Guess Who? Block and Tackle My football career began in 1968. I was the fifth child in the brood and everyone that could don street cloths was allowed to play. My older brothers were commonly opposing team captains. Teams were picked by the captains who alternately selected teammates of all the neighborhood kids until all selections were made. My older sisters, and I usually fit into the teams and played whatever football was the flavor of the day. Most days we played tackle football but on some days when females of the girlie persuasion decided to play, we reverted to touch. Our football field consisted of the front yard of our parent’s home. Lush green grass covered the yard that was about thirty feet wide and sixty feet long. The concrete sidewalk leading to the front door served as the fifty yard line and the street-side sidewalk and front door hedge served as side boundaries. We learned to be tough. We knew that if we played like girls, the boys would make fun of us and possibly not allow us to play. Whimpering and crying were not allowed. Either man up or get to the kitchen and hang on Moms apron......no one wanted to hang on Moms’ apron. The games were rough enough that my brother broke his arm in one hard fought game. I was short and small but I was quick and learned to tackle low and hard. I learned to avoid taking life threatening hits and enjoyed our summer games. When I got into high school our physical education teacher decided it would be a good experience for all the girls to play flag football. I wasn’t certain how I would stack up against some of the brutes and it had been some time since my playing days but relished the challenge. When the game began I soon found that one tough girl was attempting to rough me up. She was the type of girl that had a perpetual makeup mask with perfect eyeliner. She appeared to have spent the morning creating a hair sculpture and then placing it on her head. A can of hair spray completed the look and soon she appeared to have hair that could endure a flag football game. Up the field we would go......a push here a grab there. I was assured that she was a little more engaged in attempting to bully me than just play the game. I thought,“I am not the biggest girl but I know how to hit.” I was not certain what the hit would do as it had been awhile since I last played football. I ducked down slightly, then came up as fiercely as I was able to do. I felt a thump. The girl felt two thumps, me hitting her and her hitting the ground. I guess my low center of gravity coupled with proper blocking technique achieved the required result. She definitely needed to touch up that makeup and hair. For some reason she no longer felt the need to rough me up after that play. She was a bit smarter than I thought.
Posted on: Sun, 06 Oct 2013 01:57:59 +0000
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