Sam Parker, a fifth-year center from Harrison, Nebraska, will offer his unique perspective of the Chadron State College football team throughout the season.Nov. 24, 2014This is my final blog …
Every senior wants to finish his career at home. There is something special and comforting about home that makes the experience top notch. That being said, finishing our season at one of the most beautiful parts of the country has to be a close second to ending it all at Elliott Field.
Durango, Colorado, is one of the most majestic places I have been able to see in person. It’s a 12-hour drive and it’s often cold, but it’s worth every mile. Some of you may disagree, but please don’t pass judgment until you see for yourself the football stadium perched on the heights above the town and surrounded by the snow-capped Rocky Mountains. On Saturday the place was exceptional. Durango was damp with fog and rain until noon when the clouds parted and we were blessed with warm sunshine making a cold day more cheerful. The light warmed the field while the mountains in the distance, caked in an approaching front of fog and snow, gave us a reminder of a coming storm, not to mention a spectacular view. That view is just one of the many views I hope to remember from last weekend, and photographs will help me do so.
Picture this: Friday evening, nine oversized men and three coaches piled into Lance Pickett’s and my hotel room for our O-line meeting. The large amount of huge men made the room feel tiny—more like a walk-in closet than a bedroom. I sat on the back corner of my bed next to Daniel Sotelo and Mike Lorenzo as we listened intently to Coach Long during our last meeting of the season—for three of us, the last of our careers. The rest of the offensive linemen sat sprawled on Lance’s bed, chairs, the floor, and anything that looked comfortable and wasn’t covered with clothes and football gear. Coach Long stood in the middle of the room as he gave some pregame reminders for us to focus on. We discussed the quiz that he handed out Thursday morning before we departed. He then gave a few pointers on technique, and finished, as always, with encouraging words. He has often instilled confidence in me with only a few words. It means the world for any player to hear his coach say he believes in him. After he finished the business side of the meeting, he thanked the seniors again for our commitment to the program, a common theme over the past couple weeks.
As I leaned against the headboard of my bed, I tried to take it all in. Friday night meetings have always been my most memorable time on any road trip and last Friday was no exception. I was kicking myself for not asking Coach Ratcliff to take a few photos while our line listened to coach for the last time. I wanted to remember that meeting a long time, but I guess I’ll have to rely on memory for that one.
We have several meetings on Fridays covering our positions, offense, defense and special teams. Each word spoken was one that I hoped to hold onto. If possible I would have recorded Coach Stein telling our offense that he loved us and believed in us. At the special teams meeting that night, Coach Jersild again gave me chills during his talk when he set us to thinking about our roles and our effort as he let us in on his secret to living life. Each of our coaches have a fire to succeed that they want to share with us each day. I hope to someday have that same passion for the life I live that our coaches have for our team. It’s just another thing I hope to remember.
Later in the evening, Lance and I got one more chance to share milk, cookies, and bananas on our bedside. Milk, cookies and bananas the night before a road game are a tradition of our team that linemen like most. Every Friday night, we would ask for whole milk, (2% is for skinny guys, a.k.a. skilled positions) and did all we could to get a few extra packages of cookies. Since it was our last night, Coach Doran hooked us up with a few extra that you can see in the photo below.
We never ask for extra bananas partly because we don’t want to eat too many healthy snacks and partly because Coach Long, who is in charge of banana detail, always hands us about eight. I think he is trying to improve our health. Sorry Coach Long, we never eat them all. They make for good laughs though. In all seriousness, for those who appreciate the little things, getting to sit across from a good friend and talk about life while munching on cookies dunked in milk is a part of football I will dearly miss.
The next morning, after a good rest and a filling pregame breakfast, I always have to make a stop at Don Watt’s hotel room to get treatment and taped before we leave for the game. Don is our head athletic trainer, proud grandfather, and self-proclaimed salsa expert. He has held many of my teammates and myself together with his knowledge and skill in the treatment of injuries. He is a friendly face that we’ve all come to love. We like to give Don grief at times, but after all has been said and done, we all appreciate and respect him. I wouldn’t have been able to finish the year without him. Saturday was no exception to the quality of his athletic training skills. He put some sort of magic in tape form on my foot that helped me play through one last game. I’ve had great and hilarious conversations with him and his staff. They make one more part of the experience here worth remembering.
The game was another roller coaster that tested our team’s mental toughness. I was proud of my teammates. There are so many whom I respect for their steadfastness through challenging times: Danny O’Boyle, Jonn McLain, Lane Haller. Guys like them hold teams together.
When you have one final chance to put on your jersey, only one thing goes through your mind: “Make this day your best.” Lay it all on the line until the end. I’d like to say I played well but frankly isn’t the truth. More importantly, however, I was reminded that football is a team game and my teammates are exceptional. We carry each other. They definitely helped carry me and I’m so thankful we won. That meant much more than any individual performance.
The game came to a close and it felt like déjà vu. I thought to myself: “Didn’t we go through all this hugging and crying a week ago?”
Yes we had, but now we were finally done. Many emotions were expressed on the field. I saw Zach Sandstrom in tears after fighting the entire game with an ankle injury. It wasn’t his plan to struggle through his last games with injuries, but he finished strong. I have great respect for that man.
Others were joyful to see family and friends one last time on the field. Loved ones surrounded us as they gave us hugs, gifts and one more opportunity for a memorable photo. We walked around to our teammates and coaches and hugged them and thanked them for everything. There were a lot of tears but a lot more joy.
I didn’t cry Saturday, and I didn’t cry the week before during Senior Day either. Everyone handles the end differently, which is totally fine. I saw many of my teammates show emotion and I thought for a minute that something was wrong with me. “I should be sad too.” I should be crying. I couldn’t. All that welled up in me was overwhelming gratitude and a sense of accomplishment. I felt the mountain of college football we had climbed for over four years was finally conquered. We reached the summit. All the time and sweat we invested led us to this day, to finally say that we finished. We finished with a win making it that much more special. And I can’t think of a more appropriate place to finish than in those mountains at Durango.
Selected Highlights from the 2014 Season:
Best Dressed: Alex Ferdinand, Patrick O’Boyle and Zach Sandstrom. They are all enrolled in teaching block this semester and definitely wowed our team each day with their fresh polos and khakis.
Biggest Arms: Hands down Mike Lorenzo has the largest arms on the team. He isn’t afraid to tell you that either (love you Mike).
Best Freshman Prank: At the beginning of the season, we wrote on the locker room marker board, “Jake Geil, Coach Long wants to see you. Bring playbook and gear.” Rumor is he was scared to death as he walked into Coach Long’s office. Needless to say, Jake is still on the team and hopefully he knows how much we really care about him. Don’t worry too much, Jake. The same thing happened to me five years ago.
Best Teammate: Patrick O’Boyle. He has the respect of the entire team. He’s a great leader and unselfish. Plus, he’s the only guy I know who started on offense, defense and special teams in one game.
Funniest Teammate: It’s a tie between Zach Sandstrom and Michael Madkins.
Toughest Teammate: Lane Haller. I heard he eats nails for breakfast.
Best Hair: Chris Conroy, hands down.
Friendliest Teammate: Antonio Thompson
Most Likely to Succeed: Jonn McLain because he already has a job. Go Cards!
Outstanding Quotes:"I just ate four quesaritos [from Taco Bell]. It’s going to be a long night.” Lance Pickett on our way home from Durango, Colorado.
“I tell you what, I thought an eagle was just a bird. I was wrong.” Jonn McLain (Jon Gruden impersonation).
To close, I’d like to say a special thank you to Alex Helmbrecht for editing the blogs throughout the season. He has a special knack for cleaning up my writing. You’re the best Alex. Thank you for everything you do.
Finally, I must thank my parents and family for their support. You all made this year a memorable one.
Nov. 12, 2014Earlier this week I was on my way to weekly O-line meeting and I parked my 1997 Dodge Caravan in the parking lot in front of the entrance to the new Chicoine Events Center.
I walked down the recently poured concrete steps that descended toward the sidewalk leading to the side entrance of the old Armstrong building. To my right was the Events Center – fresh, clean, and still awaiting the finishing touches of sod to help it settle in. To my left, was Elliott Field. It was green a few days earlier but now it was covered with a sheet of white snow. The stadium overlooking the field was empty, dull in the overcast light, and dusted with a reminder: Winter is near.
Just days before, the sun shone down on the stadium and it was filled with family, friends, alumni, and community members for our final home game. The more I looked around, the more I began to remember and ponder as I descended those steps in the cold.
Elliott Field has meant a lot to my teammates and me. No, it’s not the university’s stadium, but it is home. It sits nestled in our campus surrounded by the brick buildings that I’ve come to love (I’ve never had much admiration for modern looking buildings). The steel and fiberglass bleachers can’t seat more than few thousand folks. In fact, many guys on our team played in larger stadiums during their high school careers.
The field isn’t fancy field turf, but natural grass with a few bumps and sweeping low spots that make it one of a kind. The direction of the field is itself unique as it runs east to west—an oddity compared to a typical field that runs north and south to keep the sun from affecting gameplay. We play on it at noon or 1 p.m. during special weekends like homecoming not because we want to get the game over early, but because our stadium has no lights. And, instead of a large replay screen or digital scoreboard, we have our scoreboard—slightly older and much less digital. Some may observe Elliott Field and think poorly of it, but we don’t because it’s ours.
The field gets prepared in a unique way. Days before a game, our football coaches paint every line, number, and the logo with expertise. Apparently when you become a coach at CSC you hone artistic skills, too. The field painter hums as it rolls up and down covering each line. Classic rock blasts from the loud speakers and echoes off the buildings causing students to turn their heads in confusion as they walk to class. Football players don’t need to inquire about the noise, though. They know the field is getting ready. And when it’s done, it’s the most beautiful football field any of us have ever seen.
I walked through the snow and thought about Elliott Field’s atmosphere and the intense emotion that builds every time our team takes the field arm in arm. As we step onto the grass, the song “Bad Company” plays over the speakers and excitement builds and builds with each step we take together. At times like those, individuality is lost as the tightly knit bond of a team is displayed. Concerns and fears prior to that point are a shadow and confidence becomes like granite in the mind. I can’t force that feeling out of me and I don’t know if I will ever feel that again while playing sports after my time here is over.
We’ve shared good times and difficult memories on that field. The cannon has fired time and again to put the icing on the cake of every touchdown. We’ve seen marker boards get broken, punched, and slammed into the ground on the sidelines by frustrated coaches. We’ve exchanged encouraging words and looks between our teammates and we’ve all circled up on the Eagle after a victory to count the number of points we’ve put into the record books.
“What was unique about Saturday?” asked Alex Helmbrecht during a conversation Monday. He has so graciously been the editor of my blogs over the past weeks and was trying to give me some tips to provoke thought.
What was unique about Saturday? What was memorable?
Actually, many things on Saturday were normal, but to me they seemed special. I appreciated them more because I frankly would not experience that day again. We slapped high fives to the children as they lined up in the east end zone. We took the field with pride and ambition with the sound of “Bad Company” playing in the air.
Our team experienced highs and lows throughout the game. We felt the roar of the crowd rising like a wave behind us as the defense finished the game on a splendid note. Yes, that scoreboard is old but it still proclaimed our victory when time expired. We counted the points we scored on the 50-yard line jubilantly, and we shared joy and tears with our families and friends after the game as they came down to the turf to meet us.
On second thought, I think the most unique thing about that day was it was my last one at Elliott. I am confident in saying I will never remember another one so fondly.
Nov. 5, 2014Sunday evening I hung out with my friends as I typically do. We relaxed on an array of mismatched couches that characterize the typical living room of a college-aged male (our mindset is the more seats the better). The TV was on but it wasn’t much more than background noise. Zach Sandstrom passed a bowl of Chex mix his fiancé had made and we munched and reflected. My friends and I – the majority of us are seniors – were remembering and sharing a few of the experiences that have brought us to this point.
The Friday before the final home game each senior will stand up in front of his teammates and talk about his experience. There is no censor. No one else is in the room except the coaches, a small group of us older guys on our way out and the team. We will sit in a long row facing the team. The backs of our seats will be covered by the jersey we’ve worn through the years. One by one, numerically, each of us will share our story.
“Have you thought about what you are going to say on Friday?” This question came up to each one of us in the house on Sunday. Some of us had and some hadn’t. It’s difficult to squeeze more than four years of your life into a few minutes’ worth of words.
We also remembered some of the more memorable talks that impacted us. Last season, Tyler McFarland urged us to remember that sports are meant to be fun and we should enjoy the time we have. His words especially struck me. Tyler was the ultimate team guy. One who worked harder than any athlete I’ve seen. He didn’t have the career that a newspaper would record. You can’t measure his impact with stats, but his career definitely left a mark on his team.
A couple of guys remembered the emotional speech Jacob Finerty gave our true freshman year. He had lost his brother and testified to the impact that loving coaches and teammates can have during the hardest times. He was a shining example of how tight a bond of a team can be.
What will we say on Friday evening? Each of has been through so much together, we’ve been impacted by those before us, and yet we all have had different experiences. Some of us never started a game while others set records. Some of us should have been in those seats speaking to our teammates a year ago, but injuries held us back. Some of us transferred from other schools and were adopted in and are now respected members of the team. Others sacrificed their own goals and changed positions to make the team better, a selfless choice. Some are vocal leaders whom I’ve been proud to look to for encouragement. Others took a different role and did their jobs every day, no complaining, no excuses. They led by example, one of the most respectable traits.
We’ve all been impacted by coaches who pushed us to be our best and teammates who encouraged us to stick it out. We’ve learned responsibility, growing from adversity, teamwork, and honesty (a few minutes in the film room will teach you not to lie). We stayed together through coaching changes. We supported each other with the loss of loved ones. We all have a lot to be thankful for.
I do not know how each of us will respond on Friday. Through the laughs and the tears, though, I know each of us will at least say this: We did it. We finished. So many were with us years ago and they are gone but we are here. We wore the Eagle each day to the end and will remember it the rest of our lives. I’m proud to finish something that started over four years ago. I know my teammates are, too.
Oct. 29, 2014On the road again…
This Willie Nelson classic always seems to pop into my head every time we roll down 10th Street toward the mountains.
One of the things we come to expect in the RMAC football season is enjoying the inside of a bus for long periods of time. This week we get to take one of the longer trips of the year as we travel down to Las Vegas, New Mexico, to take on New Mexico Highlands University.
Here a few things you can expect to occur on this particular trip that will give you an idea of how we travel.
The journey will begin at about 10 a.m. Thursday. This means that shoulder pads, probably still sweaty from a practice a few hours before, will be stuffed in a bag to marinate. The smell always gives us a nice surprise when we arrive at the hotel a dozen hours later.
We take two buses. The front bus is for the full-time coaching staff. Behind them is a little more than half of the team. Each player who boarded that bus for our first trip will sit on that bus for the entire season—most of the time in the exact same seat (one of our many types of superstitions we hold to just to keep the mojo). This bus is usually the nicer of the two.
The back bus (usually older) is filled with coaching assistants, media personnel, athletic trainers, and the rest of the team. The back bus is run by the benevolent dictator Don Watt who is known for bringing delicious homemade salsa (which, he rarely shares) and showing below quality action movies. The O-line sits in the back of this bus. Daniel Sotelo is in the farthest back seat, Mike Lorenzo is front of him, and I am in front of Mike. In front of me is Darrien Oliver, Anthony Valdez, and Palmer White. Lance Pickett always sits across from me. We never change seats.
Speaking of movies, you will never see a comedy while traveling to a game. Only on the way home will we watch them. It’s a simple reminder of the seriousness of the trip (we aren’t going to the zoo).
In similar fashion, no excessive noise is allowed on either bus. Usually underclassmen get a rude awakening from an “older guy” or coach if they choose to speak above the expected tone.
We will partake in at least one all-you-can-eat buffet on the trip down—possibly two. You never wear your hat in the building. You always say “please” and “thank you.” Seniors always eat first. Expect to receive several stares from the locals and at least one question, “So where is Chadron?” which they always pronounce with a “ch” sound.
The kings of Snapchat show up on road trips. A few years back, Twitter was popular on the bus, but now Snapchat has taken over. Anthony Valdez and Mike Madkins are just a couple of the many who use this to pass the time. If you take a nap it’s almost a guarantee that a picture of your drooling face is now floating around the Internet.
During the trip Jonn McLain and coach Joe McLain will crawl over the tangle of legs and torsos extending into the center aisle to take bathroom breaks about 25 times each. I think having small bladders is a genetic thing for McLains. Jonn agreed to use the bathroom as his actual seat for this trip to prevent the inconvenience. Thanks, Jonn.
The temperature on the bus is almost always bipolar. The front is frigid, forcing everyone to put extra layers on. The back of the bus, however, is more like a tropical jungle. Did I mention earlier that the largest and sweatiest guys ride in the back? OK it’s not that bad but after 7-8 hours, even the mildest conditions become “unbearable.” At least one guy will be shirtless and sprawled out below an air vent after a few hours.
Over time the bus will begin to develop its own funk. The smell is a mixture between body odor and the inside of a port-a-potty that hasn’t been overused yet. It’s not the most pleasant smell, but it sure beats walking.
Many of us pass the time doing homework, sleeping, playing games, listening to music, or reading. I like to read when I can. My buddy Lance is currently addicted to a computer farming game that he plays the entire trip. Lane Haller is definitely a sleeper. Mike Lorenzo prefers to horde food and then eat it — he’s a big snack guy.
We will arrive at the hotel early Friday morning after a handful of stops, a half-dozen movies, and memories that, at the time, I think I will overlook someday.
About 15 minutes after we arrive, the bus will be emptied and all of us will pile into our rooms with bags in tow. I immediately open the travel bag that holds my marinated shoulder pads. It’s a refreshing odor. Well not really, but at least it’s a different one than the B.O. and port-a-potty funk that I’ve smelled for the previous 12 hours.
Lance, my roommate, turns the AC down as low as possible and we relax and talk, sometimes watching TV, as we unwind from the long trip.
Trips like this, often overlooked, are some of the little things I hope to remember as the years go on. I hope to remember how many friendships I have been able to build while riding the bus over the mountain passes of Colorado and through the aridness of New Mexico. Ten years from now, the funky bus and the cramped seats will be just a shadow and in some way I will appreciate them. Those memories are nothing though, if we don’t give it our all on game day.
I hope to remember what I learned on those trips. 1. You should take your job seriously. We’ve been given too much to treat our job like a vacation. 2. Our number one goal is not creating memories on the bus. Our goal is to win on Saturday.
Oct. 23, 2014Weeks like this it seems difficult to write about the sport I love. Often I reflect on the sweeter side of sports in my blogs: Winning, hard work and success. After suffering a loss last weekend, though, it seems impossible to go back at it and continue the “rah-rah” type blog that focuses on all the memorable and glamorous times.
No one in my senior class has beaten Pueblo. We fought to the end many times and should have been victorious, but we could never end on top.
And, oh how we wanted to defeat them each time we stepped on the field. They’re the rising star in our conference. The team with the upgraded facilities, highly recruited athletes, and an on-the-field smack talk that they back up with conference championship rings. Oh how bad we wanted to cut them down. We’re the smaller school, the over-looked athletes, and the blue-collar football style that lets our performance do the talking.
Sometimes you want something so bad that you squeeze it too tight until it slips from your own hands. That was how Coach McLain described our struggle Saturday to me as we talked outside a truck stop in Cheyenne, Wyoming, on the way home from our bitter loss.
It’s hard to not let the tough times define you when you are at a low point. The people outside of your team want to label you and define you in a handful of words. They say you’re the team that couldn’t get it done. The team that missed it, and missed out.
You can’t control how people will define you. You can only control the way you play and the way you approach playing the game. After a tough loss, two roads lie before each of us—give in and lose faith in yourself and your abilities or press on until the end no matter the circumstances, never doubting, never wavering.
How will we respond?
In times like these, it is good to remember the ones who didn’t give in. One of my teammates in 2013, Nathan Ross, was an extremely talented and driven competitor. He was one of the most hardworking and confident teammates I will ever know. To give an example, in the offseason, there was hardly a day that he wouldn’t be found in the weight room or on the field improving. During practice, the man was so locked in that he rarely drank water. His entire senior year, Coach Stein questioned him continually about his play. He challenged his effort and pushed him to be his best. This motivation came usually in the form of embarrassing confrontations in the film room on Sundays. Never once, though, did I see Nate’s body language surrender, nor did his confidence fail. Nate refused to let his mistakes control and defeat him. He had faith in his abilities. He overcame and grew from his mistakes.
Our team is full of guys like Nate. No, we don’t have all have his hilarious personality or his off-the-cuff dance moves (though Michael Madkins and Mike Lorenzo are improving weekly), but we all take things from guys like him that make us better teammates, workers, friends, and football players.
I will never see Dylan Furrier, Zach Sandstrom, Dillon Breinig, Lane Haller, and Isaac Holscher crushed under the expectations Coach Larson puts on them.
I will never see Jonn McLain, Mike Lorenzo, Pat or Danny O’Boyle doubt themselves, or lose faith after a tough loss or failure.
They’ve all made mistakes, they’ve all suffered loss, but they refuse to let mistakes define how they play the game. They don’t quit, they move on.
Behind those few are dozens of Eagles who look to them and stand with them. Eagles who remember the “Nates” and are encouraged to continue the fight and not lose faith.
How are we going to define our season? I can’t predict the future but I know Eagles will never give up.
Oct. 15, 2014Every day the expectation for an athlete to perform hangs ominously like a cloud over every repetition, practice and game. This pressure is not found in a classroom (though I know a different kind of pressure is involved there). Not even most workplaces are so closely critiqued by employers to create a comparable environment to that of the playing field.
Pressure in sports can be more dangerous than the toughest opponent. It can eat at you in the form of fear, doubt and a lack of focus. Athletes subconsciously battle in their minds for the confidence to not succumb to pressure and to complete whatever task is expected of them. Pressure can cause people to second guess themselves. Athletes make mistakes when they doubt. They can’t complete their task as instructed when they fear failure.
Fear and doubt whisper criticism. “You didn’t work hard enough this summer.” “You didn’t prepare enough.” “You’re not good enough, big enough, strong enough.” “That receiver is too fast.” “That linebacker is too strong.” “That quarterback is too decisive.” “If you fail, everyone will know.” “You will let your team down.”
When game day hits, all the pressure is magnified by the expectation to perform at your highest level. Your coaches teach you to do your job. Your teammates are relying on you. Every play you must make a choice: You can fall to the pressure and fail or you can rise and allow courage to take over.
How do you respond? How will you act when the game is on the line?
No one can answer that question for you. You must decide for yourself. I do know that successful athletes perform their best because successful athletes kill those fears first. They say, “he may be stronger, but my technique will be better.” “He may be healthier, but I know I will give more effort.” “They have a good scheme, but I will be more adaptable.”
Personally, I look to my teammates for encouragement. Teammates trust the courageous ones because they’ve seen them perform in the past. Courageous players realize the talents they’ve been given and refuse to take them for granted. The coach will look the courageous players in the eyes and tell them he believes in them.
I heard Michael Madkins say once that pressure only affects people who are scared. Pressure only hurts people who doubt.
Well, I’ve looked at my teammates in their eyes for five years. I know we’re not scared. And, I know we’ll leave no doubt.
Oct. 9, 2014When the pregame preparation is complete on Saturdays, our team piles back into the locker room one last time before we take the field. We sit in silence strapping pads and tightening glove straps. Some glare at the walls or the floor. Others look confidently at one another with a quiet nod or a whisper of encouragement. There is something memorable about a setting like this. No, it’s not the poorly ventilated locker room or the hard wooden lockers and plastic chairs or the dingy grey carpet. It’s an experience that few people get to call their own – a team.
One of the great things about organized sports is the opportunity to be one part of a collective body. Young men from all walks of life come together for something bigger than any one individual. An intricate bond is molded between a team through years of hardships and victories, highs and lows, spring practices and fall camp conditioning tests, fights, celebrations, sorrows, bus rides, Thursday morning practices and much more.
I’ve been blessed with great teammates for the last five years. We respect one another. We encourage one another. We are accountable to one another. Guys like Austen Stevens, Andrew Rios, Daniel Sotelo, Cole Montgomery, Antonio Thompson and Danny O’Boyle are just a few great examples of teammates who set a standard of excellence with their work ethics and practice habits. One man or a group of men set the standard and then the job falls to the remainder of the team to raise that bar. We have the chance to turn excellence into an expectation.
Teammates are more than just on the field acquaintances. They are friends, best friends, and lifelong friends. Guys who you have good times with. Friends to talk with long hours about family problems, school, girls, and life choices. You live with your teammates. You do everything with your teammates. You close down China House with your teammates. No one is a loner unless they choose to be.
The silence in the locker room is broken when the doors swing open as the coaches enter to give us a few reminders for the game. Reminders complete, we take a knee and each in his own way prays. I thank the Lord for the opportunity. I thank him for the ones I get to link arms with on a Saturday morning – my teammates, my friends. We rise up as one. Coach Long gives the final break. The sound of snapping and popping, like kids crumpling up sheets of bubble wrap, fills the room and hallways as we strap our helmets. The final step implies, “No turning back. Forward! Forward together.” We’re no longer the high school standout or that one kid from Colorado, South Dakota, the West Coast, Wyoming or Nebraska.
There are no individuals in that room. Just Eagles.
Oct. 2, 2014Distractions are inevitable. They’re contemporary and cumbersome. They trip us up and can keep us down. Some distractions are necessary, though. I would even go as far to say they’re good. Others are nothing but trouble.
My freshman year, classes were a distraction for me (or so I thought). I entered college majoring in football. I selected the “easiest” major I could think of hoping to breeze by and focus on my football life. I didn’t understand the importance of my degree and I took for granted the privilege that sports had given me to obtain that degree. Classes were a nuisance to me (or so I thought). It took about two semesters before I got serious. No, I didn’t stop caring about football, but I did get my priorities straight about my education.
Last Saturday, with about three minutes left in the game, our team had to deal with a distracting rain delay that set us back almost 40 minutes from raising our hands in victory. We had every part of that game going in our favor. We were driving our offense down the field. We were up by 11 points. The rain made running the ball a necessity for us, and we were running the ball well. But, it’s amazing how 30 minutes in a locker room can damper your spirits and set your mind thinking about all the things that are going wrong.
This Saturday, for our team it’s easy to think of Homecoming more as a distraction than a blessing. Homecoming means broken routines, parades, pep rallies and longer halftimes. It’s often in times like these that our minds can focus more on the distractions than on the task at hand.
Distractions are inevitable. You cannot make them go away. You have to handle them. Education is a necessary distraction for athletes. Education is the vehicle to play college sports. Education gets athletes a step ahead on a future career. If you don’t focus, then you are dead in the water.
Another good distraction is the homecoming festivities. It’s a great opportunity to unite the college around one event, and it also honors former Eagles who attended CSC.
The bottom line is that no matter the distraction, whether good or bad, it isn’t going to go away. The good distractions, you appreciate. The negative distractions, you overcome. It’s all about perspective. And it’s a lot easier to look ahead than it is to look behind.
Sept. 23, 2014Sports in many ways are a parable of life. The challenges athletes face in the day-to-day grind are small pictures of the struggles we will face at work or home. Something I’ve had to learn as an athlete is how to bounce back from setbacks, to get back up after falling down, and to grow from mistakes.
Last Saturday our team fell. Our offense didn’t execute and our defense struggled to keep Mines out of the end zone in the second half. We let each other down. And, I felt like I let many of my teammates down. Communication is one of the main jobs of a center and I fell short. A team’s communication is intricate because all 11 guys on the field have to speak the same language. We’re all part of the chain and when one link is broken, the chain is weak.
We lost. What's next? The game is over and you feel like dirt. Every step you took or didn’t take during the game is recorded and picked apart to uncover what went right or wrong. Twenty-four hours after the loss there is a realization, though: You can only sulk so much. In six days, you will face a new team. One with new challenges and new opportunities. You can no longer live in the past. You have to move on.
How do you respond? One, you can let your past failures haunt you and play scared. Two, you can create excuses as to why you played poorly and move on full of pride. Three, you can choose to accept your failures and successes from the game as opportunities to grow.
The first option regrets the mistakes you made but cannot find a way to grow from them. The second option avoids the mistakes you made. The third option allows you to take what went right and wrong from the game and transform it into growth. You can stay down, or you can get back up. Every step, repetition, and play leaves an athlete with more experience than he had before. It gives you something to analyze and compare. How was my effort? Did I communicate with my teammates? Was my pad level low? Did I take a good angle? Did my second step work up-field? Did I get off the ball quickly?
The growth process does not stop with evaluation though. Evaluation is the simple part. Now, you must take what has been learned and apply the changes on the field. You must grow. “Don’t just tell me what you did wrong, show me how you will fix it.”
Getting back up after falling down separates average teams from great ones. It takes a group of men to buy into growing from their mistakes and believing in each other to have one another’s back. This is something we preach as Eagles, but you have to live it, not just say it. You show it in how you practice and how you buy into the coaches’ game plan. You show it with mental toughness and game day tenacity.
I know my teammates will grow from their mistakes. They will be good fathers, bosses, husbands, and co-workers because they will never settle. They will never make excuses. And they will never live out of fear.
They choose to get back up one play at a time.
Sept. 17, 2014This Saturday at 8 a.m. our team will meet for a pre-game meal. The only sound that will be heard in the campus cafeteria on game day for the Eagles will be forks and knives clinking and clanking against plates. There will be no talking. No unnecessary noise. No laughter. All business. The players will sit quietly eating scrambled eggs, fried potatoes, ham and sausage, and fresh fruit, while downing cups of orange juice. This meal is first in the order of events for most player’s pre-game preparation.
Coach Long has always preached mental preparation. You do whatever you have to do to attack every task with an "all in" mentality. This means you don't go through the motions. You attack every moment with the same intensity and focus as a solo block on third down and inches. Even the pre-game meals are all in.
As we eat, Coach Stein occasionally overlooks the squad. Players often keep to themselves hoping to not meet his gaze. If you find he’s staring you down, then you better shut up quickly. We prepare business-like; younger guys are usually the ones who have to learn the hard way. If you make unnecessary noise, then you're going to pay for it. To some outsiders, our team’s game-day demeanor may seem odd, but I assure you that it’s all for a good purpose.
Enter the locker room on Saturday and the oddities continue. Upon arrival, the only thing you might hear is a mish-mash of music that cares more about the quantity of noise than the quality of the music. People who really want to pump themselves up bring their own tunes in mp3 form. Some go for no music. Jonn McLain emphasizes not getting too amped up before the game. I rarely see him listening to anything. Instead, he paces. Personally, I mix it up. Some games I’ll throw on some tunes and others I prefer silence.
The things you see in the locker room will seem a bit odd as well. Robert Jackson, aka “Rob Doh,” aka “Bob,” aka “Dump truck,” will be sitting in his locker in full game day dress with a pair of dark tinted sunglasses covering his eyes. He will bob and sway his head to the music blasting through his headphones, completely oblivious to his surroundings. You will see offensive linemen sprawled out on the floor particularly seniors Lance Pickett and Mike Lorenzo. They will be adjusting their knee braces or warming up joints with heat pads in preparation for the game. Michael Madkins will probably be dancing to the music playing through his headphones. He is a guy who isn’t afraid to show some emotion. Other guys are emotionless. Zach Sandstrom, typically known as one of the most cheerful and funny guys on the team, will flip a switch on Saturday. He won’t joke around. His smiling face will change to a serious one for the next four hours. Jonn McLain will still be pacing – a lot.
Although my teammates all have individual quirks, I will never question the way each man prepares. Each individual prepares uniquely, however, all of us are working toward the same team goal: To be mentally and physically ready to perform our best when we step on the field.
I will never question Zach Sandstrom as to why he is serious on game day. I’ve never walked up to Jonn McLain and asked him to stop pacing. And I will never mock Robert Jackson for wearing sunglasses inside. Watch how the guy plays and you’d never question his preparation either. Hint: he got nicknamed dump truck for a reason.
Saturday, Colorado School of Mines will roll into town for our first conference game. The Orediggers are a team who beat us last year. We know every game is a must win in the RMAC, but our preparation won’t change. Every game matters. The two games we played before mattered and Saturday’s game matters. We don’t play a game preparing to lose. We play to win; we prepare to win.
I believe in the statement: “It’s just a game.” It’s true. It is just a game. And, Saturday is just another game. But, it’s a game we are prepared to win.
Sept. 10, 2014The life and responsibility of an offensive lineman is all about managing and maintaining your ground. Sometimes your job is to drive forward, while other times you want to prevent yourself from being pushed back.
I can recall one statement that was repeated again and again during practices my freshman year: “Stop the bleeding!” Coach Bill O’Boyle yelled it at me during the daily one-on-one segment of practice quite often. To understand what he meant, you need a little offensive lineman education. Simply put, there are two basic play types that occur in a football game: A run and a pass. When running the ball, the team’s goal is to attack aggressively to move the line of scrimmage. However, when passing the ball a lineman’s mentality changes from aggression to composure. His job is to create a pocket for the quarterback to comfortably throw the ball without feeling the pressure of a defensive player. To put it in Coach O’Boyle’s words, on a pass play there is going to be bleeding. You are going to give up some ground. You win, however, if you can slow the defensive assault before the ball is thrown. Hence, you are stopping the bleeding.
This week I was thinking of that phrase but in a different light. During a football season, each player is in a daily battle to keep his body healthy for the next game. Last Saturday our first game rolled around and we finished on top. The victory against Missouri S&T left the team on a high note. We had a great crowd cheering us on. Many of my teammates got a chance to show what they can do on the field for the first time, and it was also a game to honor former Eagles who helped build our team’s strong tradition.
After the elation of a win goes away, a player wakes up Sunday morning with the reality that his body took a beating the day before. Knees are swollen, shoulders are tight, and his back and neck feel fused together. He suddenly realizes that he has six days to prepare his body to do it all over again. .
Don Watt, our head athletic trainer, unfortunately (just kidding, Don) becomes your best friend. The next week is filled with treatments daily. Ice bags and whirlpools speed up the recovery process, ibuprofen is part of a daily regimen, and ultrasound and muscle stimulation give a player’s tired body some relief. Every free minute of the day you try to get off your feet in an attempt to recover your legs for the next workout, the next practice, and ultimately the next game. All you can do is try to stop the bleeding.
After the cycle of treatments, the Friday pre-game walkthrough rolls around and you are feeling relatively normal. The swelling is gone and the aches have subsided. Saturday hits with the same excitement and intensity you felt before the week prior. Sunday, the pain and soreness will return. The cycle continues.
To some it may seem like folly, but I wouldn’t change a thing. Neither would any of my teammates. Managing the bumps and bruises is something we’ve all come to accept as a large part of the sport we love.
We all know rewards inevitably demand payment. Whether those fees involve blood, sweat, tears or broken bones, it doesn’t matter. In order to achieve greatness, weakness has to be defeated. Bleeding is bound to happen in football. As for me and my teammates, we chose to stop it.
Sept. 3, 2014Beginnings inevitably lead to endings. Since I’m a fifth-year senior, my earliest memories of playing football are beginning to become my final ones. The start of 2014 is the finish of my career.
When Patrick O’Boyle, another senior on the team, asked me last weekend: “You ready for our last, first home game as Eagles?” I didn’t respond, but thought to myself: “It’s just another game.”
Well, it is and it isn’t. Attacking sports with a simplistic mindset is something my teammates and I practice during our entire athletic careers (it’s also one the CSC football coaches preach). If you think too much about what your job is in football, you will only make yourself worse by making mental errors. It’s true, you can think too much.
It’s good for me to think, though, that this game against Missouri S&T is just like the games before. I can keep my mind clear, and focus on my own tasks and the goals of our team. However, Patrick’s words to me last weekend were true, as well. Saturday at noon, I will take the field for the last, first time. That makes this game mean more, even though it really is just another game.
A group of 18 rag-tag seniors – only nine of us are original to our 2010 freshman class – will take Elliott Field with our team and ring the bell one last, first time. We won’t get another first game.
It would be wrong for me to say I want to make this one count because every game is approached that way. Too much is at stake this season. We’ve been given too much to not give every game our complete focus. I do, however, think I’ll view this game with a different perspective and appreciation because I realize how far I’ve come. I’ve been through four seasons, and, unfortunately, I know this will be the last one.
I remember my first, first game as an eagle. In the fall of 2011, Garrett Gilkey, a former left tackle at CSC, succumbed to appendicitis a few hours before we faced off against the University of Mary. Consequently, I was designated to play center to help fill up the missing gaps in the offensive line. My weekend turned from a fun-filled time full of all you can eat buffets and hotel shenanigans to a serious game time mindset. I felt like throwing up. I didn’t know if that was due to the buffets or nerves. But there had to be a first, first game and it’s led me to where I am today.
Farther back in the fall of 2010, I remember my first day as an Eagle crying in my dorm room before fall camp began. The older offensive lineman nicknamed me “Salmon” because I looked like I was ready to swim home at any time. Time has gone by so fast. I’m thankful I didn’t swim home.
For my remembrances, there are 17 other unique experiences to all the seniors in our class that each one of us cling to and help us appreciate our time here.
All of those firsts have been leading up to one big last for the 18 of us. This entire fall will be a season of full of endings. Our last fall camp is in the books. We have one final chance to wear the Eagle jersey this season. One more season to ring the bell on game day. One absolute chance to pursue our team goals and attack every moment.
It’s been said before, stories end with a bang. The first chapter of the 2014 season for the Chadron State football team will begin with a ring.
