Essay-Personal Narrative-American Football
It was a Friday night in mid August 1991. I was a noseguard and middle linebacker on defense, depending on the play. I also played right guard on the offensive line. This is the story of a night that could of well ended any hope of being an athlete, on any level, from this point on. I will be telling the story from the defensive side of the ball, due to that is where I was playing when I had five vertebrae, slightly, separated.
The clear ski appeared like god had popped peepholes in it so he and the angels could watch the game. The lights were shining down upon the field, as if all the lights on Broadway were centered on our two teams at this very moment. The field was in perfect shape. Grass so green it was an island in the sea of black that …show more content…
surrounded it. The uniforms on our backs had come out of the locker room so clean and neat, we looked like parade ground soldiers. Now they showed the effects of the war had been waging for the past half of football. Every the players made appeared to move at break neck speed, kind of how it would be to watch a recording of the superbowl on fast forward.
The crowd, which was almost deafening at the start of the evening, was now as silent as a church mouse, even though all were screaming at the top of their lungs. The sound of pads and helmets smashing into one another could have given someone the impression of a thunderstorm. Ending, in one big bang, as a defender popped the ball carrier when the play was over. Only the sound of a canyon echo would give justice to sound of the plays the safeties ran in from the sidelines. Carbon High Schools quarterback barked the cadence, like a chihuahua chasing the mailman.
The faint scent of cedar would occasionally waif through our nostrils, comparable to the fragrance of a beautiful woman passing by. It would only be short lived, giving way to the stench of sweat, blood and grass. This is nauseating to some and intoxicating to others but tells of the effort on both sides. The strongest smell of all was fear. It was coming from Carbons running back. This scent is very strong and sweet, kind of like cotton candy at the state fair.
I could feel him shaking like a small earthquake and yet I was ten yards away. The anticipation built up in me, typical of boiling water ready to flow over the side of the pot. When the ball was snapped, I would let my training and preparation take over my body, equivalent to a remote control toy. The eyes telling the body what to do. My cleats gripped the turf, akin to a set of racing tires holding the pavement, allowing me to accelerate.
The taste of Gatorade would seem to linger, similar to the way bubblegum stays clinging to a shoe. My mouthpiece would start its regular demise, eventually taking on the flavor of chewing a rubber band. From this, my gums would bleed, and it would make me even hungrier for a big hit, similar to a wolf scavenging for a carcass.
The first half of the game, we were incredibly dominant. I had three sacks, one interception for a touchdown, and eight tackles. I was terrorizing the offensive line and tormenting the backfield. I don't even remember them trying to run a receiver across the middle of the field.
The second half had just begun. I could feel this win was within reach. When I looked at the score board, we were up 28 to 12. I couldn't help but feel the pride associated with beating these punks my senior year. Carbon would continually run in varsity players, this was cheating, since we were supposed to be playing their JV squad. We knew they were varsity players, everyone knew everyone in this little county. To us this was nothing new; they had done this all four years that I had been playing in this rivalry.
Both of our teams were known for dirty play.
Cheap shots were not the exception but the rule. If you hit someone late then stepped on their hand and you were not flagged with a penalty, then that was just part of the game. Usually, it was just a wake up call to let the other player know just whom he was playing and to watch out because we were here to win.
I should have been prepared for what was about to happen. We would have done the same, if we were in their position. With just a little over nine minutes' left to play in the third quarter. Carbon had the ball on their own 36-yard line, 3rd down and 8 yards to go for the first down. I was lined up in the middle linebacker spot. The defensive scheme was a 3-4 defense; we were expecting a pass play, so we could play a short zone.
Carbons offense was lined up in the power I, strong right formation. Allow me to briefly explain. Power I is a full-back and tail-back lined up behind each other and they are directly to the rear of the quarterback. Strong right is means that the tight end is lined up on the right side of the offensive line. I yelled, "Strong right, strong right." To let the safeties and cornerbacks know, in case the offense tried to fool us with a run
play.
The center snapped the ball with the first sound the quarterback made. The offensive backfield was moving right, appearing to be a sweep to the right side. I was screaming at the top of my lungs "sweep right, sweep right!" That is when I noticed that the right guard had pulled to the left. Now this wasn't correct. If they're running right why would he go left? I hesitated in anticipation of a reverse, this is a play designed to trick the defense by going one way then the other.
Everything started to move in slow motion. I had shed one block when I noticed the tight end diving for my legs. I tried to jump so as to avoid the block but I was hit in the back driving me into the full back, which came to double team, me. I was bent over backwards.
The pain was excruciating; it shot straight up my back into head. I laid there for what seemed to be an eternity. It was almost as if I had left my body and was looking at my self from up above. Coach Cox came out onto the field to see if I was ok. He helped me up and over to the sidelines. Oh Jesus it hurt to walk. How was I going finish this game? I need to get back in there; little Joe Robinett will get killed in there. I was not even about to let that happen. I had worked to hard to protect him on the offensive side of the ball. Just as I laid down on the sideline, I looked up and seen my grandparents, best friend, and girlfriend all sitting together. I hoped they were not too worried, so I gave them a big smile and a thumbs up to reassure them I was alright.
I really didn't even know if I was going to make it through this. Coach cox asked me what I wanted to do, take the shot, some sort of pain killer that made you a little loopy but enabled you play, or get in the ambulance. Hell I didn't know. What if my backs broke? Will I aggravate it and paralyze myself? What then I'm only 16 years old? How will I drive? What about sex? Will I be able to do it again?
I looked up at my Grandpa, maybe hoping that he would give me the answer. He just had that stone look on his face. I knew I had to get back in there or let everyone down. Not just my grandparents but the entire town. All of these people were counting on me to help win this game. If I did not get back in there, it was a strong possibility Carbon could come back and win.
I told Coach to give me the shot. Five minutes went by and carbon scored. I rushed on to the field to take my place on the kick off return team. I had only one goal on my mind. It was to lay out #26, he was Carbons' full back and head hunter on the kick off team. Ryan Ferguson, the fastest guy, caught the ball and took off. I ran down the field about 15 yards, stopped and flipped back towards Ryan. Theres that #26, I now had him in my sights. One-step, two steps and bam! Yes! I got him back, even if I only rang his bell, yet he'll remember that the next time he try's to block me.
The rest of the game went off without a hitch. We won 35 to 19. I was able to play the next game, limited, but I still played. The week of physical therapy wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be. This is one memory that will stay with me for the rest of my days. Every morning when I wake up and my back aches, I remember #26.
The clear ski appeared like god had popped peepholes in it so he and the angels could watch the game. The lights were shining down upon the field, as if all the lights on Broadway were centered on our two teams at this very moment. The field was in perfect shape. Grass so green it was an island in the sea of black that …show more content…
surrounded it. The uniforms on our backs had come out of the locker room so clean and neat, we looked like parade ground soldiers. Now they showed the effects of the war had been waging for the past half of football. Every the players made appeared to move at break neck speed, kind of how it would be to watch a recording of the superbowl on fast forward.
The crowd, which was almost deafening at the start of the evening, was now as silent as a church mouse, even though all were screaming at the top of their lungs. The sound of pads and helmets smashing into one another could have given someone the impression of a thunderstorm. Ending, in one big bang, as a defender popped the ball carrier when the play was over. Only the sound of a canyon echo would give justice to sound of the plays the safeties ran in from the sidelines. Carbon High Schools quarterback barked the cadence, like a chihuahua chasing the mailman.
The faint scent of cedar would occasionally waif through our nostrils, comparable to the fragrance of a beautiful woman passing by. It would only be short lived, giving way to the stench of sweat, blood and grass. This is nauseating to some and intoxicating to others but tells of the effort on both sides. The strongest smell of all was fear. It was coming from Carbons running back. This scent is very strong and sweet, kind of like cotton candy at the state fair.
I could feel him shaking like a small earthquake and yet I was ten yards away. The anticipation built up in me, typical of boiling water ready to flow over the side of the pot. When the ball was snapped, I would let my training and preparation take over my body, equivalent to a remote control toy. The eyes telling the body what to do. My cleats gripped the turf, akin to a set of racing tires holding the pavement, allowing me to accelerate.
The taste of Gatorade would seem to linger, similar to the way bubblegum stays clinging to a shoe. My mouthpiece would start its regular demise, eventually taking on the flavor of chewing a rubber band. From this, my gums would bleed, and it would make me even hungrier for a big hit, similar to a wolf scavenging for a carcass.
The first half of the game, we were incredibly dominant. I had three sacks, one interception for a touchdown, and eight tackles. I was terrorizing the offensive line and tormenting the backfield. I don't even remember them trying to run a receiver across the middle of the field.
The second half had just begun. I could feel this win was within reach. When I looked at the score board, we were up 28 to 12. I couldn't help but feel the pride associated with beating these punks my senior year. Carbon would continually run in varsity players, this was cheating, since we were supposed to be playing their JV squad. We knew they were varsity players, everyone knew everyone in this little county. To us this was nothing new; they had done this all four years that I had been playing in this rivalry.
Both of our teams were known for dirty play.
Cheap shots were not the exception but the rule. If you hit someone late then stepped on their hand and you were not flagged with a penalty, then that was just part of the game. Usually, it was just a wake up call to let the other player know just whom he was playing and to watch out because we were here to win.
I should have been prepared for what was about to happen. We would have done the same, if we were in their position. With just a little over nine minutes' left to play in the third quarter. Carbon had the ball on their own 36-yard line, 3rd down and 8 yards to go for the first down. I was lined up in the middle linebacker spot. The defensive scheme was a 3-4 defense; we were expecting a pass play, so we could play a short zone.
Carbons offense was lined up in the power I, strong right formation. Allow me to briefly explain. Power I is a full-back and tail-back lined up behind each other and they are directly to the rear of the quarterback. Strong right is means that the tight end is lined up on the right side of the offensive line. I yelled, "Strong right, strong right." To let the safeties and cornerbacks know, in case the offense tried to fool us with a run
play.
The center snapped the ball with the first sound the quarterback made. The offensive backfield was moving right, appearing to be a sweep to the right side. I was screaming at the top of my lungs "sweep right, sweep right!" That is when I noticed that the right guard had pulled to the left. Now this wasn't correct. If they're running right why would he go left? I hesitated in anticipation of a reverse, this is a play designed to trick the defense by going one way then the other.
Everything started to move in slow motion. I had shed one block when I noticed the tight end diving for my legs. I tried to jump so as to avoid the block but I was hit in the back driving me into the full back, which came to double team, me. I was bent over backwards.
The pain was excruciating; it shot straight up my back into head. I laid there for what seemed to be an eternity. It was almost as if I had left my body and was looking at my self from up above. Coach Cox came out onto the field to see if I was ok. He helped me up and over to the sidelines. Oh Jesus it hurt to walk. How was I going finish this game? I need to get back in there; little Joe Robinett will get killed in there. I was not even about to let that happen. I had worked to hard to protect him on the offensive side of the ball. Just as I laid down on the sideline, I looked up and seen my grandparents, best friend, and girlfriend all sitting together. I hoped they were not too worried, so I gave them a big smile and a thumbs up to reassure them I was alright.
I really didn't even know if I was going to make it through this. Coach cox asked me what I wanted to do, take the shot, some sort of pain killer that made you a little loopy but enabled you play, or get in the ambulance. Hell I didn't know. What if my backs broke? Will I aggravate it and paralyze myself? What then I'm only 16 years old? How will I drive? What about sex? Will I be able to do it again?
I looked up at my Grandpa, maybe hoping that he would give me the answer. He just had that stone look on his face. I knew I had to get back in there or let everyone down. Not just my grandparents but the entire town. All of these people were counting on me to help win this game. If I did not get back in there, it was a strong possibility Carbon could come back and win.
I told Coach to give me the shot. Five minutes went by and carbon scored. I rushed on to the field to take my place on the kick off return team. I had only one goal on my mind. It was to lay out #26, he was Carbons' full back and head hunter on the kick off team. Ryan Ferguson, the fastest guy, caught the ball and took off. I ran down the field about 15 yards, stopped and flipped back towards Ryan. Theres that #26, I now had him in my sights. One-step, two steps and bam! Yes! I got him back, even if I only rang his bell, yet he'll remember that the next time he try's to block me.
The rest of the game went off without a hitch. We won 35 to 19. I was able to play the next game, limited, but I still played. The week of physical therapy wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be. This is one memory that will stay with me for the rest of my days. Every morning when I wake up and my back aches, I remember #26.