Guts vs Glory (13 page)

We were given a long time to
recover, but the time still went by fast.  After the short summer break, it was
time for our hot August practices to begin.  When the bus dropped me off, I
felt more at home than I had the year before.  I even laughed at myself when I
remembered how I had felt the previous season.  As I walked onto the field that
time, I saw many familiar faces.  I knew what the summer practices had in store
for me, and I knew that the first day of practice would be my last day to
actually enjoy myself until the season concluded.

As the coach called us over for our
first team huddle of the season, I expected the same lecture he gave us the
previous year.  Again, he told us how junior college worked, the schedule for
the season, and his personal philosophy.  This year, however, he wasn’t going
to leave it up to another team to decide our playoff fate.  He, instead, wanted
us to make it to the playoffs on our own by winning more regular season games. 
For most of us, we were fired up; for the new guys, they were still anxious and
didn’t know what to expect.  They seemed to relax when the coach gave us the
rest of the day to meet and greet.

Unlike the previous year, I used
that day as suggested by the coach.  I already knew who my competition would be
and I knew what I would have to do to become a starter.  Even though I was next
in line to be a starter a season ago, I realized that I was entering a new
season and I would have to start all over in proving to the coaches just how
valuable I could be to the team.  My memorization skills improved, I had the strength
needed to stop defenders, and I had the speed to keep them from eluding me. 
But, this season, I had one big weapon that I didn’t have the previous season;
experience in playing college football.

I spent the next two weeks with the
team working on strength and endurance.  That year, I was able to begin the
season with the same intense workout routine that I developed halfway through
the previous season.  I could tell that my speed and strength had increased.  I
felt as if I was standing out a bit more than the other guys.

After two weeks, we tried out for
our positions.  I already knew my role on the team, so I didn’t hesitate in
walking over to the line coach once we broke from team huddle.  That season,
one of the new guys wasn’t yet ready to make it as a lineman.  He was too slow
to get off the line so he was given the option of trying out for the special
teams or leave the practice field.  He never came back.

Once in our groups, I learned that
we would be running the same plays as the previous year.  That gave me the
advantage of already being familiar with the plays.  It finally made sense why
last season’s starters consisted of guys who had played the previous season;
practice was much easier the second time around.  That meant that all I had to
worry about was increasing my strength, my speed, and my ability to compete
against the other linemen.

During summer practices, we spent
two months working as a team to get ready for the upcoming season.  We were all
in great shape, we had our positions, and we had most of the plays memorized. 
Our team was ready for the regular season.  We were playoff bound.

As summer practice ended, the
intensity increased in season practice.  We went back to those practices with
pads and vengeance; 55 players had to fight their way to fill 22 roster
spots.   In our offensive line group, eight players would be fighting for five
available positions.  Even though three of us were returning from the previous
season, we still had to earn our place.  It was time to use my weight room
time, my treadmill time, and my study time on the practice field to my
advantage.

As a group, we pretty much had the
same athletic ability.  None of us were overly faster, or stronger than anyone
else.  Once again, I would not be able to stand out athletically.  My biggest
weapon, for a second season, would have to be my ability to memorize plays. 
Only three of us were able to run most of the plays flawlessly.

As the two weeks of pre-season
practice went on, my uncertainty began to increase.  I could feel myself
improving, but I wasn’t sure if the coaches noticed.  I knew that I couldn’t
spend another year as a backup lineman because I would then end up with very
little playing time over two seasons and would not be able to impress the
University of Southern Michigan.  In an effort to calm my nerves, I gave Mike a
call.

He was waiting to hear the official
word on his starting status as well.  Even though he had an impressive run the
previous season, and the running back that split the work load with him had
graduated, he still wasn’t sure if he had done enough to impress the coaches. 
After hearing his news, I got even more depressed.  I was hoping for a pep talk
to cheer
me
up, but instead, he was going through the same emotions I
was going through.  I encouraged him to look at his situation from a coach’s
point of view.

Last year, he came to the team as a
freshman.  Right away, he earned his place as a backup running back.  As a
backup, he earned himself more playing time and scored the most touchdowns on
the team.  A season later, he was coming back with a year of experience, and
without in-house competition.  The coaches would be foolish to start someone
else.

As I heard the words coming out of
my mouth, I realized that they also applied to my situation.  Somehow,
counseling him calmed me down as well.  I was right, though; the coaches would
be foolish if they started someone over me.  I fought hard for a season, and
was fighting even harder for another.  I was ready to give it my all for the
next few months.

The next conversation we had a few
days later was much brighter.  As expected, they made Mike a starter.  He would
be the only starter in his position for the team and would not have to split
carries with anyone else.  I, too, was named a starter.  After a season of hard
work, my short-term goal of starting by my second year was achieved; I was the
starting right tackle for Whitaker Junior College.

The following week in practice
began like any other week.  After our daily huddles Monday and Tuesday, we went
to work in our small groups.  In our linemen group, we continued to work on our
plays and our timing off the snap.  I didn’t feel any different as a starter
and continued to target the game at the end of the week.  Practice later in the
week, however, changed.

Wednesday was a day used to work
with the whole team.  On those days, we scrimmaged against each other in
preparation for the upcoming game.  During those scrimmages, I worked with the
starting offense.  It finally hit me that I was really starting, and I suddenly
had a different feel for practice.  In the first two days of the week, I was so
used to our schedule, that I got too comfortable with practices.  However, once
I remembered the position I was in, I snapped out of it and began to block like
a starter.  On a scale of 1-10, my intensity went from 8.5 to a 10.

As practices went on that week, our
defense found it hard to get by me.  Though they weren’t the same big bruisers
from the previous season that I struggled against, they were just as tough. 
Even in practice, I made sure that no one got past me because I knew I needed
to protect not only my quarterback, but my starting role as well.  I hadn’t had
the easiest time so far in my football career, so I didn’t want to lose my
starting spot two days before the first game.

I felt more relaxed once we made it
to our final Friday practice.  It was a practice used mostly to make sure our
special team guys knew what they were doing, and a practice where we didn’t
have to wear pads.  More importantly, this practice meant that nobody else had
an opportunity to take my spot; it was mine alone.  My name would be in the
program and would be announced over the loud speaker during the game, assuming
our out-of-date field still had a working loud speaker system.

As practice let out, I was flagged
down by the head coach.  He congratulated me on earning my spot.  He wanted me
to know that he knew about my long-term goal of playing professionally, and how
hard I had been fighting to make sure I achieved it.  With that in mind, he
wanted to reassure me that I had earned the starting spot on my own and his
decision wasn’t biased towards me.  After reminding me that the opportunity to
be a starter was mine to lose, he informed me of the proud tradition of sending
players on to major colleges from junior colleges.  At the junior college
level, coaches weren’t just judged by records, playoffs, and post-season games;
they were judged by how many players they sent to the next level.  He insisted
that if I continued to fight hard all season and never slowed down, I would end
up giving him his next bragging right.

Finally, it was game day.  I had
spent a year getting ready for that moment, but it was well worth the wait.  I
finally made it onto a college playing field as a starting offensive lineman. 
The team was excited because it was the first game of the season; I was excited
because it was the first day of a rewarding season.  To add to my excitement,
as well as wear on my nerves, I had to begin that game by watching from the
sidelines since our opponent had the ball first.  After a good stop from our
guys, it was finally my time to shine.

I went into the huddle as a
starting tackle on the right side of the line.  The play was a simple run play
up the middle to test out their defense, but I knew I had the hard task of
allowing my running back to get the ball safely and gain a couple of yards
without being tackled in the backfield.  If I let the defender through, he
would get tackled, but more importantly, I would’ve failed.  I wasn’t ready to
do that, especially not on my
first
play.

As the ball was snapped, I stood up
and got ready to block.  Just like in our scrimmages, there was a defender
right in front of me.  When I put my hands up to block, his body went down.  On
my first play as a starting offensive lineman at the college level, not only
did I do my job correctly, but I did it well.  I knocked the guy down.  I
didn’t knock him down every play, but not once did the defense get past me.

As the game was moving along, I
began to appreciate the difference between playing football as an offensive
lineman and as a defensive lineman.  As a defensive lineman, my goal was to get
to the ball carrier.  Although the goal never changed, the challenge was finding
new ways to get into the backfield while avoiding the offensive lineman.  Once
in the backfield, I was rewarded with the opportunity to hit someone as hard as
I could.  However, as an offensive lineman, my goal was to stop the defender
from getting past me.  Even though the defensive line made slight adjustments for
each play, my goal, again, was always the same and achieving that goal was
accomplished by simply standing up and blocking.  If I did a good job, I kept
playing; if I did a bad job, I sat on the bench.  In short, the life of an
offensive lineman was boring and not very rewarding.  Although it would be a
psychological struggle to maintain this role all season, I found the role
physically achievable and no one got past me that entire game.

After our first win of the season,
I contemplated my decision of choosing to play on the offensive line the
previous season.  I was clearly good at what I did, but I was almost getting
bored with it.  If I would’ve chosen defense my first season, I would’ve had
more fun.  I then remembered the big difference between having fun and being a
starter.  If I stayed on defense, I wouldn’t have been able to start that first
season, and may not have gotten a chance to start my sophomore year.  As a
starting offensive lineman, however, I was given a starting role on a college
football team, which gave me a much better chance of moving on to play football
for a major college team.  With that comparison in mind, I never regretted my
decision again.

The first day of school went by
easier than the previous year.  I was already comfortable in the college
setting, and my grades gave me confidence to continue my hard work.  My classes
that semester were interesting and kept my mind active.  After class, it was
time to get back to work on the field.

It would be safe to say that my
career as a football player was full of up and downs.  It was comparable to an
intense roller coaster at one of those amusement parks.  With every up, came a
down.  With every down, came an up.  The ups and downs happened so fast that
there was no time to adjust.  Starting my first game as a college football
player was definitely an up; what followed next was definitely a down.

During one of our normal blocking
drills in practice, something was different.  When I released my block from the
defender, I had an incredible amount of pain in my right thumb.  I couldn’t
bend my thumb without getting nauseous.  I went back in for the next play, but
found even more pain.  I knew I couldn’t keep playing like that, but I didn’t
want to forfeit my starting role over a stupid injury.  I came too far to be
turned away that quickly.

After practice, I talked to the
team’s doctor about my thumb.  Because of the pain, I assumed I broke it and
wouldn’t be able to play anymore.  The doctor examined my thumb and told me he
had both good news and bad news.  The good was I didn’t break my thumb and
would eventually be able to play.  The bad news was I sprained my thumb badly
and he suggested that I take a couple of games off.  I knew that wasn’t even an
option because any time on the bench gave someone else an opportunity to take
my position.  He did tell me, though, that as long as I kept my thumb taped up,
I couldn’t do any more damage to it.  I would, however, be in a lot of pain.

He was right.  I was able to keep
my starting position during the second game.  I took his advice and taped up my
thumb.  Even though it hurt every time I blocked someone, I was still able to
block.  I went the entire game in extreme pain, not letting anyone get by me. 
We ended up winning that game and I learned a valuable lesson; from then on, I
always taped my fingers and thumbs before hitting the field.

The injury seemed to improve as the
season went on.  I continued to tape my fingers before every practice and every
game.  Though I wasn’t playing at full capacity, it was better than not playing
at all.  I had really earned that spot on the starting line, and no one was
going to take it from me.  I knew that because I made it through that second
game, I could make it through all of them.  I wasn’t ready to let a minor
injury end my career.