First Posted: 7/22/2014
Do you smell that?
No, that’s not from breakfast earlier this morning. That’s the smell we’ve all been waiting for. The smell that has taken 168 days to get here. And now, we can bask in it.
In less than a month, local high school football teams, along with pee-wee and Pop Warner teams, will lace up their cleats and throw those shoulder pads on. I guess that will be the start of college football and the NFL as well — but who really cares about that. Just kidding!
For the longest time, midget football (can you still call it that?) was a huge part of mine and my family’s life. My father, along with both uncles, were involved heavily. My dad, at one point, was so involved that we had every piece of Northwest Jets equipment and uniforms packed away in our basement.
All of my cousins played. And back then, although it was only about 10 to 12 years ago, it wasn’t uncommon for a girl or two to be on your team.
Now, I know what you’re thinking. You can’t hit a girl. However, my philosophy on that was, “Sure you can, if they are in full pads and trying to knock your block off.”
I will never forget this one practice drill that always got the players fired up. It was called “Bull in the Ring.” It sounds just like it was. The entire team would line up in a huge circle, in full pads. The coaches would then pick two players to start in a three-point stance in the center. On the whistle, it was war. The first person to be pushed out of the ring was the loser.
This would sometimes go on for 15 to 20 minutes at the end of practice. Many times it would be over a mud pit after a heavy rainstorm.
Quite frankly, I hated this game, even though I was one of the best at it. Being good at it was easy for me. I, for the most part, was the biggest player on the team. Throughout my entire midget career, I had to weigh in before games. I’ll be honest, many times that was in the nude, just to shave a few pounds. I usually missed it by a couple and would not be able to play an entire game.
Most of the coaches just allowed me to just play kickoffs or in the fourth quarter. If there was another kid overweight, we’d have to line up against each other.
That wasn’t much fun.
There was one girl you didn’t really want to mess with when I was playing football. She was tough, like a machine. I’ve seen a lot of hard hitters in my day but I think she takes the cake. She had an endless knack to just lay the boom on anyone she hit. She was one heckuva linebacker.
It was an ongoing joke that I couldn’t knock her out of the ring. But, to my defense, no one else could, either. We would have battle after battle after endless battle in that ring. And I just couldn’t get her out. Was I embarrassed? A little. But that was before I saw her about decapitate someone going across the middle at the next game.
She is since married, I think, and has a kid. I am not married and have no kids. Maybe there is a direct correlation to dominating “Bull in the Ring” and starting a family. Probably not.
But, every time I step outside and produce a little perspiration in this hot, humid summer, that smell of a sweaty uniform comes back. The late nights finishing up practice. The awful feeling of wearing a girdle and butt pads (Yes, butt pads).
In just over a month, we’ll be fighting the packed parking lots and heading to Trippi or Sobeski stadiums. Friday nights are about to get a lot sweeter.
