My Journal 180

Final Score 48 – 0

That score represents the worst loss I ever had in a football game. As usual there is a story in there too, so here we go.

Bussing was beginning when I was in Junior High. The goal was to mix the races in each school. It didn’t work at all. So by High School it was back to the previous normal. In my district we had the rich white kid’s school, the Hispanic kid’s school, the black kid’s school, and mine which was the white country school.

[No, I am not a racist. This is how things were back then.]

This particular game was the next to last of my sophomore year. This was the year immediately after I had my leg crushed. I played the entire season wearing a knee brace, attached to a brace designed to hold my leg together and attached at the bottom to my cleats. I was nicknamed the bionic man that season because I had more metal on me than pads.

We were playing against one of the top athletes in the state, a senior named Thomas Lott. He was big, strong, smart and unbelievably fast. He was the top quarterback in the state, led the state in rushing yards, ranked fourth in the state in passing yards, and was already signed to play for Oklahoma. He actually quarterbacked Oklahoma for four years making All American three out of four years.

He was a bad ass ball player. I wanted so much to race that kid in track someday, but because of the age difference we were never on the track at the same time.

On that horrific night, my team could do nothing right. We were a bad team as we only won one game all season. But we had played every team very tough thus far, even though we sucked. But that night we were miserable. And they were cocky. There was a lot of “jawing” going on; talk about your mother, your sister and your girlfriend. And we were being beaten physically as well.

Lott threw a 50 yard bomb on the last play of the game, and scored their final touchdown. That put the score at 48 – 0. And their end zone celebration lasted for an eternity. The game was now over, the clock showed no seconds left to play; but they still had to kick their extra point. I was frustrated and embarrassed. And that was about to change.

When they raced onto the field for the extra point try, the sent out the starting offense including Lott. To add additional insult to injury, they were about to go for a two point conversion so they could say they beat us 50 – 0. Immediately my frustration and embarrassment turned to anger. The game was already over and there was no reason to go for two points other than to humiliate someone.

I don’t cope well with that. Yes, I have been in situations where I was getting clobbered and couldn’t stop it. But I always tried. I was now on the losing end of a real “ass-whupping” which I deserved. But I’d be damned if they would humiliate us further.

Even though I was technically crippled that season, I was still fast and good at what I did. This team had avoided me most of the night. I was assigned their top receiver, man to man, all night long. He had a few catches and had racked up about 80 yards of offense. But he hadn’t scored on me and basically had been used as a decoy to keep me away from the real plays.

So when they came out of the huddle and sent the guy I was responsible for all the way to the sideline, I knew it was a decoy move. He lined up a yard from the sideline. They knew the logical move for me was to line up inside of him to take away all his routes. But in doing so, I would have turned my back on the play. Also, it would have left a HUGE gap between me and the next member of my team. So it seemed logical to me that they were trying to position me out of the play and create a gap for Lott to run through for the conversion.

My job was to stay with my man. I knew if I didn’t and they did throw to him, he would be all alone and I would get the ass chewing of a life time. But on that night, on that play, I didn’t care. I knew what they were thinking and I was going to create something positive.

As they lined up I took my position so they could see me. But I glanced back and the formation they were in was exactly what I expected; and Lott was smiling ear to ear. That was when I turned. As they got into their sets I slowly began to move in. By the time Lott was calling his signals I was full speed down the line of scrimmage. Lott never even bothered to look my way.

The ball was snapped and just as I figured, Lott broke to the side. The back and tight end took out our linebacker, leaving Lott with a clear path to the goal. He was just about to begin his celebration when I hit him from the side. I took him completely off of his feet and knocked his helmet to the other side of the field. He landed a yard short of the goal.

For a moment the stadium was silent. Then a load burst came from our fans as they realized, probably while walking out of the stadium, that Lott had been destroyed on the last play of that fateful game. Our team finally had something to celebrate, and we had the last laugh.

The next season Lott was in Oklahoma, but we remembered that night. In our rematch, and with seconds left on the clock, I caught a pass over the middle and ran 30 yards to our 12 yard line. We kicked the winning field goal seconds later, beating the previously undefeated team; and garnishing our payback in full. We had spent an entire year thinking about that game. We never lost another game that season and only lost two the next season, each by 2 points. We had established a fighting tradition.

So, that game was the worst loss I ever experienced. But it was the last loss of that magnitude I or my team would ever endure. I guess some good does come from your darkest moments. Don’t ever give up . . . . and trust me; revenge is a great motivator!