Ever since I was a little boy I wanted to play football. My dad was a hell of a nose tackle, my brother played defensive back, and my cousin is currently one of the best high schol running backs in the state of Florida. Football runs in the family. My mother would never let me play though. Not until I was in high school. I had quit my freshmen year during summer conditioning. It was too much. And I regret quitting to this day. But I couldn't play until my senior year, because I got really bad grades in 9th grade. So I just ran, and lifted up to my senior year.
I had decided that I wanted to play the Defensive line. All of the varsity players who played hat position, along with the linebackers were badasses. I didn't know what had made them like that. This is what I did know: The D-Line coach was Coach Smith. Him along with Coach Louis were easily the two toughest men that I had ever met. The only rules of that defense were as follows: Out Hit Them, Speed, Finish. The Defensive Line practiced in a place called "The Pit". And they would do a drill so nutorious that it was illegal in the state of Florida. It was called "Laser Line". One person would line up on another and coach would say the word" HIT!!!!" Their bodies would collide and you had to drive the other person back, and headbutt, throw them to the ground, etc. Basically it was a toughness drill. Teaching ou how to destroy your opponent. I heard a story about how one guy through his opponent to the ground, took off his helmet, and beat him over the head with it. And this wasn't just some player, this was the quarterback who he was doing this to. The other drill that they would do in The Pit was called "Machine Gun". You line up in a two point stance facing a group of guys in that same stance, and when coach said the word "HIT!!!" At that moment you are to charge at, and collide with the men infront of you. Immediately after one collision the next guy comes. If you get ran over you just have to get back up. After you hit everyone, you turn around and you do the drill again. The Pit was also used to discipline the football players.
Everytime one of them would act up in class, the teacher would notify Coach Louis, and Coach Smith. He'd get beat up before, during, and after practice. For the first thirteen weeks of my senior year Coach Smith, and Coach Louis between the hours of 3:45 & 6:45 would make my life a living hell. The first day that I had stepped onto the practice field i was scared. I wasn't use to being violent, hitting, and attacking people. All things that D-Linemen were suppose to love to do. The first time that I had really got hit, I cried. I hadn't cried from pain since. Was a little boy. One of the players said: "Dont worry John. Just hang in there. You'll get tougher, I can promise ou that. Just hang in there. We all had to go through it." As I dragged myself off the field that day, the defensive back coach came up to me, and kissed me on my cheek. His skin was rough. I never asked him why he did it. I think he did it because he knew how hard the season would be for me. I had the biggest headache of my life that day. It was excrutiating.
I was usually all alone in The Pit against them. There weren't too many new faces playing D-Line. But when someone did go in there, they were glad that they left. One time this one uy went in there, and when he left he said: "Man Coach Smith better not make me do that **** again, I'll quit." Probably the worst thing about The Pit was that no matter how tired you got, no matter how much ou wanted the next collision to knock you out, no matter how much you wanted to stay in the dirt, and not get back up, Coach Smith would not let up. After practice I would go to school, and my friends would say "Damn John you look beat up." if they could only know how I felt. I was on JV. Can you imagine that? A big strong senior who looks like he prototypical Defensive lineman on JV. Sometimes students, and teahers would masked fun of me. My teammates would tell me how sorry I was, and that i would never get in. The JV season lasted only 6 weeks. And when it was over I had decided to stay with the team, I wouldn't allow myself to quit again.
One day during the machine gun drill a guys shoulder pad had went in my facemask cutting me about a half-inch under my eye. He didn't apologize. There is no compassion in The Pit. The first time that I had actually gotten in scrimmage during pracitce I had got drove all the way back to the safety by the O-line. Coach Louis said: "Keep laying it on him!!!! I gotta know if he really wants to do this!!!" I hung in there. By the eight week I was no longer afraid of the violence. I was use to it. But I still hated it. And to prove that I wasn't afraid anymore I decided to tell Coach Smith to throw everything he's got at me. I didn't have anything to lose. I got injured that practice. I had hyper-extended my neck and it was discovered that I had scolliosis. The doctor said that it was risky. So my mom wouldn't let me play anymore. And when I heard that I cried. This would be the last time i do this because by the end of the season, I will no longer be able to cry. I had missed two weeks, but then the doctor got an opinion from another doctor telling him that football is good for people with scolliosis. So I got to play again. When I came back i was different. I was no longer getting run over. I had begun to grow into the position. I was attacking, just like coach taught me to do.
The week before the last I had become psychopathic. My heart filled with anger, and hatred. Violent contact was my favorite thing in the world. I felt so alive. I became tougher, and badder than the players who had beat me into this state of mind. I decided that The last week of football I was going to display a terrifying manifestation of what I had become. I had told Coach Louis that I'm goin to show him something on Monday. All Monday morning i was pissed off. I left my last period class to get suited up early. As i walked out of the locker room one of the assistant coaches grabbed my jersey, and said: "You ready big John?" I snatched my body away, and said: "It doesn't ****ing matter, i don't care anymore, in pissed!!" As I approached closer to the field the guy who cut me just under my eye grabbed my arm and said: "You ready?" I violently snatched my arm away, and said: "Leave me alone!!! ****!!" Someone on the background said: "Hes going to kill you." He arrogantly said: "Yeah right, Johns soft." He was about to eat those words. I took a knee on the field watching the wide recievers do there pre practice warm ups. Coach Louis came on the field. And one of the assistan coaches said:"John say he pissed off today." "Oh really now? Where's he at?" That was my cue. I menacingly walked over there to The Pit, and slipped on my helmet. I lined up so close to him, that our helmets were almost touching. I couldn't wait for coach to say the word"HIT!!!" I couldn't wait to bang.
Our bodies crashed into one another, I drove him back, and threw him to the ground, jumped on him, and I just kept headbutting him. Everything sounded like I was underwater. I could hear his faint pleads for mercy. Mercy was a foreign concept to me now. I could also hear Coach Louis shouting for me to stop..... I never wanted to stop. He tried to squirm away so I flipped him over, ripped his jersey, and started hitting the back of his helmet. Coahuila Louis bumrushed me, shoving me off of him. I wasn't done though. His heart was still beating.
Practice had begun. I got more tackles hat practice than I did all season. I was penetrating the O-line :P, and stuffing the run. Nobody could run on me. I remember one time when I had knocked a guys mouthpiece out. I loved it. This is what I was taught. Attack, attack attack. Destroy the man infront of me. Nobody looked at me the same that day.
A few weeks after the season was over I had got in a fight in school. I annihilated him. His blood was blood was everywhere. The walls, floors, tables, on him, on me. It was a beautiul sight to be seen. When my suspension was over, and i saw Coach Louis for the first time I had never seen him so happy. He knew that he was one of the key elements that made me like this. Bad men like me use to run wild through that defense. Back when our football team was elite.
Sometime after that, I had asked Coach Smith if I'm suppose to feel so mean. So malevolent. He told me this: "Hey man, the way you are now, was in there all along. I just let it out. It came to late though." He knew that if I could come back, than I would be a star. Atleast the best Nose Tackle in the county. Despite the way that I feel on the inside, I'm not mean to anyone. I'm nice to people. But I just don't really care about my friends, or my family. I act like I do though. Since I've been this way i have never met someone that i didn't want to fight. And at this point in my life I have never been drunk. I know that if I do get drunk I may end up killing someone. Because that's what's inside of me now. Football taught me discipline. So I can control it these violent feelings. I know So off-topic would you consider me to be evil? If not then what am I?
EDIT: Is that better? :)
Welcome to Fight Club ;) 
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