This is a rather mundane entry, I'm afraid.
I like to play football, though as the older I get, the harder it becomes. Football, which I have mentioned before is an art to me. Also a release. A high. One of my favorite ones, in fact. I often say to my roommate (one of my best friends), who uses a wheelchair, travels, and won't ever walk again as long as Bush keeps vetoing stem cell research; I often tell her I would switch with her, if I could. It's true. I read, write, design, draw. My legs are wasted, really. She would travel, dance, play, all the things G*d intended upright gaits for. I would trade, instantly, but I would cry over one thing and that would be playing football.
It's hard when you suddenly can put a number on something that before seemed limitless. For example, I play tackle football every Thanksgiving. It's been a singular joy each year, to the extent that some years I would work out for months in advance for only that reason.
I'm currently 42 and if I'm lucky enough to play until I'm 50 (a reasonable goal, as last year there was a guy playing who was that old), that gives me roughly 8 more times before I'm done.
Last year I joined a contact flag football league. It was in Tacoma, a 45 minute drive each way, but I couldn't find a contact league in Seattle. Non-Contact flag is the kind you usually see, where there isn't really a pass rush, no blocking, and it's usually 5 on 5 or maybe 7 on 7. It's the most common youth flag type. Non-contact flag is a general waste of time; a half-step above playing catch with some buddies or a game of Ultimate with some pot-smoking hippies.
Contact flag is pretty much tackle football without pads, only you pull a flag at the end instead of tackling. Full pass rush, full blocking, and since this is South Tacoma, it can get pretty rough. I got my first black eye ever last year, because I had my head down too low and caught an elbow. I learned not to put my head down, much like another guy I'll tell you about in a minute.
Last year the team I played on didn't start me for three games and in two of those I didn't play at all. Once I got in I lead the team in tackles (by a fair margin.) But it was annoying, knowing I only have a few seasons left.
So, when this year rolled around, I plunked down the league fee myself (a fat $750) and organized a team on my own. I found out all the usual things about organizing stuff like this: people sign up, don't show up, don't pay on time, don't show up for practice.
When all is said in done, including myself, I had 8 guys show up for the first game last Sunday. Out of 15 that signed up. We play 8 on 8. We got pretty tired. In all of that tiredness and newness of being an actual player and coach, I didn't do a couple of things I could have to make it easier on us. I had plenty of time to re-examine those things, since we were getting blown out 37 to 0 halfway through the second half and they invoked the mercy rule. Game over. We didn't even get a first down.
Over last week I figured out how manage things better. I knew I was going to call more time-outs, if only to get a breather. I knew I wasn't going to let the opposing team return our punts (the first team ran three back for touchdowns and we got really, really tired chasing them.) I knew I was going to be the center (the guy who gamely tried to do it so I could play HB/TE put the ball on the ground three times and kind of floated them back to the QB.)
Well, this week the day started with 7. You can play with 6, but I wouldn't recommend 6 on 8. As I sat there a hour before the game, wondering what I was going to do, a couple guys came up and asked if we needed players. That gave us nine. And, one guy said he could throw. He backed it up when he pulled out a velco wrist band with plays written on it, in laminated pages. That's prepared.
It's amazing what 9 guys mean over 8. Having one extra guy to rotate in a get a rest for a couple of plays. I called a couple time-outs here and there. The QB took charge of the offense, which let me relax and concentrate on defense. I didn't botch any snaps to him.
At halftime it was 0-0. We had gotten some first downs, even. Then, in the second half, I got an interception, stopping one of their drives. We scored. 7-0. They came back to score, but they tried to go for 2 for some reason. No respect, I guess. We intercepted the attempt, ran it back, and got their two points. 9-6.
We drove down the field on the next possession. I fucking blasted a guy that had his head down too low. My forearm, aimed for his chest, glanced off his collar bone and into his jaw. He cried out a little and landed like a turtle on its back. He rolled over to his hands and knees, then left the field for a couple plays. I caught a third down pass to keep the drive alive. I blocked out a linebacker (who I'd played with the year before and gotten no respect from) that allowed our QB to run in a score. I caught the extra point (no real kicking in this league, you just try and run it in from the 3 for 1, 10 for 2.) 16-6. That was a good drive.
With a little over a minute left, they drove down the field. I made a tackle on a long QB scramble that kept them out of the end-zome, thus keeping the clock running. With 27 seconds left, I let a guy get past me and he scored. They tried to go for 2 again, but we stopped them. 16-12.
Since there aren't kick-offs (you start on the 20 after a score), we took the ball and kneeled down. Game over.
We're now 1-1. somehow. Next week most of the guys that claimed they would show up, then had things happen, are supposedly going to show up. I'd love to have 10 or 12 guys.
I wore knee pads that were too tight the first game. My knees are already arthritic. They hurt a lot after the first game and started making grinding noises. It really is like having RIce Krispies in them. When I move them, krish, krish. I tried to rehab them during the week and they felt okay during the second game. I didn't wear the knee pads, of course.
This week they hurt, but in a different way. The muscles are super tight and I think when they relax in a day or two, the knees will be okay (relatively speaking.) No quick steps, no stairs if possible, ice, some pain killers. Stretching. They still make noise.
I have 6 more game left, this season. Then Thanksgiving. 8 More of those. If I get 8 more seasons of flag, that's 56 more of those games. 64 total. Win or loose, knees or no knees. 64 is the top end, the dream.
That's my mundane life.
I like to play football, though as the older I get, the harder it becomes. Football, which I have mentioned before is an art to me. Also a release. A high. One of my favorite ones, in fact. I often say to my roommate (one of my best friends), who uses a wheelchair, travels, and won't ever walk again as long as Bush keeps vetoing stem cell research; I often tell her I would switch with her, if I could. It's true. I read, write, design, draw. My legs are wasted, really. She would travel, dance, play, all the things G*d intended upright gaits for. I would trade, instantly, but I would cry over one thing and that would be playing football.
It's hard when you suddenly can put a number on something that before seemed limitless. For example, I play tackle football every Thanksgiving. It's been a singular joy each year, to the extent that some years I would work out for months in advance for only that reason.
I'm currently 42 and if I'm lucky enough to play until I'm 50 (a reasonable goal, as last year there was a guy playing who was that old), that gives me roughly 8 more times before I'm done.
Last year I joined a contact flag football league. It was in Tacoma, a 45 minute drive each way, but I couldn't find a contact league in Seattle. Non-Contact flag is the kind you usually see, where there isn't really a pass rush, no blocking, and it's usually 5 on 5 or maybe 7 on 7. It's the most common youth flag type. Non-contact flag is a general waste of time; a half-step above playing catch with some buddies or a game of Ultimate with some pot-smoking hippies.
Contact flag is pretty much tackle football without pads, only you pull a flag at the end instead of tackling. Full pass rush, full blocking, and since this is South Tacoma, it can get pretty rough. I got my first black eye ever last year, because I had my head down too low and caught an elbow. I learned not to put my head down, much like another guy I'll tell you about in a minute.
Last year the team I played on didn't start me for three games and in two of those I didn't play at all. Once I got in I lead the team in tackles (by a fair margin.) But it was annoying, knowing I only have a few seasons left.
So, when this year rolled around, I plunked down the league fee myself (a fat $750) and organized a team on my own. I found out all the usual things about organizing stuff like this: people sign up, don't show up, don't pay on time, don't show up for practice.
When all is said in done, including myself, I had 8 guys show up for the first game last Sunday. Out of 15 that signed up. We play 8 on 8. We got pretty tired. In all of that tiredness and newness of being an actual player and coach, I didn't do a couple of things I could have to make it easier on us. I had plenty of time to re-examine those things, since we were getting blown out 37 to 0 halfway through the second half and they invoked the mercy rule. Game over. We didn't even get a first down.
Over last week I figured out how manage things better. I knew I was going to call more time-outs, if only to get a breather. I knew I wasn't going to let the opposing team return our punts (the first team ran three back for touchdowns and we got really, really tired chasing them.) I knew I was going to be the center (the guy who gamely tried to do it so I could play HB/TE put the ball on the ground three times and kind of floated them back to the QB.)
Well, this week the day started with 7. You can play with 6, but I wouldn't recommend 6 on 8. As I sat there a hour before the game, wondering what I was going to do, a couple guys came up and asked if we needed players. That gave us nine. And, one guy said he could throw. He backed it up when he pulled out a velco wrist band with plays written on it, in laminated pages. That's prepared.
It's amazing what 9 guys mean over 8. Having one extra guy to rotate in a get a rest for a couple of plays. I called a couple time-outs here and there. The QB took charge of the offense, which let me relax and concentrate on defense. I didn't botch any snaps to him.
At halftime it was 0-0. We had gotten some first downs, even. Then, in the second half, I got an interception, stopping one of their drives. We scored. 7-0. They came back to score, but they tried to go for 2 for some reason. No respect, I guess. We intercepted the attempt, ran it back, and got their two points. 9-6.
We drove down the field on the next possession. I fucking blasted a guy that had his head down too low. My forearm, aimed for his chest, glanced off his collar bone and into his jaw. He cried out a little and landed like a turtle on its back. He rolled over to his hands and knees, then left the field for a couple plays. I caught a third down pass to keep the drive alive. I blocked out a linebacker (who I'd played with the year before and gotten no respect from) that allowed our QB to run in a score. I caught the extra point (no real kicking in this league, you just try and run it in from the 3 for 1, 10 for 2.) 16-6. That was a good drive.
With a little over a minute left, they drove down the field. I made a tackle on a long QB scramble that kept them out of the end-zome, thus keeping the clock running. With 27 seconds left, I let a guy get past me and he scored. They tried to go for 2 again, but we stopped them. 16-12.
Since there aren't kick-offs (you start on the 20 after a score), we took the ball and kneeled down. Game over.
We're now 1-1. somehow. Next week most of the guys that claimed they would show up, then had things happen, are supposedly going to show up. I'd love to have 10 or 12 guys.
I wore knee pads that were too tight the first game. My knees are already arthritic. They hurt a lot after the first game and started making grinding noises. It really is like having RIce Krispies in them. When I move them, krish, krish. I tried to rehab them during the week and they felt okay during the second game. I didn't wear the knee pads, of course.
This week they hurt, but in a different way. The muscles are super tight and I think when they relax in a day or two, the knees will be okay (relatively speaking.) No quick steps, no stairs if possible, ice, some pain killers. Stretching. They still make noise.
I have 6 more game left, this season. Then Thanksgiving. 8 More of those. If I get 8 more seasons of flag, that's 56 more of those games. 64 total. Win or loose, knees or no knees. 64 is the top end, the dream.
That's my mundane life.