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| Ronald, I wanted to be just like him |
It was a Thursday morning and the sun was barely shining indirectly into the west window. I heard Mom call from the open door at the bottom of the stairs. "Time to get up Carmen". I was kind of in a grumpy mood so in my mind I replied, "I know so don't yell so loud." I reached over to my clock radio, which sat kind of tipsy on a chair, and turned it on to see if I could get the score of the Twins baseball games from Wednesday. I then realized that they had not played on Wednesday but really it did not make any difference as they were out of the pennant race. My beloved Milwaukee Braves were also languishing in third or fourth place so what was left of the baseball season that was interesting? Well the big thing was Mickey Mantle and Roger Maris were battling it out for the home run title but that was pretty much it. It looked like a Yankee/Reds series coming up and of course the Yankees would be favored maybe in five or six games.
Of course baseball was my first love but as I turned the radio off I immediately thought of the day. My thoughts went back to the 12th. As Dad brought the mail in he handed me a letter much to my surprise. Me, a letter, I never got any mail but there it was in my palm a letter with Sargent Central stamped on it and in the upper left hand corner was the name Coach Hanson. I had no idea who he was but was curious by the mail. I opened it up and it was a note stating that fall football practice would be opening on Thursday, September 21st at 9:00 AM. That was only nine days away. I had actually thought of football and wondered what it would be like to play. I remembered Dad talking about Ronald playing and how tough he was. According to Dad he was the toughest guy on the field and the smartest too! Well that was Dad talking about his favorite son but I did think it may have been true about Ronald. After all he graduated from college in three years and was now a teacher. I felt he was smart, strong, athletic and was about the best big brother ever.
I mulled the idea of football over and over in my mind. I had played little league baseball and had done very well in that. I had played basketball in grade school and thought I was pretty good but I was not sure if I was good because of my height or skill. Now as a soon to be freshman in high school I was 5 feet 11 inches and pretty darn fit. I guess there was nothing wrong with lifting bales of hay for cousin Russel and then throwing 1000's of rocks from the rock wagon to into the rock pile! Ronald had brought some bar bells home but using them was a bit boring.
So here I sat on the edge of the bed watching the room turn into a crimson yellow from the sun and holding a letter about football from coach Hanson. This morning, at 9:00 AM was the first practice and I had not even asked Dad if I could play. I was pretty sure if I asked he would say "no" because I would be staying after school everyday and for the practices before the start of school I would have to get to Forman which was a twenty-five mile drive. I got dressed, stuffed the letter under the radio for good keeping and hurried down the stairs to see what Mom had for breakfast. If it was Oatmeal I decided I would not be hungry. Mom surprised me with fried eggs and toast with chokecherry jam so I wolfed down my food and kind of hurried out the door. I would be plowing today and I hoped I could finish late in the day or tomorrow for sure. With the three bottom plow behind the "M" plowing was not the fastest! It used to be the "M" and the Ford but Dave had started to work away from home a couple of summers before so I was solo in the plowing.
I shortened my dinner break at noon because I wanted to finish. I even took an extra round after I saw Mom's white towel on the barn door. Now that meant I was serious! As the sun set I took stock of the field and decided that there was at least a good three hours of plowing left. That meant working with the lights on the tractor for some time and I decided it was not worth the effort so I would call it a day and finish up the next morning. As I hit the east end of the field for the last time the sun was already set and it was getting dark. I changed gears and headed home, around the pasture and over the bridge to the east of our farm. When I entered the house Mom asked in a surprised voice, "What got into you?" She knew that sundown was usually my cue to call it a day. I explained that I had wanted to finish but it got too late. She smiled, in her special mom way, and set a steaming plate of mush for me to enjoy.
I decided I was too tired and it was too dark to take my nightly bath in Lake Tewaukon so I said good night to Mom and Dad and headed upstairs. As I slide into bed my eye caught the letter and at that point I decided I wanted to try football. I was not into asking Dad for anything so as I slowly descended the stairs, making sure not to knock down any of his reloading equipment, I actually said a little prayer. "Please Jesus have Dad say yes". I walked into the living room and of course Dad was sitting in his chair reading a magazine. It would be a photographer's magazine or the American Rifle Men. I stood for a moment in front of him before he looked up with a puzzled face. "Dad could I try out for the high school football team?" To my amazement without blinking an eye or lifting his head he said, "Sure". I then told him it started today but I thought I could still go. He asked me if I had finished plowing and I said I could finish up tomorrow morning but the practises are in the morning before school starts. He thought for a moment and then said I should finish the plowing in the morning and he would take me to Forman on Monday. As I mounted the stairs again, missing his equipment for reloading for the second time, I wondered what I had gotten myself into.
Monday morning morning came almost to quickly. I knew practice started at 9:00 but Dad had to put gas "on the car" so we did not get going until 8:40. I knew we would not make it by 9:00. Sure enough we pulled into the school parking lot at 9:10 and it looked like half the school was on the football field doing exercises. As Dad scanned the field he did not see coach Hanson so we walked into the school. Dad asked the school clerk where we could find coach Hanson and she said he may still be in the locker room. Just go to your left, down the stairs and you may find him in the locker room. If he is not there he may have just left for the field. As I trailed Dad down the stairs we met this guy who looked like he could be a lot older than Dad. He gave away his title by the black and silver whistle hanging on what looked like a broken shoe string. Dad stopped and said, "Hi I am Lawrence Lee and this is my son Carmen. He is interested in trying out for the team." He said nothing about being two days late. Coach Hanson smiled but to this day I think I caught a glimpse of hope in his smile. Here he was seeing a freshman who obviously had not shaved that morning. I was about as tall as coach Hanson and showed arms and shoulders of a farm kid who was not afraid of work. He even perhaps thought I may be part Native American as my summer tan had a hue of dark dark brown sweat as I was nervous and afraid. Coach quickly said it was not too late. He told Dad that practice would be over by 11:00. I hesitantly followed coach down the rest of the stairs as Dad ascended the stairs and disappeared. I felt I was going into a wilderness where everything was foreign. Coach Hanson disappeared into the equipment room and asked me to follow. He pulled out this and that and things I had never seen. I knew what shoulder pads were but rib pads, knee pads, thigh pads and of course football pants with pockets on the inside where pads went. It was a mixed bag of things as of course the equipment had all been picked over. Then there was a helmet that was a tad too small, shoes that were a bit too big and then the QUESTION came? Do you have a jock strap? I didn't even know what he was talking about. He went into his office and brought out a small box and seeing it I knew what it was for. Coach asked me to get all of the equipment on and then join guys on the field. He would meet me out there.
I was awestruck and afraid as I walked out onto the field. Practice was now into the third day and I knew nothing of what was going on. I was able to spot Larry, my best friend in grade school, and quickly got in line behind him. At that time Larry was about half a head shorter than I but by the time we were seniors he was a few inches taller than I. Our first drill was a tackling drill. I watched intently as guy after guy lined up to tackle someone. When it came to my turn I was standing against a guy who was bigger and older than I. When the whistle blew I lunged forward, caught the upper part of the guys legs with both arms and the next thing I knew he was flat on his back with me on top. I thought I must have done something wrong but as I got up Larry gave me the thumbs up sign and, for the first time that morning, I was able to crack a thin smile.
The morning, from then on, went quickly. For the most part I knew not a thing of what we were doing but I tried to watch and do what others did. I learned that morning that football was fun and I also learned that I was stronger than many of the guys on the team. Does that mean I was better, no not at all as the learning curve was steep.
As practice ended everyone meandered into the locker room, stripped and got into the showers. I was not sure what to do. The last time I stood naked in front of guys was when I boxed in the fourth grade and that was embarrassing. Well what could I do? Cayuga school did not have showers, my home did not even have a bathroom so I decided it was time to enjoy the luxuries of a daily shower.
I lettered that first year and football became my favorite sport. After my junior year I was voted captain for the next fall. My junior year we were conference champions and the school superintendent gave us a ride to Minnesota to watch a Viking game. We got on the school bus early in the morning and returned late that night. In the cities we watched the game, ate out and the bus took a tour of the airport so we would catch a glimpse of the big planes!
In my senior year things did not go so well. Coach Hanson retired and our new coach certainly could have vied for the worst coach of all times. Apart from losing many good players through graduation the previous May several of our best players suffered injuries that curtailed their playing time. We won one game so as memories go perhaps my best memory of that senior year was crowning the homecoming queen with a kiss on the cheek! I think I was the only one who was able to kiss Nancy in her high school years! Of course I have no proof of that.
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