When I was growing up, not only was I bad at baseball, but football did not suit me well either. I was a two-sport athlete, except replace the word “athlete” with “guy with a jersey on and sort of just looking around, I guess.”

I was the Bo Jackson of bench warming, the Deion Sanders of passing the Gatorade bottle, the Drew Henson of finishing last in sprints.

While baseball brought its own crippling anxiety, football was another monster entirely. I knew how to play the sport, and I loved football growing up — I cared most about the New York Giants over any other sports team and some friends and family. But then I realized the entire game was based around violence. I don’t know if Will Smith told you guys yet, but it turns out football is bad for your health.

Yet every fall from eighth to 10th grade, despite my unrelenting anxiety and cankles, I rolled into practice, put my helmet on and watched my teammates go to work.

I rolled because I was fat, guys.

A lot could happen in a typical JV football practice, but here were some of the trends during my three-year run:

Losing Control of My Bowels

Depending on the day, this could range from a subtle yet constant fart stream for the duration of the afternoon, or an IV drip of pee that would sort of just linger like The Cranberries’ song, “Dreams.” When team sports were played, the lower half of my body decided to turn into an OK Go music video. In the fight or flight debate, I was on a 747.

Almost Never Participating in Any Drills

If practice makes perfect, then not practice makes not perfect. When it came to drills, I went out of my way to look like the most background guy available.

I didn’t want to do the drills because they involved hitting people. I did not want to hit people.

But if I happened to be called upon, I wasn’t too concerned because at least I’d be paired up with a kid who was as bad as me. I’m sure the starters always got a kick out of the puppet show happening in front of them before we moved on to something involving cones.

Imagery is Key

During the day, I wouldn’t really think about school because that sh*t’s for squares and the left. Instead, I would try to envision making the plays that my human body was incapable of making in real life. Rather than putting in extra work at practice or trying to get stronger and faster in the gym, I took the Yogism “the game is 90 percent mental and the other half is physical” to heart. You know how if you think about making a cake enough times, you eventually become the world’s best pastry chef?

Avoid the Hill

The hill was the worst. What was it? Well, it was an inclined plane of land that we would occasionally run on if: one, practice didn’t go as planned or two, the coach didn’t agree with a player’s tone of voice (note: the coach never agrees with the player’s tone.)

I distinctly remember one practice where the team was practicing kickoffs and one of the linemen on the field was talking back to our coach. I don’t know if he just didn’t get enough sleep or if he couldn’t beat “Through The Fire And Flames” on expert, but he wouldn’t stop. And, believe it or not, the coach was furious and the whole team went to the hill.

Looking back, I think my favorite part about running up the hill was the halfway point where your thighs felt like cement and you feel like you’re running in place, but that’s just me. The world would be a better place if after we did bad things, we had to run hills.

Get Out of the Way on Scout Team

At the end of most practices, there was time to simulate a game and run plays at full speed. We would do this for about half an hour, and I would always be on the defensive line of the opposing team — see “I was fat” section earlier in the column.

You would think defense was the worst part of the field, since it’s where most of the mauling and male grunt noises occur. But when you’re 15, it’s the best. You only have to spend about five seconds politely engaging the guy in front of you with your hands, and then the play is over.

I never wanted to be a linebacker or a safety — those guys actually had to make plays and run around. I was there to slow dance with the opposition. And if Train was playing in the background, it was even better.

Danny Cuneo is a senior television, radio and film major. He remembers most of his football days, but the CTE makes it harder to remember names and faces. He can be reached at dacuneo@syr.edu.

Published on March 21, 2016 at 8:15 pm