Since I was 8 years old I have been playing football. During that span I was the fat kid, the lazy kid, the enforcer, and the skinny bastard. Unfortunately, during my high school playing days I was the skinny bastard.
In high school I tried to find the perfect position for a tall, lanky kid with decent speed, turns out none of qualities are anything to be desired on the football field. My coaches eventually found a position for me, special teams player. As a junior, I was the wedge breaker on the varsity kick-off team, a job usually designated to a human cannonball. During the season I was listed at 180 lbs., but in reality I probably weighted 160 lbs. soaking wet and in full pads. I looked like Lucas from the 80’s teen movie.
Although I lacked the size for a wedge breaker, I made up for it in crazy (Like I always say, never underestimate the crazies). Once the ball was kicked it was my job to sprint full speed into a wall of four behemoths with blatant disregard for my own personal well-being, I got a handful of concussions to prove it. The only guy on the team who was crazy enough to be my battery mate, was my bud (no pun intended) Ruthie. The same bastard who took my football career from me my freshmen year, but I will not relive those painful memories.
As the season progressed, I became more and more excited about running full speed into 250 lbs of pissed off linebacker. My junior year I was 1 touchdown away from eclipsing by personal best of 0, a record I had achieved throughout high school.
After a couple of games I began to see the importance of a solid special teams player. For example, in 1996, my idol Larry Izzo was an undrafted rookie for the Dolphins and that spring Hall of Fame coach Jimmy Johnson said that the only two players who were guaranteed to make the team were Dan Marino and Larry Izzo. Today, Larry Izzo is a 3-time Super Bowl winner, a 3-time Pro Bowler, and is in his 7th year of special teams captain for our New England Patriots.
Once I finally came to terms with the fact that I wasn’t going to get the same glory that the quarterback was getting, I was given my chance to show everyone what I could do. That Friday we had a game against Billerica, who would be a more challenging opponet for Ruthie and myself. The wedge that we would be attempting to break would be anchored by the Boston College fullback, James McCluskey. Before the opening kickoff I looked deep inside myself and channeled my Larry Izzo, I knew that tonight was my night to shine.
One or two concussions later, I don’t really remember much of the game or the bus ride home for that matter, McCluskey was still standing. All I had to show for it was a head injury and story about how a Division 1 football player and possibly a future NFL player beat the piss out of me for 48 minutes.
