"Dang, that was fast!"
This is what I said my first real Varsity play, and now looking back on my time playing what I have always called the greatest sport on earth, it is a fitting description. My playing days flew by, as I'm sure anyone else who played football in high school can attest. I suppose I'd just like to take my final blog to talk about some of my favorite memories I haven't shared yet.
Freshman Year -- Zane Trace game (JV)
It was a weird build up to that last JV game freshman year. While the Varsity would finish their season 5-5, we were looking for a 7-2 finish with an S.V.C. title share on the JV level. I had started at left guard the entirety of that year, but in our previous two games I had played just ten plays each. Injury had made it that I needed to play full-time on offense. That part was fun, but one specific plays make this game stick out in our mind.
The play occurred middle fourth quarter. We had a 20-14 lead when one of our nose guards twisted his ankle. I was practically the only available option, though I had only played four defensive plays all season. One of our OL/DL coaches pulled me aside and said:
"Now Andy, I need you to get low and grab ankles. Create a pile. DON'T try to be a hero, just grab ankles."
I went in and wound up in a weak-side one-technique due to their formation. But I ignored my coach's advice and shot the gap -- right into the running back, who was receiving a hand-off on iso. I drug him down for a one-yard loss.
I may have gotten a little too excited, because I chose what to do what would become my permanent big-play celebration, jumping up and slamming my fists into my thighs. Thus began the legacy of me being the most jacked player on the team (well, perhaps tied with my classmate Andrew Oyer).
We did lose that game, however, 22-20. The game-sealing tackle was made by my blocking assignment.
Sophomore Year -- First (real) Varsity Play
I was JV team captain sophomore year, but had only seen garbage time on the Varsity level until one night that I recall with a chuckle at Adena.
As a back-up, I was what our O-line coach called a "utility lineman." I could play four of the five positions. We never have subbed on the O-line, but I had been the sixth man the entirety of the second-half of the season. I finally got my shot early that night against the Warriors. Our left guard was tapping his helmet frantically, he had a chin strap issue.
"Andy, get in there!"
Now whatever made our coach decide to run the ball right behind me my first ever Varsity play I will never know. But I was confident, this was my opportunity.
And I capitalized. I blew my guy backwards. It seemed almost instantaneous that our running back was flying by me.
"Dang, that was fast!"
A flag came out towards the end of the play.
"Holding, number ten, offense."
Now my number was and is fifty-five, and when I watched the film, ten was the person who held. But who was our coach going to blame it on? The first-play-of-Varsity sophomore or the senior team captain?
It was of course me who got the heat in the film room the next day.
Junior Year -- There went the nerves
It had been an absolute battle to win a two-way starting job junior year. I had gone through a position switch during two-a-days, only to be moved back to guard after a botched snap at center on a fourth down play our final scrimmage. I had only barely beaten out the Sophomore on my tail, in part due to him missing a week with the flu. So when the defense took the field with me at nose guard, I felt a good deal of pressure to prove my worth. I beat a cut block and got in on a TFL.
This loosened me up not only for that game, but the rest of the season. I would start nine of our ten games at right guard (I missed one game with a concussion) and five of ten at nose guard. I also had three pancakes on offense (I came out on defense after the first quarter with two tackles).
Senior Year -- Banquet, Four Plates
There are two off-season memories from after Junior Year. First, I was awarded the Sherman award after the season for being the player who "bleeds purple and gold." It was a tremendous honor, and a very shiny trophy I still have.
Now in spite of my tremendous appetite, four plates has nothing to do with food. We do three-rep maxes in our weight room. I had been lifting both with the team and on my own to try and get the maximum muscle mass for the upcoming season. My previous max had been 365 on squat.
At the end of our eight-week cycle, max-out day came around again. We got three attempts to get as much weight as we could. Knowing I had improved significantly, I began at 385. I got it easy (okay, maybe a little grunting on rep three).
So I had a choice to make. I knew I could probably get 405 and then go for 415 (the all-heralded four plates), but if I tried that strategy, I would wear myself out a bit and have less chance at getting the four plates. The risk, of course, being that if I failed on 415, it would be hard to get 405. So I thought, well, already have the best squat on the team, might as well sellout for the milestone.
The guys I was maxing with put on 405 and failed, it was their final attempts. Everyone else in the weight room had finished at this point. Other people put on the rest of the weight. I took a deep breath and tightened my lifting belt as the whole team turned their attention to me. My three spotters got in position.
I did my two-wrist turn preparation and ducked under the bar, setting it right behind the top vertebrae of my back. I pressed upward. The bar bent on my back as I lifted it from the rack, it was unsettling, but strangely comfortable.
I set my feet a bit wider that shoulder with, toes straight ahead, looking towards the sky. I bent my knees and went straight into the squat. I hit the box (set past parallel) and flexed my legs to get right back upright. The first rep is always the hardest. The weight room was shouting many encouragements.
I went immediately for the second rep, and got it with relative ease.
It was probably very loud in that room, but I was now in full focus mode. This had been a goal for awhile now. I bent down, touched the box, and yelled on the way back up, fighting the weight that rested on my back.
"RAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!"
I was standing straight up before I knew it. I racked the weight, did my aforementioned celebration, and was greeted with a slew of high fives and comments of general amazement.
My try for 425 wasn't nearly as glorious, to say the least.
Senior Year -- Senior Night Statement
Last game at home. Gotta make a play. Gotta have one play to remember this game by, something I do.
I looked into the backfield, speculated on the potential call of the offense.
Alright, that number 70 has been killing us (the guy was 270 pounds) third and eighteen though, probably going to be a pass. Let's shoot the gap and go for a sack.
Snap of the ball, I got a great jump. My guard pulled, so I got on his hip and saw that it was a draw play. Number seventy got the ball. I got as much speed as I could in two steps and nailed him in the backfield. I would get a helmet sticker for a train wreck at our next practice, to give you an idea of how well my coach liked the hit.
The crowd went wild, of course. The play is featured as the last one on my highlights.
If I must say words in parting, it is that I will carry these memories with me throughout my life. Football has taught me so many lessons. Now I must move on and attack life like I attacked it.
P.S. - Thank you, as always, for reading my final blog. I would love to hear a favorite of yours if you have one, but any comment is much appreciated. Feel free to ask me any questions you may have. My last highlights to share with you guys is of my entire senior year:
