Jacked Up!

When I was 10 years old I was one of the biggest kids in my grade. My growth spurt ended up being short-lived, but for a brief time in my life I enjoyed having a size and strength advantage over other kids my age.

In addition to size, I was an overly aggressive kid and while playing with other kids in my neighborhood, in a normal way;  I was unintentionally hurting them.

After some parents began complaining about my behavior, my parents took me to our Doctor for consultation. Back in the day they were called "Family Doctors" and not "General Practioners" and they genuinely took an interest in their patient's well being. Insurance companies hadn't changed the face of health care yet...

Our Doctor's advice was simple. No personality altering drugs or therapy sessions, just "let him play football-" was all he said.

I went to the Ames Street Playground to watch the local Pop Warner team practice. The Red Devils displayed a camaraderie that I wanted to be part of. I began practicing the following day.

Being large for my age, I was put in a group of kids two years older than me. When they sent the 11 year olds to a separate area of the field to practice, my father motioned for me to stay with the 12 and 13 year olds. I initially lied about my age to remain in that group.

I became a second string lineman on the "A Squad" and with great  coaching and my father's help, I learned how to play the game of football.

My father always made sure I lined up against Larry, the biggest, toughest kid on the team at the time. He had crazy eyes, a chipped tooth and he hit hard.  Playing regularly against Larry was the equivalent of being broken in as a junkyard dog. Larry kicked the crap out of me and after hearing it from my father during one practice, I went nuts and began hitting Larry as hard as he was hitting me. The advantage was still with Larry, but I was becoming a violent football player who embraced contact and unbeknownst to me, that had been the desired outcome all along.

The following two years I established myself as a big hitter and when I'd lead with my head and knock someone on their backside, my Coach and my Dad reinforced my behavior with testosterone-filled cheers. I began to like being a head-hunting linebacker and enjoyed the accolades I was receiving for my vicious hits.

In 1969, during a Championship game, playing right tackle next to my best friend Scott at tight end, we were told to do whatever we had to in order to get the opponents defensive end out of the game. Together Scott and I went after this kid and eventually we rode him out of bounds and knocked him over a bench and out of the game.

After winning the championship we had one more game, an annual game against the Hawks of Long Island. We traveled to New York from Massachusetts and stayed in the homes of the opposing players. It was a competitive game, but for the most part it was an extra game and a fun time for all of us, parents too..

The night before the game, the Hawk's big guy approached me and told me he was going to "kick my ass"... It was a bold move and initially intimidating, but that led to a reaction that was not without consequences...

With my adrenaline screaming and my pride as a head-hunting middle linebacker on the line, I lined up on the opening kickoff across from him thinking "Let's get this done-". We kicked off to them and I ran hard down the field with only this kid in my sight... I hit him as hard as I had ever hit anyone and he went down hard and fast; I barely slowed and continued down the field. When the whistles blew and the play was over, I looked back to where the collision occurred and there he was, lifeless on the ground...

The coaches came onto the field, but the kid was unconscious. Play was halted and the crowd was silenced while a 60's finned Cadillac ambulance pulled onto the field and in a cloud of dust, amidst emergency lights and the sound of a siren, he was taken to the local emergency room. He did not return...

I had a great game, arguably one of my best, highlighted of course by knocking a kid out of the game. That evening both teams went to a hockey game where I was confronted by this kid. He admitted he shouldn't have threatened me before the game and I responded that I would have never hit him that hard if he hadn't...

Truth be told- football is a violent sport and I was a violent player. Any defensive player who says they're not out to hurt someone is probably lying. We were "jacking players up" long before Tom Jackson and the network jocks were hosting the weekly presentation of the  NFL's top ten most vicious hits on " Jacked-up!".

During the spring of my senior year in high school, I was approached by my good friend Carlos, an exchange student from Mexico where soccer was king. He wanted me to play on the spring soccer team...

Soccer was always the "other sport" for kids who didn't like contact or whose parents wouldn't let them play football. The football players referred to them as "pussies" and being identified as a football player carried a macho status soccer players never experienced...

I agreed to play the 16 game schedule. Most of the players on the team were my friends and this was the first time I'd be playing competitive soccer and participating in a sport with this group of kids.

The first thing I noticed was how accepting my teammates were of me and that I didn't miss the angry whistles that had chased me around the practice fields during seven football seasons. And, no one revved us up to be violent and I found out firsthand that soccer players were incredibly talented athletes. I had a great time and that experience had me second guessing my decision to strap on a Riddell helmet and play four years of high school football.

When I got to college in 1974  I naturally tried out for the freshman football team. A kid from Walpole who was Co-MVP  with me in the championship game in '69, was the halfback and after two weeks of practice, while in a three point stance in front of him, starting at fullback, it hit me- I no longer wanted to be chased around by angry whistles and prodded into being violent by loud, angry, wide-eyed, animated football coaches. I handed in my uniform before the season began...

In my 7+ years playing organized football I suffered one concussion that I know of. Thinking back, I took a lot of hits to my head and wearing the sub-standard helmets available in the late 60's early 70's, I probably suffered a lot of head trauma that I was unaware of. I don't blame the coaches for teaching us to lead with our heads as little was known then about brain damage and Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy. But, that has all changed. CTE is a well-known result of head trauma experienced in contact sports. The fact that the NFL had been doing all they can to prevent this discovery from changing their game and potentially slowing  their cash cow, is regrettable.

After seeing the movie "Concussion" I'm reconsidering just how much I want to support the National Football League. There are a lot of people dependent on the NFL for their living, but the lion's share stays in the hands of greedy owners and league administrators who care little about the players, their families, and the fans.

The NFL has become a powerful machine, capable of destroying lives and controlling outcomes. And when any corporation or institution has that kind of power, it can be a very dangerous situation...

If I had to do it all over again would I play football? Probably not, but at the same time I have fond memories of the game, my teammates, and the coaches who devoted their time trying to make me the best football player I could be.