I’m currently watching the Bears vs the Packers. GO BEARS. This reminds me of the time when I used to play football in grade school. Now when I say play, I mean watch. I had no business on the field. My family knew it. My coaches knew it. They let me sit on the sidelines. I was the best side-liner in town. It wasn’t always that way. I remember when I got my big debut. The chance to show everyone what I was made of. We were playing some team that had a running back that was bigger than everyone. You know. One of those kids who matured early so he just dominated. He was huge. Running everyone over. I remember the coach turning to me and saying, “you’re in.” In my head, I took it as, “Listen Snake, nobody else can do this. You’re our only hope.” When it actuality, it was more like “We don’t stand a chance. Get out there and get a few plays in before you die chum.” Seconds later I was in the middle of a dog pile. At the very bottom. One play later, I was at the bottom of another dog pile. Imagine a montage of me just being thrown on the ground and then giants jumping on top of me. Over and over to the sound of the hamster song.
Then it happened. The giant that was ruining everyone’s lives. He ran right at me. He blew past the defensive line and sprinted right at me. Like a Gallagher show, I exploded like a watermelon all over my team and family. If you’ve ever seen vampires die in True Blood than you know the kind of water balloon explosion I’m talking about. No, that didn’t happen. Funny image though. I braced for impact, but he started to turn a little and run past me. Within that millisecond of time, I watched as he was about to run off into the distance without anyone stopping him. I have to do something, anything, I thought. I decided to hitch a ride. I piggybacked on. This would lead to the nickname ‘Tex’, because it reminded my coach and team of a rodeo. Ironic. After we ran into the end-zone, I very politely thanked him for the ride, told him I had a great time, and walked home.