The Importance Of Football In My Life

I used to measure my life in two periods of time: before I discovered football and after I discovered football. Until the age of 9, which to me seemed well over halfway to adulthood, I considered myself a soccer player. I found myself lumbering around in my hulking 4'11" frame, looking to boot the ball into oblivion. My friends, on the other hand, were more apt to tap the ball to each other actually within the field of play. I was big for my age; I developed much earlier than the rest of my classmates. I wore husky jeans and was a little less than a foot taller than most of my friends. Add in a mop of almost white-blonde hair and I resembled a second-grade Ivan Drago, Dolph Lundgren's character in Rocky IV. I stuck out not only physically, but in the classroom as well. I had a knack for finishing my work earlier than other students, so much so that I became a de facto teacher's assistant in order to keep me busy. I wondered why I was so different from my friends. I didn't want to be singled out; I just wanted to fit in. Right around that time, football changed my life. Even from the start, I was a natural. I didn't even require much technique at first; I just used my raw athleticism to block, tackle, and kick better than everyone else. As I got older, I became a utility player; I did

in eighth grade, as research highlighting the dangers of football became hard to overlook, my family made the decision that I needed to quit. I chose my academic career over my first love. I was the right choice to make, but that didn't make it easier. I missed out on playing under the "Friday Night Lights", being cheered on by thousands (Minnetonka is a big school), getting recognized as successful in the biggest high school sport. I started high school with few friends; football was one of the only things my fake friends and I had in