Facebook is great for cat videos, political rants and all sorts of memes. Funny, obnoxious, inappropriate — there’s something for everyone.

Since most people are too busy to read books, many of them instead now subscribe to what I call “Facebook” philosophy. Its tenets most often consist of a funny photo and a short, catchy phrase.

It’s perfect for people with short attention spans.

Look, a squirrel!

Sorry, I lied. There are no windows where I’m writing this. I can’t possibly see a squirrel from my office and if there was one here, Kevin Connelly would likely be standing on his chair. He’s not a fan.

But back to Facebook philosophy, as it relates to high school football. One meme I see often as I wade through post after post of people eviscerating each other because they don’t vote the same way involves an idea known as, “I regret nothing.”

A life without regrets would be great. So would a Cleveland Browns Super Bowl, getting paid to fish and Salma Hayek waiting for me in a convertible in The Vindicator parking lot every night after work.

At least the last two could happen.

Everyone has regrets, If they tell you otherwise, they’re lying. Here’s one of mine:

I didn’t play high school football.

Yeah, I know. It could be worse. Lots of people deal with monumental regrets.

Not playing football 30 years ago is rather insignificant.

In fact, a former classmate I’ve known since elementary school responded this way when I told him I wished I’d suited up and played.

“No, you don’t.”

He pointed to two bum knees he’ll eventually have to get replaced and a litany of other aches and pains he believes — looking back now — he would have been better off avoiding.

Maybe he has a point. I’m not going to run The Peace Race any time soon — I’m more likely to race to the kitchen for another piece of pie — but being a Browns fan is my only chronic pain.

Besides, even if I didn’t catch any touchdown passes or make any tackles that actually counted, I was there when other people did.

I learned long ago that you don’t have to play in a game to remember it for a lifetime. The season is 10 weeks — more if you’re lucky — and it flies by just the same for players, coaches, fans and sportswriters.

But some moments stay with you.

Oct. 5, 1984: Jefferson 14, Pymatuning Valley 3. My alma mater takes control of the Grand River Conference game when offensive tackle Lance Hammond splits wide right, takes a lateral from quarterback Scott Barber and delivers a 66-yard TD strike to Mike Adams. The play was called “The Chubby Special.”

Years later, I got to see the game film, shot from the press box at Falcon Pride stadium, and you could hear Beth Helfer, then PV’s athletic director, shouting, “Oh, no!” as Hammond’s pass sailed diagonally across the field. Sorry, Beth.

1990: Warren G. Harding 28, Cincinnati Princeton 21: Harding’s championship run after the consolidation with Warren Western Reserve was big news. Korey Stringer was one of the Raiders’ stalwarts and current Austintown Fitch coach Phil Annarella was the man who united a divided city in pursuit of a title.

1990: I can’t remember the score, but Geneva beat Painesville Harvey by plenty. A young reporter wrote about how Geneva’s offensive line opened holes big enough for members of its coaching staff — made up of several “bigger” guys — to run through for first downs. Not content with that, he added that Geneva made Harvey’s defense — clad from head to toe in crimson — look like a big piece of red Swiss cheese.

A few weeks later, I, er, he, ran into then-Red Raiders coach Dick Beeler after another game and learned several combinations of swear words I hadn’t even heard in a newsroom before. Sorry, Coach. I was young and stupid. I’m not young anymore.

1991: Mentor Lake Catholic 45, Cincinnati Academy of Physical Education 20. Future Penn State and NFL wide receiver Joe Jurevicius makes a one-handed touchdown catch in the corner of the end zone at Paul Brown Tiger Stadium. It was my first visit to one of Ohio’s high school shrines.

1999: It was a forgettable early season Harding game. Then-sophomore Maurice Clarett was already the talk of the town, but was out with an ankle injury. Hot day, so I covered the game from the sideline. Halfway through the first quarter, Clarett wanders over, nods a greeting and says, “You know, Maurice isn’t playing tonight.”

“Um, yeah, I see that,” I said.

You know those situations when you wish you’d come up with a snappier comeback?

Yeah, that was one of them.

Nov. 10, 2001: Harding 42, Lakewood St. Edward 26. Clarett runs over, through and around the Eagles for 404 yards and five TDs at Kent State in the most dominating high school performance I’ve ever seen. Somehow I had the night off and secured sideline passes with my friend, Dan Ciolek. We had to park near Canton and by the time we got inside Dix Stadium, Clarett had almost 200 yards and three TDs.

As great as Clarett was that night, I’ll always remember Dan saying, “I’d almost rather try to take Clarett one-on-one in the open field than get hit by [Harding safety Prescott] Burgess.”

Here’s to another season of football and the memories to be made.

Write Vindicator Sports Editor Ed Puskas at epuskas@vindy.com and follow him on Twitter, @EdPuskas_Vindy.