The coaches told me to quit and not play my senior season. I ran off the field hurting like never before and looking like Magilla Gorilla-one arm longer than the other.įour hours later, doctors knocked me out at what was then Holy Cross Hospital, and my arm went back into the shoulder socket. Needless to say, that was no prophylactic against Granger in the last game of the season, reaching out to sack the quarterback and my right arm snagging on his gear, dislocating it. Those were the "rub dirt on it" days, so the coaches put a knee pad on it, of all things, with a bunch of hot balm. I'd hurt my shoulder somewhere mid-season, but I didn't quit and kept playing. So, with the Utah State tease in hand, I tried harder hoping to make the Deseret News Player of the Week or something. I was a 205-pound, two-way lineman and linebacker. I was a better-than-average football player in those days, meaning I probably wouldn't make the squad at the bigger high schools today. I wanted to play for the University of Utah, though. It wasn't a real offer, but I pretended it was. I figured, probably correctly, that colleges back then just sent out that stuff to entice anyone to play. Mid-way through my junior year, Coach told me that Utah State asked if I would like to join their program. As a sophomore, I had lettered in wrestling, played varsity baseball and had a kick-ass sophomore football season. In high school, I was on track-in my mind-to be a star football player at Bingham High School. Nothing quite like getting whacked by your friends, I say. I didn't quit, but I cried for a day and hurt like hell. The other guys had the same problem, which is why they switched from throwing snowballs to chunks of ice. Then I ran out of snow and figured it was over. After a spell, I was firing back from my knees. I got pummeled to the ground in the old Copperton tennis courts. When I was a kid, I got into a snowball fight with about five other guys.
Lord knows, I would have been much better off if I were, however.
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