High School Sucks? Part I

This is the 1st of a 2 part story .  Teen years and high school were rough. No one makes it without help. Your help...

The Good... the Bad

In some ways, I've really felt cheated in life, but I still believed in myself.

My neighbor friend, Terry, was like another brother to me. He died in an auto accident, age 19. I was only 16. I was lucky to have three older brothers, but it was Terry whom I looked up to.

Terry convinced me to take up sports in junior high school. Prior to then, I was just a wimp with no purpose. He encouraged me to tryout for football, so I did, and I made the team. No biggy, since most kids did make the team. But I was different. I needed an identity, and unknown to me, a vehicle to normalcy, to coolness. Football became that vehicle.

The next year as a sophomore, I was trying out for the junior varsity team. Because of my speed, instead, I made the varsity squad. It was totally unexpected. And the junior-class players were quite upset, especially since a few of their mates were assigned to the jv team. Some of the juniors were out to get me, but the senior players protected me. They told me so, and it was kinda cool just to know they cared about me. All I could do was play hard. Eventually, the junior players would come around to respect me.

But it was all because of Terry. I never would have tried for these achievements without his encouragement.

I was blown away when he died.

 It was a hot night, July 3rd. That evening my parents had a big row, so I fled the house.  I walked the village streets, had my usual imaginary pissed-off discussions with God. Why me, kinda stuff. A sorry attitude, but I was just a kid. I never really experienced a time without hearing loss.

That night I ventured back home after 10PM. Our house was all dark. It was quiet… still. Everyone had gone to bed. Regardless, I didn’t want to go inside. So I took a seat on the front porch steps. As I sat there thinking about my own fate… my parents fighting… life in general… a taxi-cab pulled around the corner… as it screeched to a stop… Terry’s mom jumped from the rear seat and ran to her house.

He was dead... a car accident. Wet roads and alcohol were involved. Someone else was said to be driving, but it was Terry’s car. I never blamed the driver.

I dedicated football to Terry. But I told no-one. There were discussions and rumors about Terry in our locker room, but I couldn’t share my feelings. We had been too close. No one would understand… or so I felt.  So I just competed as hard as I could. 

And I was rewarded….