Memoir: High School Football

My sophomore year in high school I tried out for football.  After the first practice, most of the boys said, “Who’s the fairy?”  And I was like, “No, dudes, I’m one of you!  I’m playing football!”  Soon I learned from the coaches that my only duty was to bring down the water jugs before practice and bring them back up after practice.  So I decided that maybe I was better suited to be a cheerleader.

That’s where it all went to poo.

I went to tryouts on a Friday (I remember that specifically because I had plans to go see a Miley Cyrus film after tryouts with some of my girlfriends).  I got dressed up in my tightest tights (they were pink and fiery, like my personality).  I got up in front of the judges and declared, “I’m Ben!  And that’s all I’ve got to say on the matter!”

A shocked judging panel responded, “Okay…”

I then began my routine.  It was a double backflip somersault (I had been practicing all summer).  And at the end (the cherry on top, if you will) came the chef d’oeuvre: my split.

Unfortunately, it did not go entirely as planned.  At the top of my double backflip (which was going swimmingly), I heard in the distance a faint bark from a dog.  It made me think of my cat, Joey, who used to bark like a dog sometimes when he ate too much peanut butter.  Next thing I know, I’m in a hospital bed at DHMC with my scrotum in a permanent cast.

The doctors say it may never heal.

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