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I first started high school football sophomore year. I didn't do it because I was fascinated with the sport or interested in trying new things, I did it because I hoped it would give me a better chance of making the basketball team if I played against sub-par football players who would also be trying out. Yeah, well, I still didn't make the basketball team that year, but I continued with football because I actually grew to like it. During the first few games I saw no action on JV. I sat around during the game and found it very boring and questioned why in the hell I decided to do this. I didn't play on offense as tight end as I would've liked to and I had no idea how to play linebacker. Eventually, I was put on the kickoff and kickoff return team and saw frequent playing time as a result during my sophomore year. I have to thank coach Tinelli. He gave me the opportunity on both these special teams. I just wanted a chance, and there's no other coach who I could thank more. Unfortunately, after my sophomore year, I left that school and all my friends to travel 3,000 miles away and play football here.

May, 2013, and the second semester of my sophomore year. I've adjusted to new life in this new town and made some friends. I went to my first football workout and met some of the coaches and players. We ran a few routes and I caught a few balls. I felt damn good about myself. However, I didn't do so hot during the summer where I frequently dropped balls and gave up catches. I saw very little to no playing time during my junior year with this team. I wasn't on offense, defense, or special teams. I stood on those damn sidelines for 2-3 hours each game. I remember after the second game, I cried. I didn't play at all during that damn season. Eventually, I'd only show up to practice about twice a week because I simply just had enough of this bullshit. I wasted $300 on the stupid team camp, I decided I wasn't going to waste anymore money on this stupid program. The game that was the turning point was about 6 or 7 games into the season when we played Cardinal Gibbons. I stood on the sideline in 30-40 degree weather without much to cover my toes other than 1 pair of socks. I stood on the sideline for 2 1/2 hours watching the game as my toes froze over. I was so cold I was thankful to go to the bathroom during halftime to warm my toes for about 5 minutes.

I wish I can say my senior year of football was better. I want to say that I worked my ass off during the offseason and improved to a point where I actually saw playing time. I can't say this. Again, I screwed up during the offseason where I put my emphasis on defense. During the first day of practice, where we actually tackle each other like we do in a game, I missed a tackle so bad I could hear the coach's frustration as I sense another season of regret and anger. During our first scrimmage, I missed a tackle going to the outside. At this point, I knew I wasn't going to play. I didn't play the first or second game. I think I got in a few times during some games for a few plays. The most playing time I got was against a cross-town rival who we destroyed 66-6. I actually got in for 2 defensive sessions. Unfortunately, the ball was never run to my side so I never actually did anything because I played cornerback and I was usually on the backside of the play. Now, we're in the 3rd round of the playoffs and despite my team's success, I find myself caring about the outcome less and less. I feel good about the win for about 5 minutes, and then I'm quickly reminded that I'm not a contributor and I begin to feel hopeless again. Yesterday, we pulled off a nail biter against a very talented team. As the game progressed into the final stages where we had to make a defensive stand and tensions were high, I so desperately wished to be in there and make a difference. Being a realist, I quickly realized that I wasn't going to get that and only the starters and some talented reserves were going to get that feeling. I feel so bad for my uncle and aunt who've come to several games only to find my standing on that sideline the entire game. It's so embarrassing. I had to lie to my own mother (who's 3000 miles away) and tell her that I play! I can't bring myself to tell her the truth. God fucking damn it, I wish I played.