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Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: The Inner Person (09/09/10)
The sixth grade and I didn’t get along very well. My attention span was about as long as my cropped hair. I had skinny legs and knobby knees, jeans that were too short and holes in my shoes. My neighborhood was across the railroad tracks from the expensive houses. I loved to run. Most days I left for school at 8:00 am and didn’t get home until supper. If my feet weren’t wandering then my mind was. And there were things I didn’t want to think about.

But, I was excited about news posted on the bulletin board at school. Football sign-ups. When the 3:00 bell rang, I ran for the gym. There was a gray haired man with a whistle around his neck sitting behind a table. He wore a blue sweat suit and a stern expression. I wore a stained pair of jeans and a wide smile.

“Hi,… I’m N..N…Nick.”

“Hello Nick. I’m Coach Kimball. You want to play football?”

“Yes, I ddddo.”

“He likes to rrrun.” Cool Johnny sneered behind me.

“Johnny, be quiet. Nick, sign here and we’ll see you tomorrow.”

The next day in the locker room I dressed in the equipment with my name on it. Outside, we were told to line up, and at the shrill of the whistle run around the field. I took off like a shot and while those bulky kids labored to make it around once, my ninety pound body flew around the field twice. Coach tapped me hard on the helmet. His way of telling me, “well done”. Then came the tackling drills. The air was knocked out of me so many times I thought I’d quit breathing. I couldn’t manage the run home. I walked.

My dad was waiting for me on the porch. I dragged myself up the steps and into his embrace. He was skinny too.

“How’d it go, Kiddo?”

“They about k..k..killed me, Dad. But, I cccan run really fast.”

I could feel his laughter rumble under my ear as I leaned my head on his chest. He must have had one of his good days. They were becoming fewer and farther between. I hoped he had one saved up for Game Day.

The names of positions and plays were brand new to me and I often got confused. Coach would split our team in half and we’d scrimmage each other. He put me at running back. More often than not I either missed the hand off and dropped the ball or ended up flat on my back, Cool Johnny standing over me. Oh, could I frustrate Coach.

“ Nick! When I call a sweep, you run to the OUTSIDE!”

“I..I…I. know. I’ll do b..b..better.”

Finally, the day before our first game, a breakthrough. For the first time, when I heard the play called I knew exactly what to do. The quarterback pitched the ball right into my hands. I tucked it under my arm and sprinted for the outside. I could see Cool Johnny barreling toward me on the left. My feet took over and weaved me around the defenders, down the field and into the end zone. Coach erupted. As loud as he’d been yelling my mistakes, he was even louder cheering my success.

The smile plastered on my face lasted all the way home, up the steps, in the front door, toward my parent’s room.

“Get out Nick.” Dad was in the bathroom leaning over the toilet. I stared at his bald head.

“I said get out.” He rasped between retching.

My touchdown joy vanished. I ran back out the door, down the street to the school, tears pouring down my face. Coach was still on the field.

“Are you okay, Nick?”

No reply.

“What’s wrong, Buddy?”

“Mmmmy dad has cancer.”

With my burly football coach beside me, I let it all out. I wept until there were no tears left. All the while Coach stood with his arm around my shoulders and cried too.

Ten years later:

Dear Coach,

I walked across the stage today in my dress blues. Wish you could have been here. Thank you for helping me become who I am today. Thanks for seeing me as more than a skinny kid with a stutter. I smiled during Sergeant’s speech about becoming a good leader, a good friend, and thought of you.

I love you, Coach.

Nick
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Member Comments
Member
Date
Shann Hall-LochmannVanBennekom 
09/16/10
This is awesome I was so wrapped up in this story. You told it like an expert. The message is great too. Teachers and coaches are so important in a child's life, they help take the sting out of cool Johnny's words and actions. well Done1
Sarah Heywood
09/17/10
You have a winner here - and I'm not saying that just because you made me cry. This tender story touched me in so many places and you wrote it so, so well.

Football is big in our house and I've got one out on the field this season. No one cheers louder than his mama. But I also have another son - the one who rarely gets things right, who has clumsy fingers bent by cerebral palsy and whose autistic mind causes him to act strangly. Your MC actually reminded me more of my second boy than my first, who is the football player. Maybe that's because his presence has caused me to have a soft spot for the underdogs in life.

I absolutely loved this. Excellent work - you won't be in Beginners for long!
Sarah Heywood
09/17/10
should be "strangely," not "strangly" - that puts a whole homocidal spin on what I was trying to say - I think I have clumsy fingers, too :)
Christina Banks
09/20/10
I really liked this. You added much depth to your character. Praise God for the people who step into our lives when we are just skinny kids with a stutter.