It didn't take long for us to dread every portage. One time, we noticed that there was a stream that connected the two lakes and the portage trail ran alongside this stream. Rather than carry our canoes over the portage, we decided to try and pull them through the stream. So we got out of the canoe, stood in the stream, and one of us pulled the tow rope in the front and the other of us pushed from behind. As I recall it was tough going. The water was swift and we were going against the current. But it felt so good to not have to lift the heavy canoe over another portage. In reality, we probably worked harder by pulling the canoe through the stream.
The last full day of our trip we had to paddle the length of the longest lake of the trip. And there was a pretty stiff head wind making it doubly hard to paddle. I remember being out in the middle of this wide lake with wave after wave coming straight at us. I was afraid that if our canoe got turned sideways the waves would dump us over and our gear would sink to the bottom. I worked very hard to keep us headed straight at the wind. It was very tiring and we were not making much progress. Then we noticed another group of canoers passing us by on our left. They knew something we didn't. They knew that if you get your canoes over by the shore on the leeward side of the lake (the side of the lake where the wind is coming from) the hills along the bank block the wind and the paddling is much easier. We immediately made a beeline for the shore on our left. We soon noticed that the wind was much less stiff, the waves much smaller, and the paddling much easier. We began to make headway and eventually made it to the end of the lake where we camped for the last night of the trip.
In life, when the going is tough, it is ok to rely on others to help you make it through. You don't have to stay out in the middle of it all and take it on all by yourself. The going is much easier when you have the support of others.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Portage is a dirty word
One summer when I was Bishop of the Louisville 2nd Ward our Varsity Scouts went on a high adventure in the Boundary Waters area of northern Minnesota. I went along for the trip because both Ben and Joe were in the group. Brother David Beers was the scout leader who put most of the trip together. We had a 50 mile canoe trip planned. The Boundary Waters Canoe Area is very strict and limits the size of a group that can canoe at any one place. We had too many in our group to all go together so we divided into 2 groups. We had a circular route planned. Half of the group went clockwise and half went counterclockwise. That meant we would pass each other one time halfway through the trip.
The trip began with a long car ride from Louisville to the starting point in the far northern part of Minnesota. As I recall, it took about 18 hours of driving. We had made arrangements with an outfitter to supply the canoes, so all we had to take was our packs with clothing and food and sleeping bags. We made it to the outfitters without incident and they took us to the starting point. One group started out to the left and one started out to the right. Our planned route involved canoeing the length of many different lakes that were close together in an end to beginningl arrangement, much like the holes on a golf course. The map made it look like each lake was very close to the next one. Each lake was connected by an overland trail that was called a portage. We soon learned to hate the word, "portage." At the end of the first lake we came to our first portage. Here we had to traverse the trail twice, once to carry our backpacks and other supplies, and a second time to carry our canoes. This involved turning the canoe upside down and resting the bottom on top of our heads. There were two of us to each canoe and it took both of us to carry it across the portage. It was a little difficult to see with the canoe hanging over our heads. Sometimes we just held the canoe at our sides and held it off the ground as we walked. Neither way was all that easy. The canoes felt pretty heavy once they were out of the water. To make matters worse, the trail went through thick woods that were infested with hungry mosquitoes. We would spray ourselves with Deet and that would keep the mosquitoes away, but as we walked and sweated the mosquito repellent would wear off and the attack would begin. Some of the portages were short and some were way long (I think the longest was about 1 mile). Canoes were obviously made for moving through the water and not so much for carrying across land.
We were in bear country. At each campsite we would tie ropes around our packs and haul them high up a tree to keep them away from the bears. The very first night we had a bear attack. We were awakened in the middle of the night by the sounds of something pulling and ripping at somebody's backpack. I remember feeling pretty scared, but also thinking about needing to protect the scouts. I had a flashlight that also had an emergency siren included and thought that I could maybe scare the bear away by turning on the siren. So I opened my tent and turned on the siren. As I did this, the thought occurred to me, "Well, you just let the bear know where you are." I can't remember how, but we finally got the bear to leave our camp. In the morning, we found out that Brian Haynes had his backpack taken and destroyed by the bear. Apparently, Brian didn't pull it high enough off the ground. The bear was able to stretch up and get the pack. It was all ripped up. Brian had a squeeze bottle filled with honey that was totally trashed. I remember we could see holes in the bottle from the bear's claws. That morning while we were eating breakfast we saw a bear (we think it was the same one) up the hill a little way from camp. It was a black bear. Luckily, it stayed away and left us alone. That was the only bear sighting we had the whole week, but it sure was memorable. More to come...
The trip began with a long car ride from Louisville to the starting point in the far northern part of Minnesota. As I recall, it took about 18 hours of driving. We had made arrangements with an outfitter to supply the canoes, so all we had to take was our packs with clothing and food and sleeping bags. We made it to the outfitters without incident and they took us to the starting point. One group started out to the left and one started out to the right. Our planned route involved canoeing the length of many different lakes that were close together in an end to beginningl arrangement, much like the holes on a golf course. The map made it look like each lake was very close to the next one. Each lake was connected by an overland trail that was called a portage. We soon learned to hate the word, "portage." At the end of the first lake we came to our first portage. Here we had to traverse the trail twice, once to carry our backpacks and other supplies, and a second time to carry our canoes. This involved turning the canoe upside down and resting the bottom on top of our heads. There were two of us to each canoe and it took both of us to carry it across the portage. It was a little difficult to see with the canoe hanging over our heads. Sometimes we just held the canoe at our sides and held it off the ground as we walked. Neither way was all that easy. The canoes felt pretty heavy once they were out of the water. To make matters worse, the trail went through thick woods that were infested with hungry mosquitoes. We would spray ourselves with Deet and that would keep the mosquitoes away, but as we walked and sweated the mosquito repellent would wear off and the attack would begin. Some of the portages were short and some were way long (I think the longest was about 1 mile). Canoes were obviously made for moving through the water and not so much for carrying across land.
We were in bear country. At each campsite we would tie ropes around our packs and haul them high up a tree to keep them away from the bears. The very first night we had a bear attack. We were awakened in the middle of the night by the sounds of something pulling and ripping at somebody's backpack. I remember feeling pretty scared, but also thinking about needing to protect the scouts. I had a flashlight that also had an emergency siren included and thought that I could maybe scare the bear away by turning on the siren. So I opened my tent and turned on the siren. As I did this, the thought occurred to me, "Well, you just let the bear know where you are." I can't remember how, but we finally got the bear to leave our camp. In the morning, we found out that Brian Haynes had his backpack taken and destroyed by the bear. Apparently, Brian didn't pull it high enough off the ground. The bear was able to stretch up and get the pack. It was all ripped up. Brian had a squeeze bottle filled with honey that was totally trashed. I remember we could see holes in the bottle from the bear's claws. That morning while we were eating breakfast we saw a bear (we think it was the same one) up the hill a little way from camp. It was a black bear. Luckily, it stayed away and left us alone. That was the only bear sighting we had the whole week, but it sure was memorable. More to come...
Sunday, July 10, 2011
"Joe's Going Off the Road!"
One summer when we lived in Louisville, we had a road trip planned to visit Utah for summer vacation. Our friends, Mike and Roxanne Jarvis, had recently moved to Utah and had left their little Datsun pickup truck behind, and asked us if we could drive it out with us. We had four drivers in the family, Kathy and I, and Ben and Joe. We decided to rotate drivers through our van and the pickup and make the trip straight through without stopping at a motel.
Things got started as planned. We strapped our car-top carrier into the bed of the pickup truck and had two riding in the cab and the rest in the family van. It was a hot summer day and the windows of the truck needed to be rolled down because there was no air conditioning. Things went as planned until we were almost to Kansas City. Joe was driving the truck and Betsy was in the passenger seat. I was driving the van and was in front of the group. I remember periodically looking in my rearview mirror to make sure all was right with Joe and the truck. One time as I glanced back I saw the truck move off the road onto the right shoulder. I remember saying something like, "Joe is going off the road." As I watched I saw the truck come back onto the road and thought all would be ok, but then the truck continued across both westbound lanes and pitched into the median on the left. Apparently a bee had flown into the cab and Joe was trying to brush it away from Betsy when he went off the road to the right. When he came back onto the road and moved to the left side, we think a tire blew and caused them to pitch into the median. I will never forget the scene as I viewed it in the mirror. The car began to roll head over tail down the median, over and over. It finally came to a rest in the median, on its left side, pointing back toward the east.
It took me a few seconds to get the van safely stopped and then we all piled out and started to sprint back down the median toward the truck. Poor Kathy was about 8 months pregnant with Caleb. I remember wondering what we would find when we finally got to the truck. It seemed like it took forever to run that few hundred yards. I remember that other people were already there to offer aid. I remember that the engine was on fire and the the first person on the scene had a fire extinguisher with them and put out the fire. I remember seeing Betsy's head pop up out of the right side of the car, through the window that had been broken out. I remember seeing Joe roll out of the driver's seat through the back window of the cab that was also broken out. His window was down against the ground so he couldn't go that way. Both had their seat belts on and were not ejected from the truck. The roof of the cab was smashed in in the middle, but both sides where their heads were were not smashed. There was a troop of boy scouts who stopped and several with emergency response training who stopped. They helped us get Betsy and Joe away from the truck and called 911 for help.
As far as we could tell, they both seemed ok. They had some cuts and scrapes and Betsy appeared to have a bloody mouth. On closer inspection, we found that she had red cardboard from the cover of a hardback book stuck in her braces. Apparently she was reading the book when this happened and it flew up against her face and her braces took a piece of the cover. The ambulance arrived and Joe and Betsy were both strapped to boards so they could be safely transported to a nearby regional hospital. We strapped the car-top carrier onto the roof of the van (it had been thrown out of the truck bed, but was pretty much still intact), piled into the van and followed the ambulance to the hospital. The doctor there examined Joe and Betsy, took a few X-rays, and concluded that there were no broken bones or significant injuries. About three hours after the accident we were on the road again. Now all crunched in the van, but all alive.
When I think about that accident, I marvel that neither Joe nor Betsy was hurt (beyond scrapes and bruises). They had to have been going at least 65 mph as they pitched into the median. I hear all the time about fatal accidents when the cars were going much slower than that. Sometimes I look at Joe, now 35 and the father of 5, or Betsy, now 31 and the mother of 4, and thank Heavenly Father for preserving their lives. I think about that person who had the fire extinguisher and want to thank him, but I don't even remember him being around during the aftermath. The only thing that died that day, was the Jarvis's yellow Datsun pickup truck. It was totaled and we left it in the median of Highway 70 waiting for a tow truck to come and haul it away. It was a hard phone call to make when we had to let Mike Jarvis know that we had totaled his truck.
Things got started as planned. We strapped our car-top carrier into the bed of the pickup truck and had two riding in the cab and the rest in the family van. It was a hot summer day and the windows of the truck needed to be rolled down because there was no air conditioning. Things went as planned until we were almost to Kansas City. Joe was driving the truck and Betsy was in the passenger seat. I was driving the van and was in front of the group. I remember periodically looking in my rearview mirror to make sure all was right with Joe and the truck. One time as I glanced back I saw the truck move off the road onto the right shoulder. I remember saying something like, "Joe is going off the road." As I watched I saw the truck come back onto the road and thought all would be ok, but then the truck continued across both westbound lanes and pitched into the median on the left. Apparently a bee had flown into the cab and Joe was trying to brush it away from Betsy when he went off the road to the right. When he came back onto the road and moved to the left side, we think a tire blew and caused them to pitch into the median. I will never forget the scene as I viewed it in the mirror. The car began to roll head over tail down the median, over and over. It finally came to a rest in the median, on its left side, pointing back toward the east.
It took me a few seconds to get the van safely stopped and then we all piled out and started to sprint back down the median toward the truck. Poor Kathy was about 8 months pregnant with Caleb. I remember wondering what we would find when we finally got to the truck. It seemed like it took forever to run that few hundred yards. I remember that other people were already there to offer aid. I remember that the engine was on fire and the the first person on the scene had a fire extinguisher with them and put out the fire. I remember seeing Betsy's head pop up out of the right side of the car, through the window that had been broken out. I remember seeing Joe roll out of the driver's seat through the back window of the cab that was also broken out. His window was down against the ground so he couldn't go that way. Both had their seat belts on and were not ejected from the truck. The roof of the cab was smashed in in the middle, but both sides where their heads were were not smashed. There was a troop of boy scouts who stopped and several with emergency response training who stopped. They helped us get Betsy and Joe away from the truck and called 911 for help.
As far as we could tell, they both seemed ok. They had some cuts and scrapes and Betsy appeared to have a bloody mouth. On closer inspection, we found that she had red cardboard from the cover of a hardback book stuck in her braces. Apparently she was reading the book when this happened and it flew up against her face and her braces took a piece of the cover. The ambulance arrived and Joe and Betsy were both strapped to boards so they could be safely transported to a nearby regional hospital. We strapped the car-top carrier onto the roof of the van (it had been thrown out of the truck bed, but was pretty much still intact), piled into the van and followed the ambulance to the hospital. The doctor there examined Joe and Betsy, took a few X-rays, and concluded that there were no broken bones or significant injuries. About three hours after the accident we were on the road again. Now all crunched in the van, but all alive.
When I think about that accident, I marvel that neither Joe nor Betsy was hurt (beyond scrapes and bruises). They had to have been going at least 65 mph as they pitched into the median. I hear all the time about fatal accidents when the cars were going much slower than that. Sometimes I look at Joe, now 35 and the father of 5, or Betsy, now 31 and the mother of 4, and thank Heavenly Father for preserving their lives. I think about that person who had the fire extinguisher and want to thank him, but I don't even remember him being around during the aftermath. The only thing that died that day, was the Jarvis's yellow Datsun pickup truck. It was totaled and we left it in the median of Highway 70 waiting for a tow truck to come and haul it away. It was a hard phone call to make when we had to let Mike Jarvis know that we had totaled his truck.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Deep Sea Fishing
I remember going on a deep sea fishing trip out of Monterrey, CA, when I was a teenager. I know lots of men and boys from our ward went, but I can't remember if it was a scout activity or what. I remember we piled onto a fishing boat and headed out to sea. The boat was fairly big. It had a deck all around the outside with a guard rail and it had a spot below deck where people could sit inside and eat and talk. The seas were calm at the beginning, but as we headed further out to the west they started to get pretty wavy. I remember the boat would sink to the bottom of a swale and we could see the next wave ahead higher than the whole boat. The boat would then rise to the top of that wave and then sink down. The boat was tossing and turning and giving us a fun ride. I started to notice that many of the people on board were hanging their heads over the guard rail. When I got closer I could see that they were all throwing up into the ocean. I guess the bumpy ride was making many of us sea sick. I was lucky. I didn't get see sick during this part of the ride. I remember there was one guy on the boat who had been in the navy and wasn't the least bit sea sick. He was walking around with a sandwich in his hand and whenever he sat by someone and took a bite, it just made them all the more sea sick.
I think the boat captain had a fish finding device, because at one point we got the word that it was time to fish. The idea was to catch as many fish as possible while we passed over a school. The trip was fairly expensive and some on board were hoping to catch enough fish to supply meat for their families for the whole next year. We used these stout deep sea fishing poles and dropped the line straight down the outside of the boat. A large weight was at the very end of the line and three treble hooks with fake squids for bait were located up the line toward the end of the rod. We just dropped the weight until it stopped and then waited a minute and then reeled the line back in. On the end there would be one to three large fish (maybe 2 feet long) hooked. There was no fight like when you catch a trout; they just hung there. The fish were pulled up over the guard rail, unhooked and left laying around on the deck. The line was immediately dropped back into the water to catch more fish. Only after the run across the top of the school was over did we put the fish in the large sacks for collection. I think we made several different runs over the school until everyone had full sacks. I only started to feel sea sick during this fishing part. Something about looking over the edge and down at the waves made me nauseous. But I never threw up :)
When we got back to shore it was interesting to watch the fish getting prepared to take home. Most of the fish we caught were cod. I guess only the thick slab of meat on either side of the fish is good to eat. This part is called the fillet. Men on the pier with knifes would cut off the outer skin and then slice off the thick fillet and put that in a bag that was on ice. Then they would turn the fish over and repeat the same maneuver. Most of the fish (maybe 75%) wasn't usable and was just discarded. I sort of remember that they just threw this back into the water as waste, but I may be wrong. I do remember there were lots of sea gulls around trying to get a free meal from the waste. I don't remember how much fish I finally ended up with. Some families that were hoping to provide food for the rest of the year ended up with quit a lot. Deep sea fishing was great fun.
I think the boat captain had a fish finding device, because at one point we got the word that it was time to fish. The idea was to catch as many fish as possible while we passed over a school. The trip was fairly expensive and some on board were hoping to catch enough fish to supply meat for their families for the whole next year. We used these stout deep sea fishing poles and dropped the line straight down the outside of the boat. A large weight was at the very end of the line and three treble hooks with fake squids for bait were located up the line toward the end of the rod. We just dropped the weight until it stopped and then waited a minute and then reeled the line back in. On the end there would be one to three large fish (maybe 2 feet long) hooked. There was no fight like when you catch a trout; they just hung there. The fish were pulled up over the guard rail, unhooked and left laying around on the deck. The line was immediately dropped back into the water to catch more fish. Only after the run across the top of the school was over did we put the fish in the large sacks for collection. I think we made several different runs over the school until everyone had full sacks. I only started to feel sea sick during this fishing part. Something about looking over the edge and down at the waves made me nauseous. But I never threw up :)
When we got back to shore it was interesting to watch the fish getting prepared to take home. Most of the fish we caught were cod. I guess only the thick slab of meat on either side of the fish is good to eat. This part is called the fillet. Men on the pier with knifes would cut off the outer skin and then slice off the thick fillet and put that in a bag that was on ice. Then they would turn the fish over and repeat the same maneuver. Most of the fish (maybe 75%) wasn't usable and was just discarded. I sort of remember that they just threw this back into the water as waste, but I may be wrong. I do remember there were lots of sea gulls around trying to get a free meal from the waste. I don't remember how much fish I finally ended up with. Some families that were hoping to provide food for the rest of the year ended up with quit a lot. Deep sea fishing was great fun.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Be careful what you eat
When I was in high school I had a good friend named Clint Chew who was Chinese. He helped me get a job working in the Chinese food restaurant in food court of the Sun Valley Mall in Concord, CA. About three days a week I would work there after school. We had a steam table with different foods for the customers to choose from. There was fried rice, and chow mein, chow yuck, sweet and sour shrimp, egg fu young, and many others that I don't remember. Customers could get a 2-item plate or a 3-item plate. They would tell me which food they wanted and I would spoon a serving of it onto their plate. Egg fu young came with a choice of gravy. So, if a customer asked for egg fu young, I asked them if they wanted gravy with it. One night, a customer wanted egg fu young and I asked, "Do you want gravy with that?" As I opened my mouth to speak, I drooled all over the food on the plate. Nobody saw it, and I was embarrassed so I didn't say anything about it. I just finished the order and gave the customer his plate, drool and all. It was probably the best egg fu young he had every eaten.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
The best day of my life
What is the best day of your life so far? The best day of my life was August 14, 1974. That was the day Grandma and I got married. I only remember bits and pieces of that day. I remember arriving at the Oakland Temple in the morning. I remember that we went through an endowment session where Kathy received her own endowment and then we went into a sealing room where we were married and sealed together for time and all eternity. I don't remember the name of the man who performed the sealing and I don't remember a single word that he said. I remember that we had an open house at my parent's home in Fremont, CA, that night and that we stayed in the Honeymoon Suite in a hotel in South San Francisco.
If I remember so little about that day, why do I consider it the best day of my life? It's because it was the beginning of a wonderful adventure with the love of my life. Before I got married, everything was about me, myself and I. After I got married it was about us, ourselves, and we. I now had a partner in everything I did. When I was worried, I had Kathy to comfort and assure me. When I was sick, I had Kathy to nurse me. When I was scared, I had Kathy to help me be brave. When I needed to make a decision, I had Kathy to help me consider all of the possibilities and give me sound advice. Each time we loaded up our stuff and moved to a new place, we didn't have to go alone. We had each other for support.
You can mark the progress of our life together by considering what we needed to use to move all of our stuff. When we moved into our first apartment in Provo, we only needed the smallest U Haul trailer available. When we left Provo and moved to San Francisco four years later, we needed the largest trailer available (I remember how much work it was for our car to pull it up over Donner Summit). When we left San Francisco for Iowa four years later, we needed to rent a medium-sized U Haul truck. When we left Iowa for Kentucky three years later, we needed the biggest truck available. When we left Kentucky for Orem 13 years later we needed 2 of the largest trucks available, each with a trailer in tow for carrying our cars. Each of these phases of our lives required us to meet new friends, learn new routines, and step out of our zones of comfort. The fact that we could do this together made it all bearable. No matter what the situation, we had each other for support. I can't think of a better partner in all this than my Kathy.
Then there was the parenting. First came Ben and all of the new stuff about being a parent. Then came Joe and all of the stuff about caring for 2 babies at the same time. With two children, we could each take care of one. But when Sarah came, we had to figure out how two people could take care of three children. Then with Betsy, we had to learn how to take care of 4 little ones. And don't forget the many times when Kathy had to care for all four by herself. When Hannah came, that made 5 at once. The addition of Abby made six. By then some of the older ones could take care of themselves (with help from Sarah) and we functioned pretty well as a family team. Finally, we got Caleb and our family was complete.
Through those years, Kathy and I worked together as partners. I was in school during the first few years and worked part-time to make ends meet. Kathy worked full-time until she had Ben. When we moved to San Francisco, Kathy started to work part-time as a nurse and I got paid to be a Research Assistant. In Iowa, I got paid as a Postdoc and Kathy worked part-time as a nurse. In Kentucky, I got paid as an Assistant Professor and Kathy worked part-time as a nurse. In Orem, I got paid as an Associate Professor and Kathy worked part-time as a nurse.
I can't think of a better, fuller, happier life than mine. Getting married and raising a family may seem scary and a lot of work, but there is nothing on earth more worth it. I know you grand kids are still young, and marriage is a long way off. But I hope you will set a goal to someday marry in the temple and raise a family of your own. It will be well worth it.
If I remember so little about that day, why do I consider it the best day of my life? It's because it was the beginning of a wonderful adventure with the love of my life. Before I got married, everything was about me, myself and I. After I got married it was about us, ourselves, and we. I now had a partner in everything I did. When I was worried, I had Kathy to comfort and assure me. When I was sick, I had Kathy to nurse me. When I was scared, I had Kathy to help me be brave. When I needed to make a decision, I had Kathy to help me consider all of the possibilities and give me sound advice. Each time we loaded up our stuff and moved to a new place, we didn't have to go alone. We had each other for support.
You can mark the progress of our life together by considering what we needed to use to move all of our stuff. When we moved into our first apartment in Provo, we only needed the smallest U Haul trailer available. When we left Provo and moved to San Francisco four years later, we needed the largest trailer available (I remember how much work it was for our car to pull it up over Donner Summit). When we left San Francisco for Iowa four years later, we needed to rent a medium-sized U Haul truck. When we left Iowa for Kentucky three years later, we needed the biggest truck available. When we left Kentucky for Orem 13 years later we needed 2 of the largest trucks available, each with a trailer in tow for carrying our cars. Each of these phases of our lives required us to meet new friends, learn new routines, and step out of our zones of comfort. The fact that we could do this together made it all bearable. No matter what the situation, we had each other for support. I can't think of a better partner in all this than my Kathy.
Then there was the parenting. First came Ben and all of the new stuff about being a parent. Then came Joe and all of the stuff about caring for 2 babies at the same time. With two children, we could each take care of one. But when Sarah came, we had to figure out how two people could take care of three children. Then with Betsy, we had to learn how to take care of 4 little ones. And don't forget the many times when Kathy had to care for all four by herself. When Hannah came, that made 5 at once. The addition of Abby made six. By then some of the older ones could take care of themselves (with help from Sarah) and we functioned pretty well as a family team. Finally, we got Caleb and our family was complete.
Through those years, Kathy and I worked together as partners. I was in school during the first few years and worked part-time to make ends meet. Kathy worked full-time until she had Ben. When we moved to San Francisco, Kathy started to work part-time as a nurse and I got paid to be a Research Assistant. In Iowa, I got paid as a Postdoc and Kathy worked part-time as a nurse. In Kentucky, I got paid as an Assistant Professor and Kathy worked part-time as a nurse. In Orem, I got paid as an Associate Professor and Kathy worked part-time as a nurse.
I can't think of a better, fuller, happier life than mine. Getting married and raising a family may seem scary and a lot of work, but there is nothing on earth more worth it. I know you grand kids are still young, and marriage is a long way off. But I hope you will set a goal to someday marry in the temple and raise a family of your own. It will be well worth it.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
I'm sorry I didn't stick with football
I love football. I have always loved it. I was really excited to play tackle football when I finally entered high school. I remember that first summer of football practices. It was hard, tiring, hot, and fun. I was pretty fast, but not really big or strong so I decided to play defensive back. My biggest problem was that I wore glasses and had to take them off whenever I had on my football helmet. I really couldn't see very well without glasses and that affected my playing. It was especially bad if we played at night. Even though the field lights were on, I couldn't see as well without my glasses when it was dark.
I did pretty well my freshman year and got to play quite a bit. My sophomore year I played on the junior varsity team but didn't do as well and didn't play as much. Most sophomores were invited to play on the varsity team when they became juniors. I wasn't invited and was going to have to play on the junior varsity team for another year while all of my friends played on the varsity team. I was humiliated and decided to quit the team. If I would have stuck it out I am sure my skills would have gotten better and I would have been a good player on the varsity team my senior year.
When my senior year came, I really regretted that I wasn't playing on the team. They needed some good players with speed and I probably could have contributed. One of the football coaches was always telling me that they could have used me. I went to every game as a spectator instead of a player. I missed out on some real fun and growth because I was too proud to play junior varsity for a second year. If I had it to do over again, I would have played that junior year and prepared myself for a great senior year. I have tried since to not let my pride get in the way of what is best for me.
I did pretty well my freshman year and got to play quite a bit. My sophomore year I played on the junior varsity team but didn't do as well and didn't play as much. Most sophomores were invited to play on the varsity team when they became juniors. I wasn't invited and was going to have to play on the junior varsity team for another year while all of my friends played on the varsity team. I was humiliated and decided to quit the team. If I would have stuck it out I am sure my skills would have gotten better and I would have been a good player on the varsity team my senior year.
When my senior year came, I really regretted that I wasn't playing on the team. They needed some good players with speed and I probably could have contributed. One of the football coaches was always telling me that they could have used me. I went to every game as a spectator instead of a player. I missed out on some real fun and growth because I was too proud to play junior varsity for a second year. If I had it to do over again, I would have played that junior year and prepared myself for a great senior year. I have tried since to not let my pride get in the way of what is best for me.
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