A Field Full Of Reality
Athlete, the word often conjures up the image of a person, who is extraordinarily muscular, with next to no body fat. It can also be a person that possesses unbelievable agility, stamina and strength, able to move the heaviest boulders, even leap the tallest buildings. I am not that person, not that type of athlete. In fact my career as one is not what most consider successful. I have always enjoyed participating in athletics. My ability may not have always been equal to my enthusiasm for playing the particular sport, but one thing is for sure I always have tried my hardest.
My first desired sport was football. I was constantly trying to push myself even further being the smallest of the team. I studied our playbook several times to the point that after each break from a huddle I was re-directing first year players where to go and what to do.
On offensive plays where I played the running back position I would break through the seams provided by my offensive linesmen, but no matter how good I looked running the ball in for that touchdown or how many yards I gained for that first down, I didn't think that the amount of yards that I ran for was ever enough. I would run the wide receiver patterns, nevertheless most of the time my outstretched hands would not always end up with the ball in them. It always seemed that no matter how high I jumped to catch some of those passes they seemed to be traveling into outer-space. About the only thing I figured that I could do the best was run. I was short and small, so naturally I was fast. I would run to and from positions on the field, frustrated...