Game Day

On the eve of the Eagles clinching their first ever conference title and possibly the 1^st undefeated football season in our co-op’s history, I can’t help but think back to very fond game day memories that span nearly 3 decades for me.  I flash back to being a 10 year old kid…a manager for the Tim Wilson led Blue Devils of Plum City.  Getting out of class early to pack game equipment and ready the field for Friday.  Riding the team bus, filling water bottles and wearing yellow jerseys about 4 sizes too big; being allowed to stay up until 10:30 to watch the scores and race into town on Saturdays for the local papers’ game summaries. 

Like many I suppose, my main hero was my Dad. After all, he taught me to hunt, fish, play catch…(you know the important stuff when you are 10!)  But my other heroes I watched in practice every day, in the fall and take the field on Friday nights.  Uncle Kurt, Johnny B, Jeff Sauressig, Clint Beyer…I could go on. I truly wanted to be like one of those guys!

I can skip ahead five years, to being a knock kneed 140 pound freshmen… somehow catching a Tony Gilles slant pass against Prescott for the go ahead touchdown in the south end zone.  Add 12 more years, and I can still clearly see Blaine Kadlec getting the ball to Travis Unser, as he scampered into that same south end zone, securing my 1^st ever win as a Head varsity coach.

Another 10 years would pass.  The south end zone didn’t change. I looked at it with pride on my last night as the head coach of the Blue Devils who turned in a dominating performance against

Clayton to secure our teams 7^th straight conference title.

I consider myself lucky to be part of the Pepin Alma football program for the past 3 seasons. The players, coaches, parents and communities have worked extremely hard together.  I know this team is capable of accomplishing our goal.  But, the great thing about football, and life, is there are no guarantees. 

You just have to keep battling, one way or another.  So I’ve included some thoughts that seem to run together and describe my last 30 years of game days.  Perhaps you will feel some of the same things…feel free to add you own thoughts as well. Either way, support your local ‘heroes’ with pride.

Game day is…Waking up early to have that good luck breakfast;

Leaving the collared shirt hanging up and opting for a hoodie with school colors;

Turning up your favorite jam a little louder on the way to school;

Finding ‘Boys of Fall’ on your Ipod or YouTube.

Game day is…Breathing in crisp October air and letting out a loud cheer. Watching the clock tick past painfully slow, as your heart beats fast.   There are good luck signs in business windows and hall decorations around every corner.   It’s team meals and team prayers. Players of the week and players who won’t see the field.  There are faded letter jackets but bright shining smiles.  Painted lines and mascot painted faces.  Fresh cut grass and fresh popped corn.  Hot chocolate and chilly toes.  Standing room only at the south end zone and the bathroom line.

Game days are pep rallies and pep bands.  Pregame speeches and the buzzing lights that break the silence of a focusing team.  Slipping on the pads and spreading on eye black.  Going to the bathroom about 4 dozen times.  It’s the click clack of cleats on the pavement, and the pounding of your heart as you climb through the ropes. It’s electricity in the air and butterflies in your stomach. Players are on edge through warm-ups and the coach is nervous hoping he has prepared them well.  Mothers are about 20 times more nervous than anyone. 

To me, game days are playing for hundreds of people not for 100,000.  Working with your teammates and accomplishing a goal.  Getting knocked down but always getting up… since August.  It’s flipping the coin, then player intros and school songs. .The Anthem signals it’s close to go time.

It’s one more swig of Gatorade before you strap it up.  It’s kicking from the right hash and re-taping your left ankle. It’s the point of no return, and losing yourself in the moment for 48 minutes. 

There are onside kicks and offside flags. Great game plans and unplanned surprises.  Keeping the sideline pumped up and not letting your buddy down. It’s hometown announcers and out of town visitors.  You can see the white stripe turn on the ball as it spins through the black night.  Friday night lights illuminate a temporary heaven on earth.  There are good ideas and bad calls.  4^th graders cheering on older brothers while playing their own game off to the side.  It’s leaving it all  on the field because the name on the front of the jersey means a whole lot more than the name on the back.

   The game clock shows all zeros.  Some are champions. Most are not.  If you are lucky, you can tee it up again in a week.  The team heads for mid field.  Steam drifts in the air as the helmets come off and the shirts come un-tucked. There are handshakes from opponents, hugs from mom and dad, and high-fives from the homecoming queen. Your night is over and you can look in the mirror and be proud, because you are a football player.

                   

Game days are…memories in the making and dreams coming true.  Boys turning into men, and then right back into boys depending on how the ball bounces. 

That’s ok though. After 3 decades, they are still heroes to me.

-TGI