Justin
Davis
9/8/2012
English
1A
Professor
Rogers
Winning
the Big One
Not much means more than beating your cross town rival in
high school football. It all started on a cold and rainy Thursday in November,
I was coaching freshmen football for the high school I had graduated from less
than a year ago. About a year earlier I had been where these kids were about to
go, I had worn that orange proudly an gone up against the team I hated most for
bragging rights the rest of the year. Now it was my turn to leads these kids to
a victory my turn to let them feel the vibrations of the crowd, help them to
get the agony of defeat out of their minds and replace it with the thrill of
victory. The weather that day was a football players dream rain dripped from
the sky and gently kissed your skin, the dark menacing clouds blocked out any
chance of sunlight on the cold November day. No matter how cold it was or how
wet you had gotten standing on that field there was electricity in the air like
lightning had come down and struck each and every one of us. This is the
feeling players live for, this is the reason they work out, this is the reason
some think they’re crazy… winning.
This whole coaching thing started back in about March of
my senior year. The head freshmen coach, who was my coach for Junior Varsity
had asked me if I wanted to coach with him. Coaching had once been a dream of
mine, I mean to come back and help kids discover the wonders and joys of
playing football sounded amazing. There were a few college offers on my table
though not anywhere big, but really what can I expect for only being 6’0’’ and
255 pounds it’s not like USC is going to come beating down the door. Finally
around late April I had made my decision that I wanted to become a coach. My
body just couldn’t handle the stresses of playing football anymore but I knew I
couldn’t just walk away from this sport that I love. The season really kicked
off in June which is when we could actually start practice. That summer was a
great learning experience for me. It tested my patience, my drive, and my love
for the game. It can be hard for someone who expects perfection on the football
field to ever take it easy on someone for not understanding something. When the
actual season rolled around in August and we could actually start playing other
games the nerves really started rolling in. Are they prepared enough? Did I do
everything I could to teach them what they needed to know? At first it didn’t
feel like I was doing a very good job. We lost nine straight games to start of
the season. It made me question myself as not only a coach but as a man. It
almost sent me into a depression after our fourth loss because I just couldn’t
understand it. I felt like the football “gods” were out to get me because how
dare an 18 year old come in and think he can coach this game. After sitting
down with a few of my old coaches and them reassuring me that it was nothing
that I had done it was just lack of athleticism that was holding us back I felt
very relieved.
That whole week starting on the Saturday before the game
I was constantly breaking down film on Pioneer our hated cross town rivals.
Learning everything I possibly could about their team. Their coaches’
tendencies, their players strengths, and most importantly their weaknesses.
Monday finally rolled around and there was a chill in the air. Practice started
and I don’t think I stopped yelling for the whole two hours the excitement
poured out of me like water pours over Niagara Falls. The team and coaches fed
off my energy and I saw the passion in their eyes, the desire to go out and
ruin another person’s day, the willingness to lay their bodies on the line for
one chance at victory for one little taste of how it feels to beat Pioneer.
Tuesday was here only two days until game day now. Screaming, popping of
shoulder pads, and cracking of helmets was heard all around our practice field
that day, I think even a couple of the varsity players joined in on the
screaming. Wednesday came faster than expected but it didn’t seem to bother
anyone all that much. One more day of preparation and scheming to get ready for
the most important games of the year. This day was made to be a fun day though.
We were confident in the players and their chances to win but you never can be
100% about a win. We played a few games, messed around a little bit and let
them just be kids for their last practice of freshmen football. Then we headed
over to one of the kids houses to have our team dinner and really hangout one
last time as a group.
To start my Thursday off I woke up around 6, not like I
really got that much sleep anyways. Jumped in the shower and decided I was
going to head into the donut shop a couple blocks away from my house. Like
always I ran into the old timers that are about as old as my grandpa and they
were asking me about the game and how I was feeling about our chances going
into tonight. I let them know we were going to win the game no questions asked.
After that I decided I wanted to go to the cemetery for the first time since my
grandpa died in 2007. I couldn’t tell you why I wanted to or what made me think
about it but I just felt it needed to be done. The sky was about as grey as I
had ever seen it and the clouds looked heavy as if they were struggling to stay
up there. As I walked through the cemetery the older gravestones caught my eye
how short some people’s lives were and it made me think how I needed to live
every moment to the fullest. Once I reached my grandpa’s grave this flood of
sadness over powered me and broke through whatever emotional levees I had built
up. Tears poured from my eyes like someone turned on a faucet in my head. It
might sound crazy but I sat there and spoke with him for almost half an hour
about what I had been up to since he had passed. On my way out of the cemetery
I couldn’t help but feel extremely happy
and relieved of all stress I had felt. After that I don’t remember much
of what happened until I got on the bus to make that trip across town to
Pioneer.
The speakers were blaring and the rain was falling the
whole time we were on the field for warm ups. The stadium was completely empty
when our kickers and quarterbacks went out early to do their warm ups, but ACDC
was rocking over the speakers. The balls our quarterbacks were throwing were
drenched in water. Not because of the rain but because I squirted them with
about of ice water I had. I wanted to make sure they were ready for any
situation that could be thrown at them. We went back into the locker room with
about twenty minutes before game time so the head coach could give his speech.
The kids started marching down to the end zone so they could run out in front
of the biggest crowd they had ever played for. They came out the crowd erupted
with the force of a Fourth of July fireworks show. After our full team warm ups
on the field I headed up to the announcers booth with my headset and game plan
in hand. Being up with a bird’s eye view is probably I tend to get to angry on
the sidelines and yell at the referees. My dad does most of the filming for me
and my team so he was standing right next to me all game. Once the game started
there was no controlling my emotions. Most of the parents below me in the
stands probably thought a lunatic had escaped and gotten on top of the press
box. I was yelling at the players as if they could hear me. There was a strange
feeling up in the booth though I was guessing right every time, when we were on
defense I knew exactly which play they were going to run, on offense every play
I said we should run worked. I like to think my grandpa was up there with me
guiding me through the game. At the end of the game when the clock hit 00:00 we
had won the game 32-12. This team had finally done it they won their first game
as Wolves. I rushed out of the press box, through the stands, across the field
to grab a hold of one of my linemen and hug him telling him he did it he
finally won a game. Later on we had the team huddled together in the end zone
and some of the coaches were giving their post game speeches I noticed some one
running at me, it was my JV o line coach, who I hadn’t seen in a couple of years,
and I ran to him and hugged him for what felt like forever. That might have
been the greatest day of my life so far.
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