Nothing succeeds like excess in Texas. The Lone Star State, known for wonders such as the “free-if-you-can-wolf-it-down-in-an-hour” 72-ounce steak at the Big Texan Restaurant in Amarillo, embraces living large. A song, T-shirts and gaudy belt buckles say everything’s bigger in Texas. That includes football.

The SundayValley News contained an eye-popping story about a football stadium arms race among Texas high schools. Give a cheer to the Eagles of Allen High School, the pride of Allen, Texas, who play in a $60 million stadium with a high-definition video screen, a three-tier press box and a whopping 18,000 seats. Memorial Field at Dartmouth College, by comparison, seats around 11,000, while most Upper Valley high schools host crowds well into the hundreds.

But uneasy lies the head that wears the crown of Texas’ priciest football palace. Down the road, rival McKinney North is about to kick off construction of a $70 million stadium. It will boast a 55-foot-wide high-definition screen and artificial grass. A Los Angeles Times reporter found that adults wouldn’t admit it’s a case of one-upmanship, but a high school student would. “Oh, it’s a rivalry,” he said. “I have pride knowing my district is going to have the most expensive stadium in the country.” That’s Bulldog pride, writ large.

Where to begin? First, that’s a colossal pile of money — even in Texas — to spend on a sport having its future called into question as more is learned about the dangers of concussions. Even denial must be bigger in Texas. And then there are values. McKinney North’s coach says football is a lens through which to view the world, a way to teach boys lessons of consistency and perseverance that will help them as fathers and husbands. But what will they learn about perspective, priorities and empathy for others who don’t compete in splendor? Isn’t this the 1 percent on turf?

And what of investing in better education rather than stadiums that would be the envy of Roman emperors? “We believe we can do both,” said a McKinney school district spokesman. That stance is enabled by Texas education funding. An equalization law forces school districts in property-rich areas to share revenues with poorer districts, but building projects are exempted. More’s the pity: In an area of the country where the biblical tithe has currency, one can only wish less-prosperous communities would also benefit from the football money race.

And then there’s the lesson that could be drawn from what happened last year at the Big Texan, when a diner shocked the world by knocking off the steak challenge — 4.5 pounds — in a mere 10 minutes, then downed two more steaks, plus sides. The champion was what in Texas might be called a “little lady” — Molly Schuyler, herself only 120 pounds.

Victory does not always go to the biggest, or the one with the deepest pockets. That lesson is among those that can be learned on playing fields, but one wonders if it will ever reach the luxury boxes of Texas, or elsewhere, for that matter.