I was fast, competitive, large, and intelligent.
In my mind I believed I was meant to play football. I was not offered a scholarship anywhere. I was recruited a little bit, but it made no sense to me to only go to a lesser school just to play football.
My mom worked at Penn State, meaning I had a large discount coming to ease the burden of tuition. I had a great familiarity of the campus being from the area. Many of my friends from high school would be here.
But mostly, I wanted to either make it at a great program like Penn State or not make it at all.
So after being admitted to the University, I went and sought out my friend Brandon to ask him about how to go about trying out for the team.
Brandon was a 'preferred' walk-on as I understood it. Which meant he was recruited by PSU but told he would not be offered a scholarship at the time. He and I graduated from State College Area High School as part of the 2002 class. He's someone I absolutely trusted and respected.
"First make sure you have you're afternoon classes cleared, because that's when we practice. Here's Mr. Ganter's number, you should call him and ask what to do."
So began my official journey to become a member of an elite group of young men.
"Hello...Mr. Ganter, my name is Ben Baney. I was hoping to try-out for the Football team this year."
Fran Ganter was the offensive coordinator and assistant head coach at Penn State. A former player in the late 60's which included two undefeated seasons, Mr. Ganter had coached at capacity with Joe Paterno for the past 30 years. He was been seen by many in the community as a likely successor to coach Joe Paterno.
I had played with two of Mr. Ganter's sons throughout high school. Both were very talented natural athletes. I thought both also represented great values as far as pursuing academic excellence as well. I hope that by playing alongside he maybe noticed me and saw some potential.
"Yes Ben, we had noticed that you had an interest in being here. I'll be honest with you, if you were trying out for another position such as running back or wide receiver it would be tough to break through but we're always looking for lineman...here's what you need to do...."
This seemed good, and improved my outlook at the possibility of making the squad. I now really thought there was a good chance I'd make it! I would not be on the roster for the start of the season, but if I could get there by say mid October, I'd gladly jump at the opportunity.
I did not have a goal past making the team, but I knew that it was something that I wanted to be a part of. That it was someplace where I felt I would belong.
It was a place where I thought I would succeed.
The Beginning
For the past five years, beginning in the 8th grade I had played, and excelled at football. I had two qualities that probably indicate success in the sport more than any other. Size, and Speed.
People sometimes wrongly assume it's the strength in a football players upper body that makes him successful. That their performance on a bench machine and in a weight room will be the difference makers.
That is categorically false.
Timing in explosive footwork drills and just general mass and size are far bigger factors. In 8th grade I was mildly successful, able to start on both offense at Tight End, and defense as a Defensive End. I would say that I was relatively successful at both.
My sophomore year, of high school, I attempted to switch to Line Backer on defense and stay at the Tight End position on Offense. The year would be a disaster for me. I injured my back roughly 4 or 5 weeks into the season, losing some of my explosiveness. I also dropped far too many passes that year in practice, frustrating both myself and I'm sure my coaches. I had plantar warts on my left heel giving me extreme irritation and certainly not helping my athletic pursuits. I played sparingly in Junior Varsity games and was not selected to go with the team as part of it's playoff roster.
I took that last part as extremely insulting.
My sophomore year was essentially a bust in my view. I did not want to play linebacker again. Worse yet, the rumors began that perhaps I would better suited to a new position such as the Offensive Line. A move I had a particular distaste for.
I would enter my Junior year healthy, and though I protested, because I did not believe that I was better suited to play line than Tight End went along with the position change. I also changed from Linebacker back to Defensive End.
I would start on the first game of the year as a Junior at Left Tackle. A position I really, in all honesty, hated. I was told this move was for the good of the team. That by doing this, not only would I start with my position being relatively secure, but it would make us a better team.
I was successful. I would become a starter on both sides of the ball my Senior year. While I would not describe myself as a dominant player at either position, I had played well and held my own against other kids who would eventually be offered scholarships by places such as Penn State, Pitt, Iowa, and Notre Dame.
My experience against those players made me feel as though I was ready.
Tryouts
Tryouts were only slightly intimidating. There were a fair number of kids that just were looking to make the team as a long snapper or kicker which I wasn't too concerned about. A few players looked to be interested in making it as wide receivers, defensive backs and other 'Skill Positions'.
I had no fears about the measurement part. I fit an almost ideal size for a freshman lineman. I stood 6'3 and weighed roughly 260 pounds. I wound up trying out as a general lineman and took a few throws from Mike McQueary to see about my prospects of playing Tight End.
Sadly I tripped over my own feet, and while I was still able make a diving catch, my apparent lack of grace probably sealed the deal as far as that particular exchange went.
When the first tryout was over, we were told that some of us would be invited back for another workout session.
I would be one of those invited back.
After a second work out, roughly a week later, I received a phone call from McQueary.
"Hey Ben it's Mike, how would you like to play Guard for our scout team offense for us today?"
"Of course!"
My smile couldn't get any wider.
I rushed down to the Lasch Football Building to meet with McQueary and started filling out the necessary paperwork to get me on board, while simultaneously trying out shoes, helmets and whatever else they needed to get me prepped and ready for practice.
My heart was racing so fast from the adrenaline and anxiety that I could barely concentrate on anything going on around me. I was realizing part of my dream, I was achieving what I had set out to achieve. It felt absolutely incredible. It was simultaneously nerve wracking and joyful.
Eventually I would make it out to the locker room. The size of which dwarfed any other locker room I had ever seen. Our lockers were made of wood, personalized, and showed off such grandeur that I couldn't help but be a bit lost in the clouds taking it all in.
It was at this moment I made my first mistake. I stepped on the "S" in the middle of the room.
I don't know when or who started the tradition of not stepping on the "S". To me it seems like a silly tradition, but it was clearly an important one that was held dear to all of those in the locker room.
"Whooa! New kid has to do push-ups!"
"At least 25"
People kept yelling, people whom I was unfamiliar yet at the same time very familiar with. I knew 'about' these players, such as Zach Mills, Larry Johnson, Charles Rush, and Alan Zemitas. I knew them as football players. But now I had the extremely rare opportunity to hear them, and learn about them as people.
They would no longer be the people on television that I would judge from afar and only through the lens of being a fan.
They would be my peers.
I did the push-ups smiling the entire time.
End Part I.
No comments:
Post a Comment