2009
Junior Year US
MidAutumn
Afternoon/Evening
Football Practice Field
*The field’s gradient centers burnt sienna clay/dirt in the middle and fades to mostly green grass*
*Every step from each cleat ripping up the grass from that Good Ole Georgia Red Clay*
*Hustle and bustle of testosterone filled helmets and shoulder pads colliding*
The scout defense never gives me a real look in practice, just fear filled movements.
We run a screen play to give me the ball in space…
I guess it worked too well…
I didn’t see many scout defenders around, so I take it easy on this play
An old white man from Texas trying to make his son the starting QB on a random GA 1A private school team & be the US History Teacher: “JOHNSON! Ain’t you black?! Why aren’t you running faster?! Black People run faster than that. You’re running like molasses through a screen door!”
I stop and look at him, puzzled…
perplexed even.
Did he really just try to motivate me with racism?
I look at the rest of the team and coaches.
Everyone is dead silent…
I guess nobody has my back here… but me.
*commences plan to evacuate and return to public school*