Playing with Friends

 

One of the things that athletes have told me for years is that the greatest thing about playing on a team, and maybe especially about playing on a high school team, is the opportunity to play a sport you love with kids you have grown up with.

Even though it has been a very long time (a VERY long time), I can remember those same feelings. And I can remember those days like they were yesterday.

When I was in Junior High, the local high school built a completely new facility, in a farm field within walking distance of my house. The “old” high school was in town, high on a hill. Growing up, I attended a lot of events there, from dances (yes, while in Junior High) to basketball games in a gym that resembled a smaller version of Cameron Indoor Arena at Duke to football games on the hill above the school.

My Pee Wee and Midget football games were played on that same field. I dreamed of someday playing my high school games on that same field. But the school system chose differently and built what we always called the “new” high school. Almost across the street from where I lived.

One of the first things they did was to level the field where the football field was to be and sowed it with grass. Football was always king in the little town where I grew up.  When that grass got high enough to mow, they recruited a bunch of us young boys to come and mow it with our lawn mowers.

I was in that select group. There were riding lawn mowers back then (and yes, combustion engines) but they wanted it “push-mowed.” They paid us so we were happy to do it. A lot of us made our summer money by mowing yards.

Somebody, I don’t remember who, had brought a football to the mowing, so as soon as the mowing was finished, we divided up and played a football game.

No referees. No lines. No goal posts. Just a vast expanse of green grass, freshly mowed. You can be sure it was full on tackle football. None of this “two hand touch” game.

Played without helmets or pads. We lined up the mowers to designate the goal line on either end of the field. First downs were 10 yards or they might be 20 yards. We decided as we went along.

I remember that the game was marked by lots of long runs by the quicker individuals on the field. I definitely wasn’t one of those. I was a linebacker-type. Hit you hard if I could catch you.

I don’t remember who was there that day (there are some lapses in my memory), but I have always been proud of playing the first football game on that field, the same field that I would play my high school games.

I remember those days clearly. And I especially remember my coaches and my teammates. I remember games and can quote scores from my senior year. But the people. They were special and memorable.

Head Coach Bert “Chig” Ratledge. Never called him by that nickname. He was always Coach Ratledge. Coach Gary Dutton, still a friend and still influencing young people. Coach Buddy Windle, who was on a walker the last time I saw him.

Teammates Mike Bivens, J.L. Millsaps, Lonnie Hawkins, Tony Mays, Greg Cagle. Those were from my class. From other classes, Ricky Alexander, Jerry Buckner, Gordo Watson, Dickie Blankenship, Jake Lane, Yancy Hampton. Dano Rogers, the hardest 180 pounds in history.

Some of them, I’ve kept in touch with through the years. Most are just memories. But when I do see any of that old gang, that bond that was forged on that expanse of grass is still there, still strong.

Enjoy your days in sports. Embrace your teammates. Appreciate your coaches. Blink an eye and you’re an old man with only memories.