I've never decided if I actually miss playing football. I played outside linebacker and tight end for one season during my junior year of high school. The previous winter I had lifted weights pretty often for a middle school kid, then I took up track long jump in the spring and stayed in good shape all summer. I wasn't a complete beast, but for me it was a decent dedication. Our coach, Mr. Noble, was horrible. I respected him at the time, just like everyone else: he was six and a half years old and had some serious weapons. He would run a good workout with the assistant coaches for ten minutes every day while we walked the perimeter of the practice field, monotonous practice like copying down historical notes. We were in better shape than any other team in the county, but we couldn't play football worth licking. I started in a game or two toward the end of the season after the starting tight end, Mitch, broke his wrist, and before the second-string fullback, Eric, learned the position. Like all half-decent guys, I played on special teams every game. The problem was that I was terrible at blocking because I had no girth, and I couldn't catch very well because all we practiced was blocking. In games, we almost always ran the ball. Our fullback, Conor, kicked. He would have been even better if our coach didn't make him make stupid plays all the time. We would be fourth and eighth when we were 35, and Coach Noble - he made us call him "sir" all the time ("Yes, sir", "I don't understand, sir", "Sir, I have to leave early practice tomorrow, sir.") - would tell Hildebrand, the QB, to unleash a blast, an off-guard run up the middle. Conor would have been better too if the linemen, like myself, had talent and stamina. There's a photo in this season's yearbook that makes me feel like a loser every time I see it: Conor barreling through the line, and I'm standing with my knees bent and no one to block , my guy dives for the tackle. Man, I really handled it. Maybe things will change after I graduate, but sometimes I feel like I never deserved to continue playing, that I would never have been good enough to have real confidence in my abilities. But then I go to a Friday night college game and the stands are on their feet as the team charges onto the field under blazing lights against a solid black sky and I think, that could be me out there, jumping around , pulse racing, screaming..