Heat Wave

On a scorching hot, sunny afternoon, the five-minute whistle blown by the head coach signaled to our worried team that football practice was about to begin. It was over one hundred and ten degrees outside and the entire football team was nervously shaking nervously shaking puddles of sweat just thinking of what was to come next. The hairs of each and every player singed in the unforgiving sun. Desperately migrating to water to cool off the skin, the water trough’s were constantly being used by almost everyone…. and some would drink Gatorade. As soon as the whistle blew my heart felt as if it had exploded inside my chest pads. Throwing my helmet on in the heat was like a cage around my head, in preparation for battle. Football was all about discipline. Deep down inside I knew that I would have to push my self as hard as I possibly could; my insides were twisting. Before we started practice, we had to run down to the football stadium and ran a timed mile on the athletic track with shorts and running shoes, helmets strapped of on our course. Teammates all around me resembled a team, both small and large, wearing bright orange helmets. Freshman and junior varsity wore yellow facemasks and varsity wore black facemasks. Running backs, Halfbacks, fullbacks, defensive backs, wide receivers, and quarterbacks had to place the fastest time. If one of these players did not make the cut of the set time—they were not allowed to play that position, period. I decided that day that I had the talent to play wide receiver and defensive back (cornerback). I remember being very worried that I was going to be so worn out if I gave it a hundred percent, I would be remorseful later. Nonetheless, I ran as hard as my body would allow me to. I passed the time with a little time to spare, but because I pushed myself so hard, I could feel my body starting to shut down on me. Running a timed mile in the blazing heat on the first day of practice made my head spin faster than the whistle spinning around one of my coach’s finger. I then realized more than ever that water was life. I had never wanted a single sip of a freezing ice-cold glass of water so badly in my entire years of living in the blazing desert. The feeling slowly started to set in that I was doomed because the water that I was drinking was not quenching my thirst whatsoever. I needed to switch my survival switch on and bear with the rising temperature. The feeling when you “feel like the day will never come to an end”. Well it was definitely one of those days, but a very precise day that tested and pushed my human strength far beyond my boundaries. Not only did it test mine alone, however, it tested the entire teams effort as a whole. If one person on the team made a mistake, including the kickers, had to pay and suffer for that mistake(s). It was beyond horrid, being on that practice field with nothing but the sun and a group of fierce coaches yelling and screaming from when school ended until it was too dark and late to practice. The running never stopped. In fact, the only time that anyone had a chance to take a break was if you were seeing an athletic trainer or when we were given water breaks; in which, the breaks felt as if they were only five seconds long. Barely enough to satisfy you mouth for a brief moment of replenishment and before we all knew it; we were on the grassy field, running, catching, tackling, and so forth. It felt as if as long as the day was moving along, the day was getting worse and worse. The constant yelling, punishments, and hardnosed discipline that every football coach desires would seem to never stop. Moreover, as each minute grew into a new drill or scrimmage everything became harder and harder. A variety of sets of brutal punishments enforced by the coaches included: up-downs, jumping jacks, and bear-crawls until puke was running out of mostly everyone’s facemask. For four years this is what I sacrificed for the glory on Friday nights. For all the times when my body failed me in practice, it allowed my body, mind, and soul to succeed when it most mattered.