During the season football was the essence of obsession. It was my ticket out of nowhere to go somewhere. My ticket to paradise where cheerleaders were as plentiful as the next smile at them.
When I did distance training I ran half the way with a football tucked into my right arm, and half with it tucked in my left arm.
When no one else would play I would go run through the desert with a football and pretend the mesquite bushes were tacklers. I never knew where the next bush would be and if the branches brushed me it was the same as being tackled. This training exercise ended for me one day as I turned a corner around a bush and had to leap over a 6 foot long rattlesnake. I broke the long jump record that day. The only problem is the only witness had a forked tongue and hissed.
It's hard to explain enjoying pain, but it was almost a comforting feeling after a game to wake up so sore I could barely move. In my mind I can still smell my traditional after game breakfast of a western omlette and bacon on Saturday morning. I still order orange juice for breakfast on Saturday morning if I eat out. On any other day of the week I will order water or apple juice. Saturdays has to be orange juice. I can't explain why.
Then came college and the ticket to somewhere coming true. College for a football player is almost the ascension into deity. You eat at the cafeteria, but don't have to stand in line, and you get extra portions. College football meant never having to wear old sneakers, and though the dream of cheerleaders hanging all over me never materialized, I can't say I'd trade places with non players on a college campus.
I still prefer watching games on TV in a completely dark room because it reminds me of film sessions. The hum of the projector and the banter of the coaches as they outlined chess with human pieces was interrupted only by the clicking of a pointer on the white wall as something was pointed out that we had to watch for. Maybe that's why I don't mind John Madden and his "boom" drawings the way some do. For me he talks like a coach, and it is somehow comforting.
For me, football was never a game. It was my escape from the pressure of the real world that I desperately wanted out of because for me, growing up, it was a nightmare. Under those lights, on those fresh cut grass fields, whether it was cheers or boos, everything was right in world. Especially if we won. There is nothing like winning and seeing grinning teammates and coaches all around you. That's when you wish it would never fade into the recesses of your memory as age pushes those days further and further away.
But you always have the memories, and you treasure them.