Hats On

When I used to go to my locker--

after school

or after a long rest after morning practice

or before the birds told us it was morning--

there was always a countdown.

It was either "a few more days of camp"

or "one more day til Saturday (Friday in high school)"

or "three hours til I get to go back to bed".

Putting on pants over a spandex girdle,

shoving my feet into pre-tied cleats,

strapping on shoulder pads,

mindless tasks before heading out to the grass.

I liked to be alone--

call me weird

or observant--

because it felt right. 

I always felt just a little uncomfortable

and so I knew everything was ok.

We would congregate before practice--

freshman with freshman

running backs and running backs

offense and offense

defense and defense--

and bullshit.

Waiting for the coaches to come out,

to tell us to circle up

or take a knee

or line up on the "gold line",

this was what playing football was about.