High School Football :: Personal Narrative, Autobiographical Essay

Ive never decided if I actually miss playing football. I played tight end and outdoor(a) linebacker for one season, during my freshman year of high school. The previous winter Id lifted weights often enough for a junior high kid, then I long jumped in track during the spring and kept in trustworthy condition all summer. I was no all-out beast, but for me it was decent dedication. Our coach, Mr. Noble, was horrible. I respected him at the time, and so did allone else--he was six five and had some serious guns. Hed contrive a good practice with the assistant coaches for ten minutes both day while we ran the perimeter of the practice field, a workout monotonous as recopying history notes. We were in unwrap shape than any other police squad in the county, but we couldnt play football worth a lick. I started in one or two games toward the end of the season after the front string tight end, Mitch, fractured his wrist, and before the second-string fullback, Eric, learned the positi on. Like all of the only-half-decent guys, I played special teams every game. Problem was, I sucked at block off because I had no girth, and I couldnt catch very well because all we ever practiced was blocking. In games, we almost always ran the ball. Our tailback, Conor, kicked butt. Hed have been even better if our coach didnt make him run stupid plays all the time. Wed be fourth and eight at our own 35, and Coach Noble--he made us address him as sir all the time (Yes, sir, I dont understand, sir, Sir, I have to leave practice early tomorrow, sir.)--would tell Hildebrand, the QB, to call a blast, an off-guard run right up the middle. Conor wouldve been better, too, if the linemen, such as myself, had skill as well as endurance. Theres a picture in the yearbook from that season that makes me feel like a loser every time I see it--Conors charging through the line, and Im on my feet with my knees bent and no one to block, my guy diving for the tackle. Man, I really handled him. M aybe things will miscellany after I graduate, but sometimes I feel like I never deserved to keep playing, that I never would have been good enough to have any real confidence in my ability. But then I go to a Friday night varsity game and the stands be on their feet as the team charges onto the field under lights blazing against a solid black sky and I think, that could be me out there startle around, pulse racing, hollering.