Okay Kideeeees!
Its story time... with your favorite uncle,
Uncle Stuck Shakey!
Yes... Football season is upon us again kids!!
Did you know that your Uncle Stuck, played football on the 1978 North Providence High School football team?
I was a "wide receiver," and a "split end," and to this day, I couldn't tell you what my job was. I ran four patterns, (the post, the flag, out left, and out right), I'd turn around to catch the ball, at practices, but the ball was never there. I had a nearly clean uniform every week I played during my first and last, 3 game season.
Two memorable things happened to me while playing football.
First, during my first week of football practice, Bruce, probably 80 pounds heavier than I was, hit me so hard, that I actually shit myself! Pretty embarrassed... I walked off the field with my padded football pants full of dookie. Needless to say, I wasn't going to let one minor embarrassment, end my football career.
Second, a short three weeks later, Coach Pena let me play in a game against I think it was Woonsocket, or maybe it was Situate, or Burriville... I don't remember. I only remember it was some other equally shitty, high school team, fighting for honor of last place against North Providence. Coach Pena probably figured the team had nothing to win, so he'd put that 120 pound Campanelli kid in the game.
The center snapped the ball, the quarterback fell back, I shot off to run my perfunctory, yet always fruitless, 25 yard out flag pattern.
I turned around... and the football hit me... right in the gut! Instinctively, I caught the ball, and stood there, unable to breathe. I can't say what was going through my head, I was probably stunned, breathless, and definitely guppy breathing, I mean... I couldn't frickin' breath!
Looking back at that situation now, almost 40 years later, I realize that there were a couple of actions I might have taken, that could have changed the outcome of that day. I could have taken a knee, which would have ended the play. I could have just covered the ball, and laid down, which would have ended the play after the other team, touched me. I could have sucked it up, take the pain, and run with the ball, and get some yardage for the team. I could have dropped, or fumbled, the ball and lay down to deal with my inability to breath. Not having any wisdom, experience, or training, to rely upon, I just stood there, holding the ball. Which turned out, to be a bad thing to do, yet it was a good thing to do, in order to gain some "life" experience.
Some kid, bigger than Bruce, hit me with all the ferocity he could muster. I'm sure he wasn't trying to kill me, but after flying to through the air in that 1970's, "6 Million Dollar Man," slow motion fashion, along with that "du nu nu nu nu nu..." sound, I sure felt like I was dying when I hit the ground. My ears were ringing, my eyes were blurry, my stomach was killing me, my back, shoulders, and legs were cramping up, and added to the fact that I still couldn't breath, my balls were on fire.
Yet, I held onto the ball, for a gain of something like 10 yards, pretty good for a wide receiver, eh?
When I couldn't get up after the play was over, and after the three 200 pound kids, who "pig piled" on top of me, to make sure I didn't go anywhere, got off of me, a referee called "Time Out!" I'm not sure what happened next, but I ended up in the hospital, with a bunch of bruises, a concussion, and a hernia. My second hit, like many things in my life, was pivotal in changing the course of my life. There was to be no "third hit," or third strike.
I quit the football team. Looking back, retrospectively, I can say that in my life, I've taken loads of first strikes, a few second strikes, but very little third strikes. It seems that I am capable of learning from my mistakes, and occasionally, I have to make similar mistakes, only to reinforce previous lessons.
So, now I choose to go easy on people I think might be "screw ups." Chances are, they're probably like me, and yet, maybe they're a little "thicker," and just might need to get a concept physically "drilled" into them... a few times.
PEACE!!!
Campy Out!
