Sunday, April 13, 2008

Mighty #63



Ah, the seventh grade football team of 1975 (that's me, four from the right on the second row). The only reason I was on the team was because a couple of my good friends had decided to join that year. I wasn't so sure I had what it took to play, but I figured if Richard Shreves could do it, anyone could (he left the team after that first season, just like I did). Plus, I got tired of being called a "dud".

You see, the coaches were a cruel lot. Those of us in their P.E. class who didn't play football were tagged with the less-than-respectable moniker of "dud". Can you imagine that? If a P.E. teacher did something like that today he would be fired and likely sued by the student's parents. But this was the mid 70's and a LOT of stuff went on back then that would never fly in this day and age.

I played defensive tackle, and I did not play it very well. Football was not a sport my dad encouraged me to participate in. I never watched it on TV (never really watched ANY sports, for that matter). So, as a result, I had no idea what I was doing. I barely knew the rules of the game. Hit the guy in front of me and get hit back, that was my understanding of the position in it's totality. Who knows, maybe that IS all there is to it...I still don't know.

The strongest memory I have of the whole experience was also the worst.

You see, the coach practically never put me in the line-up at the games. He had better defensive tackles. That was just fine with me. I was happy to hang out with my buddies (who never seemed to get put in, either). Then, during the last game of the season, he decided to let me play. Apparently he called for me to get out on the field. I say "apparently" because I sure never heard him. Which means that I DID NOT join my teammates on the field, leaving a huge gap for the offensive tackle on the other team to exploit to his advantage. Which he did, and our opponents won the game.



I got bitched out by the coach, of course. But that wasn't NEARLY as bad as the bus ride home, with everyone on the team pissed at me.

I was glad it was the last game of the season. The last game of my aborted career in football, as well.

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