J.S. played guard. Well he started out as a tackle, but he ended up as a guard who played a little center. He wasn't very good. But he beat me out for playing time. In a mixed-up sort of way, he impeded my career as a freshman and as a senior.
J.S. was a rah-rah guy. Nobody on the team necessarily liked him. Nobody really respected him. But he talked a good game. He was always first in line for drills. He was always quick with a "Come on, guys," when practice wasn't going well. He would always volunteer to play another position if someone was hurt. The coaches liked him. By his senior year, even the coaches' affection had waned. But he was a rah-rah guy who always took advantage of any opportunity that arose.
During an off-week, he went camping. He came back with poison ivy all over his ass, legs, and stomach. He had poison ivy in places where no man should have poison ivy. He blamed it on an unwashed cabin mattress or bed spread. Then we found out that one of the female trainers had a severe case of poison ivy too. The story finally came out that he and the trainer had "explored nature" and were now paying for it.
I will always remember this story. But I will also remember that J.S. always found a way to get on the field.
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2 comments:
my only question is that if he and the trainer explored nature, then how the hell did he end up with it on his stomach?
ggm
That's a good question. Maybe I misremembered the stomach part, but I have some ideas of how it could happen.
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