WET...But Ready

 

 

If we get anymore rain, this could be what our game will look like tomorrow night.  This photograph was taken in 1961.  Jimmy Taylor of the Green Bay Packers is grinding it out against the 49ers.  Bottom picture is Forrest Gregg after playing in the same game. 

Well, at least we were not run off the field today.  The pouring rain and lightning was already started when we arrived at school.  It was really nasty.  We did not need the rain today, for Thursday's are generally very busy for us.  Luckily, the rain cleared out by 4:15 PM, and we were able to take the field for awhile.  Believe it or not, we were able to complete everything we needed to do.  Our kids are really hungry for a win, so hopefully we will play well and bring one home for SRHS.  Of course, PSL Centennial is saying the same thing, so it will be a good match-up.  We are playing in PSL's South County Stadium, and it is a nice quality facility located across from Mets Stadium. The facility is easy in and easy out with plenty of room.  I really do not mind playing there; however, it will be nice to have a home game. 

Coach Miller is a very organized dude.  He has this notebook (new one every week) filled with diagrams, plays, and formations which the defense expects to see from our opposition for that week.  He gives me this notebook just before we start running the scout team for them.  I think he knows that I am just as anal as he is about being organized, and I am going to give him a good look at the opponent's offense.  Of course (on scout team) we cannot run the plays as well as the opposition, but we can at least give the defensive a decent look.  Miller will shout at me and say: "Coach, Run #4."  I will quickly examine the play, get my personnel in the huddle, and hold the card up so everyone can see what we are doing.  Here is the difficult part.  I tell the kids to ONLY look at what their position is doing on the play, and go out and do exactly what the card is showing.   However, kids will be kids, so they want to improvise.  I have to keep a short leash on that.  Coach Miller and Coach Perry allow me to make minor adjustments as long as we stay in the whole scheme of the team we are imitating.  In other words, we can't go out and run a veer play, when the other team may be running spread.  I enjoy the scout team duty, and I am generally left alone to do my thing. 

I had some VERY wet feet today.  When I was walking onto the field, I was trying to dodge the big puddles of water, but it was no use.  My feet were already soaked.  I went ahead and bit-the-bullet and just waded through the standing water in the swales.  I HATE wet feet and wet shoes as I have written before.  I think the hatred started back at football camp when I was in high school. 

When I was a freshman, we attended a full team camp at Morehead State University.  They had a nice practice facility, but unfortunately, the practice fields were about a mile from the athletic dorms.  We had to run that distance before and after every practice.  I remember running through mud and standing water just getting to the field, and then we were forced to practice for three hours in soaking wet feet.  Of course, we did not have laundry service, so we were all out of clean dry socks and under garments by the second day of camp.  We would hang out our socks and under garments (to dry) in our non air conditioned dorm room, but they never really dried.  We would select our socks and under garments by how they smelled before practice.  Our cleats NEVER dried.  I remember most of us had a good case of Jock Itch and Athlete's Feet when we returned.   LOL.  Football was so much fun!

Remember, I told you we did not have Athletic Trainers in those days.  The coaches would keep a roll of tape in their pocket, and they would always have a supply of salt tablets and smelling salts

as well.  Injuries were generally self-diagnosed at practice.  At football camp, it was even worse.  I had this friend who really had a bad hamstring.  It would tighten up and he could barely walk at times.  Anyway, he decided (on his own) not to dress for a morning practice.  He came to practice wearing a pair of white shorts, a red shirt, white over-the-calf tube socks, and a brand new pair of RED Suede Converse tennis shoes.   One of the assistant coaches asked my friend who told him NOT to dress for the practice?  My friend says: "Coach, I can barely walk!"  This may have been a mistake in strategy by my friend. 

Morehead's practice fields were sort of set down inside of a valley.  Kentucky blue grass lined the steep slopes leading down onto the fields.  In the mornings, the grass was soaking wet from the morning dew, or rain, or both it seems.  The Coach ordered my friend to hit the ground and roll up and down the slopes (like a log) the entire practice.  I will never forget that his new Converse Red Suede shoes started to lose color (because they were wet) and the shoe's red dye ran onto his white socks.  This punishment went on for hours it seems.  My friend was throwing up and started cramping.  After a while, it was not funny to us anymore.  Again, a stunt like that would get us fired for sure.  Like I said before, my early HS coaches were idiots. 

Someday, I want to Coach My Grandson Grice. 

 

I will catch you tomorrow after the game!

GZ