Since I haven't posted as expediently as one might following a resounding, end-of-the-season victory, I suppose you might have guessed how our last contest played out. Minus several key players and with several other key players playing outside of their ordinary positions, we were unable to finish off the season as we would have liked, falling by a score of 19-0.
This was very disappointing as you might imagine, considering our unblemished start that stretched into the eighth week of the season. No one likes to lose. Period. But to do so after reaching such heights really hits you quite hard. However, nothing can be said or pined over now that will change what happened, so I'm just going to leave it at that. Eight wins to two losses will have to do.
The final "Danish Football Moment" came on the opening kickoff of the game, when I made my last tackle of the season. I did so in a rather unorthodox fashion. In lieu of properly breaking down, squaring up and wrapping my arms around the ball carrier, I resorted to a different method: grabbing the back of his jersey with one hand and ripping him to the ground. I didn't do this intentionally, I assure you. Eager to rectify the transgressions committed by the previous game's kickoff unit, I focused on keeping my lane until absolutely necessary (i.e. seeing the return man right in front of me). For those who need further clarification, on a kickoff, each player running down the field must keep a disciplined path, en route to tackling the man who has the football. When players fail to 'keep their lanes,' returners are often able to exploit a specific section of the unit and run for a significant gain. I made sure to do this on this particular kickoff, busting through a frontline blocker before my blazing speed (HA) almost took me past the man with the ball. I quickly changed directions, realizing he was practically passed me to my inside and so, I just jabbed my hand into his back, grabbed some cloth and pulled him to the ground. Even in my more svelte physique these days, I still outweighed this fellow by a good fifty pounds and his forward progress came to an abrupt halt.
That was one of the few highlights worth mentioning on the afternoon. Brian's father was actually in attendance for the game, making the trip all the way from Grand Junction, CO. Upon seeing him on the sidelines immediately after the final whistle blew, he quoted the old adage, made popular by Sam Elliott's Cowboy in The Big Lebowski, ''Sometimes you eat the bear and sometimes, well, he eats you." Couldn't have put it better myself. Before long, I will come through with a much more sentimental recap of the season here, but for now, I have to prepare for a few things going on this weekend. Tomorrow, I will be joining my U16 players for an afternoon cookout while watching some archived college football on ESPN's website.
Check back Sunday for the final Travelogue and a few other posts. Enjoy your weekends out there and best of luck to all my MHS Tomahawks and Marist Red Foxes in action this weekend!
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