When you ply your trade in sports journalism every day, you never know what you’re going to witness.

A record-breaking performance by a running back, a milestone win for a coach, a team winning a championship, maybe a feel-good story about an athlete overcoming injury.

They’re all fun. They’re all memorable. Being able to see and write about such things on a regular basis is part of the privilege of being in this business.

It’s on extremely rare occasions that you get to witness something “special.”

The Friday after 9/11, Moniteau played Keystone up in Knox in the only high school football game played in the region that night, in the aftermath of the terrorist attack on our nation.

Members of both teams, firefighters, police officers and other emergency personnel gathered on the field in a touching candlelight tribute to our true heroes of life.

That scene will never leave my memory. I figured it was the most heartfelt tribute I would ever witness on a football field.

I was wrong.

The scene that took place in Knoch Stadium following the Knights’ 28-7 playoff win over West Allegheny last week brought tears to my eyes.

Try as I might to blink them away and maintain that watchful reporter’s eye on the postgame tribute to the late Alex Summers ... I could feel the moisture.

I feel no shame in admitting that. I consider myself a journalist, but I consider myself a human being first.

And being on hand to witness how this school district paid tribute to the tragic death of a senior cheerleader and one of its most beloved students was one of the privileges of being human.

The band played Amazing Grace. Balloons were released into the night by players and cheerleaders. The West Allegheny football team stood and applauded Knoch’s squad as the Knights emerged from their postgame huddle-up with the coaches on the field.

Alex’s boyfriend, Andrew Rumburg-Goodlin, clutched the game ball as he embraced head coach Mike King after addressing his teammates.

West Allegheny coach Bob Palko admitted to his team that it hurt to lose a playoff game and end a season.

He also pointed to the stands and to Knoch’s team while telling his players to “watch and learn about something much more important.”

When the band stopped playing and the balloons were released, Knoch players and cheerleaders pointed upward.

The stands were still full and the game had ended more than 30 minutes earlier.

Nobody left. Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. For more than five minutes, nobody did anything.

Silence.

They grieved. They mourned. They hurt.

Alex Summers is gone.

No matter the fate of Knoch’s football season, Alex’s spirit — and the spirit of this community — isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.