ALBANY VERSUS LOWELL
The field was hard, the refs were blind, and it was hot; really hot. We got there at four and started our warmups. After that the game started. The beginning was like every other game, save for how hard we hit the ground. First quarter ended. 8-0 Lowell.
Everyone had bruises but the pain was manageable. Second quarter was when the stuff went down. The refs were only calling penalties against Lowell. Every play Albany was offsides and they didn’t care. That’s when *it* happened. Our starting center, Anthony, got hit, and screamed. Play over. He holds his arm. We ask if he’s okay and he nods his head silently. We run three more plays until the coaches pull him out. He jogs off the field and he talks to the coaches then sadly walks over to the onsite doctor: he had broken his wrist. Season ender. Halftime. 16-0, Lowell.
We regroup, find a new center, study our plays, then get back out on the field and get ready for kickoff. If I’m being perfectly honest, I didn’t see what happened… but I could hear it. The ball was kicked, there was a loud thud, then screaming. We were getting used to it at this point. Our middle linebacker had broken his collarbone. Another casualty of the game.
We recovered the ball. Offense up. I walk up to the line, the play gets called, I run my motions to a tee. Our receiver has the ball and is booking it uphill. I see someone about to tackle him. I get right in front of him and stop dead. The other guy falls over me and I keep running. Then I get pushed from behind and stumble off the field. Whistle. Yellow flag. Touchdown void, blocking from behind on 72 (me). “Ain’t no way” I say as I walk up to the ref. Impolitely, I explain what happened. After all this the ref yells at me to get on the line and watch my language. I will admit this next bit wasn’t a very good idea but it’s what happened in the heat of the moment. When the ref told me to watch my language I retorted by yelling “watch the play” and lined up. Everyone was trying to calm me down, coaches included. But that one shitty call was the last straw. All the messed up calls, all our injured players. I was done. Hundred and ten percent right? Well, that ten percent needs to come from somewhere and we took it from the other team. We beat them so hard they wouldn’t get back up. It was getting funny. Until one guy didn’t get up and the refs called the coaches over. The player got back up, he wasn’t dead. But the other team didn’t have enough players to play eleven on eleven. So they forfeited. Lowell won 22-0.
Sometimes, it just be like that.
Excellent write-up! Get ’em, Lowell!
Nothing like a mad teenager.
I love it! I felt like I was right there: watching and hearing the game; sweating and hitting the ground. And yelling at the Ref, which may have been the best part of the story, even if not the best behavior.