Some recent events have gotten me to thinking about my life so far. And after going over some things in my mind and with my friends I have decieded to share them with you.
I'm not sure where to start, so I'll just start with the point that I think I truely began to form as a person. That would be the summer after my 7th grade year, when I learned that I would be moving. What made this worse, and in some ways easier, is that I would have one more quarter at the school I was currently at.
This gave me time to spend time with my friends before I left and 1 more football(american) with my team. Now to say that I wasn't happy with the fact that I was moving would be a massive understatement. Now what might give that away is that when my father told me of this, instead of crying like my sister, I punched him in the face. And this wasn't just a little kid hitting his dad, I had just turned 12 and was already 6 feet tall and weighed about 200 pounds. I broke his nose, and that put me into a rocky relationship with him for years to come. Because who wants their Pastor to show up to preach with a broken nose and two black eyes.
Looking back now, I certainly could have handled my anger much better, but hindsight is 20/20. I tried to make the best of my final days with my friends and teammates, but it was hard for me. I had grown up going to school with them, and playing Pop Warner football with most of them. And i knew that I would have a big adjustment ahead of me, or so I thought.
After we got into our new house, which was only 20 miles away(but that might as well have been 100 for someone who couldn't drive), I faked being sick for about a week so I wouldn't have to go to my new school. Now that I think about it I know my parents knew I was faking, but they just felt bad for me. Now part of that has to do with the fact that my sister didn't have to change schools, because she went to a private all girls school(that cost my parents $13,000 a year, but I'm not bitter or anything) while I was in public school.
Now for my first day at my new school, North Davidson Middle School. Which to me was where rednecks and hillbillys came from. Just to preface that statement, I'm a big white kid who came from a school that was 80/15/5 percent Black, Hispanic, White in that order. Now NDMS was 95% White, 5% Black, so it was quiet the culture shock for me.
So I walk into my first period class, escorted by the guidance councilor, late so I could be "introduced" to the kids that I was sure were going to give me hell. It was a science class and the teacher was nowhere to be found, so this guidance lady just left me. And all these kids just stared at me as a looked for a seat. Now I figured it would be a good day because there was a tv parked on a cart at the front of the room.
I sat down on the front row with a seat between me and someones backpack that wasn't in the room. I was promptly informed by 3 guys in the back that i didn't want to sit there. because that guy was weird. So I got up to move to the back to sit with these guys. And as I was shuffling around the room I heard and I quote "Who the hell are you, and what in Christs name are you doing in my classroom". I turn around to see a VERY large man standing at the teachers desk with a whole box of Krispy Kreme donuts.
I will try to best describe Mr. Gooch as best I can, now I'm not joking when I say this, he looked and sound EXACTLY like the Cajun guy/coach from the water boy. And I do mean exactly.
At about this point the kid who's stuff was sitting in the front row walked in, and he was the sterotypical overweight geek/nerd/guy who always gets picked on. I had left my backpack on the front row, nowhere near his things, and he picked it up said "Who the hells shit is this?" and threw it out into the hall. Now I'm not one to take shit from anyone, so I told it was mine and he best go get it before he finds himself outside beside it.
Mr. Gooch just laughed at me, which I didn't think was funny because I was serious, and went and got my backpack. The day went on and I got along very good with my new classmates and was not longer worried about my situation. But in my last class of the day, the same guy who threw my stuff in the hall, Zach, tripped me on my way to the restroom and told me he hated me and hoped I died while I was on the floor.
I had began to feel sorry for him in my other classes because the other kids continually picked on him, but after that I never cared for him. The rest of the year went on an I fit in nicely, despite the very different background I came from. Now Zach and I never got along and I became the most vocal of the students picking on him.
Now I realize I did go to far when attacking him, and that was evident when he came to school with a hit list and I was at the top of it.
Fast forward to my junior year of high school, I was the captian of the varsity football team's defense, and we were slated to open the season agianst a very big opponent. Well big for me, we were playing the high school that I would have attended if I hadn't have moved. A great many of my friends were members of that team, so I was stoked to play them.
We traveled to their school that Friday night to play under the lights, a great expeirence, for those of you who never did and one that those of you who did would love to do again. During the coin toss I shook hands with my best friend, who played for North Forsyth and told him that he better get ready to take a beating.
A little background of our fottball careers, I was an outside linebacker/ defensive end. He was the starting quarterback in their very pass happy offense. He was a 3 year starter on NF's varsity team, and I was a 2 year starter for my team. in the 4 years since my move I had grown to 6'3 and worked myself to an even 235 pounds of muscle. He was about 6'1, 185, so a really small guy bulk wise, but hard as hell to get to the ground.
As the game started my team began the beating I had promised him, we opened on defense and on the first play of the game I sacked Cody,my best friend, for a 10yd loss. On the second I picked off his pass intended to the running back in the flat, and was tackled by cody after a 20yd return.
Also to note I had played at one point or another just about every starter for NF. We were always very competitive at anything we did, so by the start of the 4th quarter when I had already racked up 5 sacks, and Interception, and a total of 20 tackles( 10 for a loss), they were getting tired of me. My teams Nose tackle had just gone off the feild for a breather, and I lined up on the line in his place. Once the ball was snapped all I felt were my knee poping and cracking.
Next thing I remember I woke up on a stretcher on the sidelines with my coach just staring at me. Now I had a slight ache in my head and I sat up and tried to swing my legs off the stretcher so I could go back into the game. At that point the worst pain I've ever felt just exploded in my knees. For the remainder of the game I just laid there and didn't say a word to anyone. My knees just throbbing and yet having a knife like stabbing sensation at the same time, the large ice packs on them not helping at all.
After the game was over Cody jogged across the field and came to talk to me. He had a black eye and bloddy nose hta my safety had apparently given him after I was out. We had a short conversation before our team doctor told him that I needed to go to the E.R for X-rays. He teared up and told me he was sorry and then walked off.
I learned later that my running back had gone off for 145yds and 3 scores after I had gone out of the game, adding to his already impressive 125yds and 2 scores from the first 3 quarters. The following Monday I learned that I had a severe crush fracture in my left knee along with a torn MCL, and in my right knee a torn MCL and ACL.
I still didn't know what exactly know what happened because my parents weren't at the game and I hadn't talked to any of my teammates. So The next day I went to school on crutch's, I arrived late and went straight to my coach's office and demanded to watch the game film. Turns out I had gotten a double chop block. I had engaged the center after the ball snapped and both guards went for cut blocks on me, and they obviously connected. I watched myself go down and apparently passout, from the pain is all I can figure, and get carted off the field.
Several weeks later I met with a Sports medicine doctor from Wake Forest University and was told that if I liked walking, and wanted to do so without a life long limp, that I should stay away from football. Despite my love for the game I gave it up. But I never missed a practice or game that entire season, always wanting to just be with my teammates, and have that brotherhood.
I'll never forget the way my friend Cody treated me after it though. By that time we both could drive, and always kept in touch and hung out together. But he always seemed to thing he owed me, that it was his fault that I couldn't play. Now he seemed to think that he cost me a college scholorship, and while I'd like to think that was true, it wasn't. I was just a very good player on a good team. But I wasn't Clay Matthews or Ray Lewis in a high schoolers body.
The next year went by very fast and we graduated and went our seperated ways, but always keeping in touch.
Now that I've gone throught this blog, I'm not sure what the first part has to do with anything. But I reckon it has also helped to form me as a person. But I spent alot of time typing that so I'm not just gonna delete it all willy nilly.
The moral to this story is that you need to enjoy what you have, and who you have while you have them. No matter what happens, things could get worse. And went they knock you down and make your knees next to worthless, get back up and keep going.
But most of all, tell your friends that you care about them, and that you love them.
R.I.P Cody F. B. You will always be missed, remembered, and loved. The world already sucks a little bit more without.