Run

Daron was a football and baseball star in high school. Living in Texas, being a football star was a status symbol. Athletes with any ability in any area were expected to contribute to the Friday night pigskin ritual.

Being part of the football team made him feel like a celebrity.

On Friday mornings, Daron would line up with his team members to parade into a gym full of fans and scantily clad cheerleaders chanting, “Mojo, mojo, mojo….”, (the team’s catch phrase.) He found the chorus quite intoxicating.

The accolades were not as dramatic after the state football playoffs when football season was over. Daron got none of the adrenaline rushes or ego boosts for his efforts on the baseball field. The crowds were much smaller, and no one even thought about a pregame pep rally.

Daron could not admit to anyone that baseball was his first love. He loved the game because he found it more challenging. It was cerebral.

Remembering signs, opposing players statistics that revealed weaknesses, and his own team members abilities to spot a runner trying to steal a base all required the exercise of his brain power.

He loved watching the 95 mile an hour pitches hurl toward the plate while a 165-pound young man with a bat attempted to hit the orb somewhere into the realm of the beautiful outfield. With a leather glove on your hand, a plastic cup strapped to your genitals and mental acumen you had the power to determine in a matter of seconds whether you’d be a hero or a rube.

But Texas crowds worshipped football, Texas was football. His high school team had a long record of winning playoff games and state championships. He came from a small town in west Texas, Odessa. The community had two serious investments, oilfield drilling and the local football team’s domination of opponents every Friday night at the stadium.

Daron recognized the benefits of his participation in football. Making the team came with certain perks. He always had a beautiful girl waiting for him after the Friday night game, an invitation to a party on Saturday night, his choice of popular girls waiting for his invite to the homecoming dance and a free Dairy Queen Blizzard whenever the crowd invaded the joint.

So, he invested his time, energy and intelligence in preparing his body for performing at each football game in order to continue the glory train that the community had come to expect and that the players used to their temporary benefit.

After all, this fame was only available during a player’s attendance in high school, a short three years. Academic achievement could cause a player to have to sit out, so failing in order to play an extra year was not an option.

Daron had a personal workout regime that started every Sunday. He first had to attend church, of course. Odessa was a small Southern town, so church attendance was expected. Services were followed by the traditional pot roast, potato, and broccoli casserole lunch with the entire family including aunts and uncles.

After the feast, Daron participated in table talk with the grownups followed by some board games with nieces, nephews and cousins. The younger ones would then be bundled off for a nap, leaving Daron the freedom to change into work out shorts and running shoes. He would thank his momk for a wonderful lunch, kiss her on the cheek and head out the door for a 5-mile run in Texas heat which often exceed 3 digits.

Known for hot temperatures, Odessa was also considered very dry and often referred to as having desert conditions. The summers were brutal and were followed by a fall season that gave little relief.

Football preseason began in August with practices twice daily. The district games would start in September followed by playoffs in November and December.

Daytime temperatures stayed in the 100’s and 90’s through the Thanksgiving break. The weather might bring a surprise drop for a day or two but would soon return to the miserably hot norms.

Occasionally, a Friday night game would be played in “football weather”. This meant that a “cold front” had allowed the temperature in the daytime to drop to 70 and the evening temperature to fall into the 50’s. When a breeze blew, the windchill would register at 40 degrees.

But the majority of the football season: practices, workouts and games, were played in a grueling 90+ degree temperature.

Daron had adjusted. After all, it was a “dry heat”.

Being used to the scorching temperatures did not stop him from sweating and requiring frequent hydration when he ran. He had learned some helpful “tricks” such as wrapping a wet cloth around his neck and mapping his 5-mile route to include park water fountains.

This Sunday routine was followed by an early Monday morning run, only 4 miles, then a stop at the high school gym. He’d spend 45 minutes lifting weights then return home to shower and dress for school.

After school, the grueling team practice would last for 3 hours in the late afternoon heat. Daron was glad when practice ended and he could hit the locker room shower, stop by the Dairy Queen with his buddies, then head home to kiss his mom and fall into a deep sleep.

On Tuesday morning, the routine started again…….and Wednesday and Thursday.

Fridays began with the same 4-mile run. However, the work out ritual was replaced by the pep-rally which replaced the beginning of the school day. He and the team donned their jerseys and strode into the gymnasium to the thunderous chant, “Mojo, mojo, mojo!”

The three-year celebrity status came to a halt too soon when Daron and the other seniors in his class crossed a stage to receive a diploma.

After graduation, Daron was recruited to play football for a state college. He was offered a scholarship that would fund his education. However, he was disappointed to learn that the contract would require his participation in sports to include only football. His parents and family assumed the decision was obvious; however, they underestimated Daron’s love for the complexity of baseball; the game played on a diamond with a small round ball.

Without consulting his parents, coaches or other advisors, Daron decided to forego the scholarship. The local community college had an outstanding baseball team that often received notice from Major League scouts. The tuition was reasonable and many local non-profit organizations offered help with the cost.. His intent was to pursue his true sports love. He wanted the achieve notoriety in front of the ballpark crowds. Anyway, he said to himself, “You can’t play football forever.”

Jerry was also a football player. He played quarterback for Mojo’s greatest rival in their district. As such, Jerry had suffered many a blow to his body and some minor head injuries. Upon his graduation, Jerry wanted nothing but to continue the celebrity that he was gifted by his weekly performance under the bright lights at the stadium.

A state university recruited Jerry to play college ball and offered a full tuition ride in exchange for his commitment to the school. The QB was excited and knew this was exactly the kind of start that would lead to his draft into the NFL.

He had to take a full load of courses and keep his grades at a certain level or risk ineligibility to play. High school ball had the same strict requirements. His high school teachers had been some of the biggest football fans and supporters of the Friday night ritual. Jerry knew that his courses, tests and sometimes final grades were dealt to him with the understanding that without him leading the team, the high school would not produce a winning record and make the coveted state playoffs.

Jerry was pleased to discover within a few short weeks at the University that his college professors also loved the pigskin sport. With few exceptions, they followed similar traditional measures to ensure that the star athlete had the necessary GPA to provide the weekend entertainment for the alumni and fans.

When Jerry began his first year, the starting quarterback position was held by a senior player. This young man had led the team to many victories and was expected to maintain the starting slot for the year. The coaches, however, quickly noticed Jerry’s ability to read the defensive line and throw a perfect pass to his chosen receiver. They started to put him in to allow their starter some rest, sometimes allowing Jerry to play the last quarter of the game if the team was ahead.

The team had a winning record going into their sixth league game. Fans were already sure that this was the year their team would finish the year undefeated. During the first quarter at this pivotal game, the opposing team’s defensive line broke through the home team’s line shortly after the ball was snapped. The veteran QB was smashed to the ground before he could turn and shovel the ball to his tight end.

The crowd gasped as he fell beneath three huge opposing linemen. The stadium grew quiet as the referees dug into the pile of bodies. All of the young men rose except for one. The quarterback lay on his back with an expression of pain on his face. He held his hand for the coaches and trainer, who had quickly come to his aid, to see. The fingers of his dominant hand were twisted in a very unnatural position.

Jerry was secretly delighted, as the quarterback was helped to his feet and led from the field to the sound of thunderous applause. The coach pointed to Jerry who quickly donned his helmet and ran on to the field to finish the game. Jerry soon learned that he would finish the year as the new starting quarterback. The x-rays of the QB’s injured hand showed a break that would not heal before the season was over.

Jerry knew this was his chance to create a legacy that would propel him into the NFL draft. He imagined the cheers, women, and money that would all be his when he dominated the field as a professional player.

He never lost his dream, though his university team’s record did not prove to be outstanding. Jerry’s passing and running statistics were great but overall, his team did not fare well.

Jerry’s academic performance was, as expected, enough to allow eligibility for games but not enough to encourage further academia.

So, the last year of college for Jerry, when the NFL draft concluded, Jerry was devasted at facing the reality that he was not part of the elite headed for a career in football. He had not ever thought about a back up career or plan. He’d never held a job, instead relying on gifts and freebies from alumi and supporters.

With no alternative plans, Jerry soon found himself living with his mom. He would often “borrow” cash from her purse in order to head to the local watering hole where he regaled whoever had the misfortune of visiting the same place with exaggerated tales from his glory days. When asked by a listener, “if all that’s true, why aren’t you playing in the pros?”; Jerry responded, “Ah well, you can’t play football forever!”

Daron continued his grueling workout and running schedule when he started with the local college. He had to make some adjustments for the more frequent schedule of baseball games. He was relieved to find that the local college did not require him to declare a major. So, he enrolled in basic courses that were required for all degrees.

Daron knew in his heart that he was headed for “the Show”, the major leagues, someday. He truly believed that his strict training and understanding of the complex game would pay off in the long run.

Daron’s quick time in running the bases was unequaled. When he played the outfield, he could cover the vast space quicker than any rival. However, his speed did not translate to hitting or catching. His statistics in these areas left the scouts scratching their heads and marking an x by his name.

His coach recognized the drive and dedication in Daron. He knew that sports did not always turn into the dream depicted in movies. So, he encouraged Daron to take some courses in pre-law and forensics. Daron was hooked. Instead of being devasted at his failure to be drafted by a major league team, he was intrigued at the thought of becoming a law enforcement officer.

He excelled in the police academy, was offered many jobs, and landed with the Texas Department of Public Safety. Each time he donned the trooper’s uniform, he grinned at the handsome, well built, intelligent man that grinned back from the mirror.

One night, as Jerry left the bar his thoughts churned. What had gone wrong, why hadn’t his dreams panned out, what was his next move?

The bourbon swirled around his thoughts and questions. Jerry had driven this highway home a million times and knew the route by heart. But this night, he was so wrapped in the fog of his disappointment that he failed to register the proper speed limit and didn’t notice the state trouper’s vehicle parked strategically by the road.

Daron in that very state trooper vehicle. He clocked the Capri at 73 mph. The posted speed limit was 45. Daron hadn’t wanted to use his time on this evening writing speeding tickets. He had hoped for something more exciting. But he recognized the danger the speeding car might pose to others.

Reluctantly he shifted into drive and hit the button that activated his overhead lights. He had forgotten turning the steering wheel sharply to pull into the dirt side of the road. His foot pressed the gas pedal before he remembered to right the steering wheel. His car swerved further into the field forcing him to hit the brake, reverse, back up and head out after the speed limit violator.

He felt his cheeks grow warm with embarrassment but continued his mission, all the while wondering if he had made a big mistake pursuing a career in law enforcement.

Jerry grimaced when he saw the red and blue lights flashing in his rearview mirror. His thoughts quickly reviewed the number of bourbons, straight up, that he had ordered, and he knew that he was in trouble. Of all his options, jail seemed like the worst, at least at that moment.

The Toyota Capri that he had “borrowed” from his mom might outrun the law enforcement vehicle behind him, but he had no idea what contacts the trooper might have to ensure that enforcements would be waiting ahead.

Jerry decided that his best move was to pull over. He parked the car, got out and, with hands in plain sight, headed to the back of the vehicle.

He shielded his eyes to the headlights of the troopers vehicle and used his hand to balance as he walked along the side of the vehicle.

Daron watched as the speeding car slowed and pulled to the side of the road. He brought his car to a stop behind the Capri and saw the driver exit the car and start towards him. The headlights illuminated a man with a face that Dylan recognized but couldn’t quite place. His adrenaline began to pump as he grabbed his hat, patted his side arm and exited his vehicle.

The trooper’s uniform included a utility belt with a taser gun, handcuffs, and extra ammunition for his side arm. His feet were protected by heavy boots.

As Daron shoved his car door closed, he suddenly realized that the unsteady man before him was the former Quarterback of his high school football team’s rival. Daron remembered the rising star that Jerry had been. The man standing before him still looked to be a healthy weight and somewhat agile, but hair was long and unkempt, his jeans faded and his tennis shoes dirty. The man swayed slightly as he shielded his eyes against the glaring headlights.

Before Dylan stepped past his side mirror, a look of recognition dawned on Jerry’s face. Dylan expected Jerry to grin indicating the expectation of special treatment. The trooper was shocked to see panic on Jerry’s face.

Suddenly, Jerry turned toward the open field beside the road and took off. He pumped his arms and legs, running as fast as he could.

Dylan was not used to running with the extra weight of his trooper’s uniform. His boots and belts were bulky and reduced his agility. But Daron had trained for situations such as this and quickly followed after the running man.

Jerry had at least a 100-yard head start. However, the strenuous workouts had built in Daron the ability to cover ground quickly even while hindered by the uniform weight and heavy boots.

As Daron closed the distance between him and Jerry, he began to experience the same natural high that he remembered from the football field under the Friday night lights. He had made the right choice of careers.

He quickly caught up to Jerry, ran a few steps alongside him and then burst passed him. Dylan looked back over his should and with a grin said, “Jerry, you can’t run forever!”