GRIDIRON MARTYRS - Segment 2 (Scroll down for earlier segments)

     It was the ninth grade.  “Maberry, why don’t you turn out for football?” asked Charlie. 

     “I’m definitely playing this year,” I heard someone say.  Then I realized the voice had come from me.   By the time I had walked home from school, I was black and blue from hitting myself for such a poor decision.  I had my entire life in front of me.  Now I could see it in the rear view mirror.  There was an aid car with sirens and flashing lights!  It didn’t look good.  I considered changing my mind, but commitments were not taken lightly in the ninth grade.  Failing to follow through on my ill-advised decision would label me a black sheep; a fate far worse than treason.  Football would be life on the edge.  I just had to remind myself not to look over the edge. 

     The day for issuing uniforms came so quickly, I didn’t have time to plan an escape.  I watched expectantly as the coach handed everyone their gold pants, pads, and shiny gold helmet.  When it was my turn, he handed me my gold pants, pads, and then said, “Maberry, we don’t have any more gold helmets.  You’ll have to wear this white helmet.”  I felt like a white rat in a lab experiment.  I looked over the edge, to see if I could survive the jump.  The idea of being the black sheep began to look appealing.  Although I should have been penalized fifteen yards with a loss of down for bad judgment, I decided to play the white rat.

     After three weeks of turf n’ mouth, that fateful day arrived; game day.  My number was 32.  I played end, which meant I was on the end of the line.  This is great, I thought.  The opposing team will never notice me.  I was sadly mistaken.  During warm-ups, they couldn’t take their eyes off me.  “Look,” they yelled, “a white helmet!”

 

 

To be continued...check back soon