End Zone

A fictional story about a former High School Football star who is on his death bed. He remembers his football career more than anything else. This chapter is based around his early career.

End-Zone

CHAPTER 1:

REMEMBERING

My name is Seth Lizer and I have a problem. I can't stop thinking, all I can do anymore is just remember, my childhood, my teenage years, athletics. Its debilitating, reflecting on my life has become my sole passion The problem is I can't regulate their flow, I feel like they have, rather miraculously found their own sort of chronology they follow. I guess I'm lucky, most people my age can't even remember the names of their families, I can remember my whole life almost, in such vivid details.

I can remember loving football since I was a baby, I liked all sports, and played most of them as I grew up, Football was always my favorite. I loved the shape of the ball, and way the players looked, marching onto the field, into battle, armed in pads that seemed to double their size.

I've always been an avid Penn State and Philadelphia Eagles fan, of course, then again I'm a fan of all Philadelphia teams, even the Union. Regardless of my choices as a sports fan, I'd rather talk about the greatest experience of my life, my senior season of football.

As I said, I've always loved football, more than any other sport that I’ve played or watched. Basketball and Volleyball are great and I love them too, and I'm game for Hockey or Soccer anytime. Bowling, Frisbee, Pool, Swimming, anything; I'll play it, and probably enjoy it too. Yet, compared to Football, any other sport just fell short trying to catch my attention.

I started football when I was 6, the year I entered first grade. I started off playing running back, and I had to compete with some kid named Greg Hathers, our friendship started from that competition, and never faltered. Eventually, my coaches noticed that I had one of the best arms of any kid on the junior team. So by the time I joined the B team (5-6) grade The Mountain West Jr. Patriots had the only B-team that could actually throw the ball. Greg became a rushing threat from then on and could always be counted on for a short pass. I suppose back then, when you're only 8 or so, playing with other kids that age, that’s the hardest anyone could ever hit. So watching Varsity football, College football, and especially professional football just seemed impossible

We did alright back then, and that’s where I met most of my team for the future, but there was always a game that had more meaning for us then any other. They were our rivals, probably just because they were the high-school team's rivals. Playing them introduced me to my biggest rival, Ryan Ferro. He was probably the only other kid that age who could throw a reliable pass. He had a fantastic supporting cast too. We tied them in the regular season that year, but lost to them in the finals. We always gave them the biggest challenge they would ever meet, but we could never beat them.

Growing up, I played a lot of sports, in the fall it was all football, winter I played basketball, and the spring was baseball and soccer. Summer I would play recreational sports, with friends and family. It wasn't until I hit middle school, 7^th grade actually that I settled to three sports, Football, Basketball, and Volleyball. I spent my summers getting ready for the season, the season. I never looked back, I never really looked forward either. I lifted and I ran, I got ready for my sports seasons the only way I knew how, I worked harder than anyone else.

My brother Matt, three years younger than me, always looked to me for something to strive for. Every sport I played I excelled at, and he wanted nothing more from life, than to be better than me. Everyone noticed that he was as good as me in sports, you know compared to me at his age, and in someways seemed better. I suppose, looking back, I was his rival, because sadly there weren’t many talented athletes around him growing up.

As I said earlier, I met most of my Varsity team through sports, and that's how I met Sarah. She was always in my classes, and she was always kind to everyone. She never missed an opportunity to lift someones spirits and make them feel good about themselves, no matter who they were. On top of that she was a stellar athlete herself, Volleyball, Basketball, and Track. She played summer softball too. I met her in school, but I really got to know her playing a co-ed Soccer league in 5^th grade. We were good friends from that day on.

Greg, the running back I mentioned before, he was no doubt the best friend I ever made. He was always a few inches shorter than myself, I was 6' 5” my senior year, he was 6' even. I may have been taller than him, but the kid could overpower me, and run circles around me, any day, anywhere. Our friendship was based around our desire to compete; that evolved in a sort of chemistry as teammates that probably gave us some of our success.

I guess while I'm mention Greg, I should introduce the third captain from that year, Tommy Ott. He was the definition of an imposing figure, 6' 8” 285lbs; the biggest, and strongest kid on out team. On the field he was the player any coach would want, off the field, he was 100% a model citizen. The kid had a heart of gold, and never acted like he was above anyone. He was respectful and kindhearted, everyone loved Tommy, teachers, kids, janitors, lunch ladies, even the hard a*s administrators.

I met Tommy playing youth football. 5^th grade, I was about 5' 0”, he was already 5 4"' , we were 10. We were playing against some real rough team, they couldn’t care less if they won, or they looked like scumbags, they would do anything to hurt a player. When I completed a 15 yard pass to a few plays into the first quarter, they made it their mission to assault me with their defense. For a whole half, I was on my a*s looking at the passing clouds. At 10 years old, I had never felt worse. When we got the ball back in the third quarter, one kid took it a little to far. I had already given the ball to Greg, who was running for the small hole that had opened in the line of scrimmage. He was going to break away for a sizable gain, when all of a sudden, around the side, their linebacker leveled me.

The pain was instant, I felt my whole body shake. I rolled for a little bit, tears welling up in my eyes. I saw the flag fly shoot out of the referees' hand, but that kid didn’t care, what was 15 yards when we were down a quarterback. He was walked off of the field, but I didn’t want to get up. I was so scared of being hurt, that I just laid there. Bad idea! My coach and my parents came sprinting onto the field, our whole crowd was on their feet. I heard my coach ask me if I was okay; I wanted to answer, but I was crying. I nodded my head, and he helped me up. We walked to our sideline and he sat me down on the bench. He got down to my eye level and looked at me. With a stern, yet concerned voice he asked “Does anything hurt kiddo? Arms, legs, you're head?” I was still in tears, but I muttered back, “No, nothing hurts, but, but..” I didn’t want to finish, I didn’t want to look like a coward. It was then that I had noticed that Greg had gone the distance that play, 30 yards for a touchdown. He ran right through where my assailant should had been covering. Coach declined the penalty, and we sent out the only extra point team in the league out. The kick of course was no good, but I really didn't care.

Greg came running over to see how I was doing. I assured him I was okay, and I told coach the same thing again as he walked past me. Right then though, Tommy came out of the small crowd of players watching our defense take over the game. He stood right in front of me, and apologized.

“I’m so so sorry Seth, I really really really am!”

“I know Tommy, it wasn’t your fault, I know that.”

“But, I shoulda been watching you better, that's my job ya know. I promise, they wont touch you again, and if that kid ever touches the football, he wont gain an inch!”

That little speech gave me every bit of confidence I needed. I stood up and looked Tommy right in the eyes, shook his head, and with every bit of tough guy voice my 9 year old body could muster I said to him,

“We're winning this game!”

We did, no problem. Our defense was as stiff as ever, and I threw a few more touchdown passes, with Greg running a few more back. 30-7. I'll always remember that game, I still use it to motivate me.