When I accompanied my mother and my
brother to his practices for the Buckhead
Red Devils at Bagley Park, I pretended I needed to use the bleachers’
lowest levels to do my schoolwork, where I ensconced myself, turned
ever-so-slightly backward with my books on the riser above – but my ears clearly
attuned and attentive to the teaching of the assistant coaches, Mike
Meatheringham, and Candler Crim, and of course the incomparable Head Coach Robert "Bob" Blackwell. I had excellent hearing, and used it to learn
about the proper stances, where to focus, how to focus, attention to detail - - all kinds of
things - - hmmm - - no telling, I thought, when this info may come in handy,
and after all, I always wanted to be an offensive lineman (in a way I still do!!).
A few years later, I stood on the
edge of the bank of the practice field behind St. Pius X High School, watching
the very first practice of that school’s first football team. As I recall, I was partial to a freshman
running back named Steve Muma. If memory
serves, his # was 40. (Yes of course I went to all the games!)
Now a few days after that practice I
was in a tiny room which served as “the music room”. I had gone there immediately after classes because
I had heard a rumor that “…perhaps a band may
be formed…” No one was there when I first entered, but I spotted, over in the
corner, bell down, a brand-new shiny Sousaphone. Naturally, I quick-walked over there,
carrying all my textbooks and the spiral loose-leaf binder (no book bags or backpacks in
those days, y’all). Setting the books on
a chair, I hefted the instrument – not too heavy, I thought. Just then, a
Sister of Mercy appeared; I told her who I was, saying, I’m here to play your Sousaphone,
Sister! “Oh good! I was worried about that!”
(That was Sr. Mary Barbara, RSM.) Not
waiting for her to change her mind, I wrapped the ‘phone around me,
marching-band-style, picked up the books, and hurried out into the hall to call my
mom to come pick me up (no way was I going to take this big brass on the
school bus!) As I was threading my way through the back hallways, Coach
(George) Maloof came over saying, “Can I help you?” [I must have been quite the
sight!] “Yes Sir! Thank you Sir! Here,
Sir!” And I handed him my books! (No way was I going to let ANYbody touch that
Sousaphone.)
After only two years, I transferred
from St. Pius to North Fulton High School, just a few blocks from home. That third year of high school was quite
eventful in a number of ways, but I will touch only on the football-related ones
here: During the regular season, our
team was undefeated, untied, and unscored upon.
Quite a feat. I also enjoyed
watching the “B Team” games - - that’s what they were called then - - not JV -
- but especially that year. The
quarterback was remarkable. A junior, he
played on Friday nights as a defensive back, and only in a mop-up role
occasionally on offense. He never – ever
– started a game at QB in high school. I
remember coming home and tellin’ my mom that “the B-team QB is better than the
varsity guy”. She shrugged. Funny thing is that - - some years later, that
'B teamer' had spent a good # of years, quarterbacking, in the NFL, and also sported a
Super Bowl ring (as the qb coach!).
Sometimes people have asked me “how
can you watch those games?” (meaning high school games when the scores are way out of
hand) – Well, that is the way you can tell best when a youngster has the fire
and fortitude to keep going to learn the best to do the best to be the best - -
hmmm kinda hard to explain unless you’ve lived through thousands of hours and
and minutes of practice and game time and seen enough to recognize the purity of
the love of the game.
Reckon you may just have to be there.
