Surviving

In 2005, I played my second year of tackle football. I played on a team for Kanapaha Middle School at the Boys and Girls Club. Patrick was back with me, but this time we were the younger ones, and definitely the smaller ones. Patrick and I were about the same at a menacing five feet, one hundred something pounds. We were playing with some guys at six feet, one hundred-sixty pounds. It was just a little unfair. Our coach was Steve Russell, he was the size of a toddler and had the voice of a megaphone. My first day of practice was scary to say the least. Our best players were a Halfback named Mackenzie and a Quarterback named Danny. That year I played Tight End again on offense, but on defense I moved to Linebacker. Patrick also played Linebacker, but played Fullback on offense. Because I spent the majority of the game time on the sideline, most of my memories come from practice. Our practice field wasn’t Hell, but we could see it from there. Our coach had the temper of a two year old, and didn’t stop yelling the whole practice. He would scream and yell and shout to no end. Our ears bled from his voice. Our field was a sand pit surrounded by about 15 feet of grass. When it rained, our coach would make us do Hell-Divers until it stopped raining. We would sprint, and when he blew the whistle we would dive in the mud, and continue sprinting. Although he was so hard on us, it must have worked. Our team went to the league championship that year. We went undefeated until the championship game. We lost to Lincoln Middle School, mainly on account of their size. Until College, football is a game of puberty. The team with the most grown-up guys usually wins. And they did. We ended up losing 30-0, I usually played about 4 or 5 snaps a game, but in the 4th quarter they let all us back-ups go in. I caught the ball off the bounce and ran to the sideline for a one yard gain. It was the only time I touched the ball the entire season, but it sure felt good. At many times during that season I wanted to quit…but I didn’t. I had hope that one day it would get better, and it has. Patrick and I endured the pain, we survived Coach Russell, and it has benefited us greatly. There was no better preparation possible for what was to come…