As I took the field for the first time in this sport I wasn't familiar with I asked myself, what am I doing? Maybe I should go try and play the trumpet. I was a 5'5, 215 pound Hispanic about to compete against these towering Samoan players. I had heart but I don't know if that was going to be enough. My practice pant felt loose, so I had to consistently pull them up. They prevented me from playing at my highest level, is what I kept telling myself was the reason I wasn't that good. As the coach called in the offensive lineman I got lost in this sea of gigantic players running over to the dummy drills. My helmet was not the right fit and was a little to tight which didn't allow for proper circulation of oxygen in my head, is the reason I told myself I couldn't remember the plays. Eventually we got to the gantlet where two players face each other with 6 feet of distance apart and go at each other like two pissed of rams and try to tackle each other. After being punked so many times I told myself hang in there, practice is almost over, it can't get any worse. Then on my final turn as I bent down I heard a rip which wasn't a defensive move most people would think, it was my pants. Needless to say it was a pretty big one.
Comments
Post a Comment