Football, Anyone? 

by Matt Rogers 

I don’t know if you have to like high school and/or college football to work in pro baseball, but it seems to be a pattern around here.

Ideally, fall is a time for those of us who work in the game to rest, relax, reset, recuperate and recover. It’s our reward.

Now, don’t misunderstand me, we never really run out of things to do at Whataburger Field, but life seems pretty sweet when 70+-hour work weeks melt to 40 or even 45. Some time ago I formulated a response for the oft-asked, ‘What it is you all do over there when the season’s over?” Seems most of the queries come from older women.

My response: “Ma'am, we’re either playin’ or plannin’.”

Many of us love watching high school and college football from late August to mid-December. Then, 33 bowl games compel us to flat screens from December 19, when Albuquerque’s New Mexico Bowl pits the No. 3 team from the Western Athletic Conference against the Mountain West’s fourth-place finisher, until January 7 and the BCS Championship Game at the Rose Bowl.

There’s no need to explain the sanctity of high school football in the State of Texas. Years ago, I had a neighbor in Huntsville who put deer hunting season on hold so he could go “watch some games.” I’ve worked in places where you didn’t dare schedule a home game to conflict with the start of hunting season.

But, when East Texas playoff time rolled around, Allan and his uncle motored around the region to catch as many as possible. He had no friends or relatives involved, just wanted to “see some games.”

Those of us who enjoyed regular-season and playoff games (including double and tripleheaders) in the Astrodome can relate. Classic teams played there… Stratford. Plano. LaMarque. Texas City. Port Arthur Jefferson. Aldine. Westfield. Converse Judson. Pearland. Houston Madison. Katy. Tyler John Tyler. Yates. Austin Reagan. Sealy. North Shore. Garland. Port Neches-Groves. Willowridge. Stephenville. Kashmere. Galveston Ball. Dayton. Houston Memorial. Smiley. Eisenhower. Westbrook. That’s not an exhaustive list, but you get the idea. Crowds of 40,000 weren’t uncommon.

Now this Friday, you’re not going to see Kenneth Hall (who rushed for a national-record 11,232 yards at Sugar Land between 1950-53) or Wes Danaher (8,855 for father Phil at Calallen from 1992-95) or Refugio’s Willie Mack Garza (56 TDs for the Bobcats in 1987) between the white lines. Or Billy Sims (Hooks 1972-74) or David Overstreet (Big Sandy 1973-76) or Sammy Baugh (Sweetwater 1931-32) or Earl Campbell (Tyler 1971-73) or Eric Dickerson (Sealy 1976-78).

But, at minimum, you’ll see some local legends in action or in the making.

Startling how quickly things change, how fast kids grow up. Example: less than four months ago, a 14-year-old shortstop was honing his skills across the bag from my 13-year-old second baseman son. Travis Geiser was on Timothy’s team of seventh- and eight-graders playing a couple dozen games from February to June.

These days, Travis, still 14, starts at cornerback for George Harris at Gregory-Portland. He’s mixing it up with 17- and 18- (some 19) year-olds every Friday. Now, rare is the kid who can do that. But sometimes mom and dad still want to jump off the merry-go-‘round.

No one who plays for love of the game ever really wants the music to stop. Oh, he understands it has to… that all things – good or bad – come to an end. It’s just part of life and hopefully, the growth process.

On fall Fridays we’re transported back to a simpler time and place. The sights, the sounds, the smells. My prep team of choice as a lad at suburban southwest Houston’s Butler Stadium was Bellaire, where a smooth option quarterback named Duncan Shanklin (class of ’73) operated the Cardinals attack. He looked like James Street or Gary Mullins to me, later went on to a baseball career of some note at Baylor.

I loved the salty, stale maize (learned years later during a summer job after HS it was popped at a remote site and carted in) and highly-carbonated strawberry soda, sweet enough for Rockport hummingbirds. When it turned cool, I liked the cheerleader sweaters, though it wasn’t the sweaters. I later had that epiphany watching a USC game.

Halftime shows were shorter then. I seem to recall they lasted about 15 minutes, not 28. That was before the UIL band competitions.

If halftime lasted 20 minutes, say for Homecoming, the coaches went *** ****!

But some things never change. The energy of students, on the sidelines or not. The sense of community, like Sean Penn’s Jeff Spicoli character in Fast Times at Ridgemont High. Who can ever forget his Homecoming boutonnière in the button hole of a CPO jacket?

Football games still evolve underneath the stands too, usually with a cheerleader-tossed miniature ball. That’s where you’ll find the boys. Rare is one of these 10-minute games with no scuffle. Usually a police officer is nearby.

Now, as then, girls draw with chalk or hug each other or cartwheel or discuss life’s most pressing issues. If one trips and falls, all of her comrades spontaneously break into sympathetic weeping so severe they suffer oxygen deprivation.

The older ones, well, they can always TEXT or CHAT ON THEIR CELL PHONES. It’s good practice for when they start driving.

Other things that don’t change: public address announcers with systems TOO LOUD or too low. Saturday morning quarterbacks who privately and openly wonder about the run-pass mix. Songs you never thought adaptable for marching bands adapted by marching bands. In my generation, it was Are You Man Enough by The Four Tops. Today it’s Ozzy Osbourne and Crazy Train (which, incidentally, was released in 1980) or Iron Man from his Black Sabbath days.

Though a relative (2006) newcomer to the Coastal Bend, I’ve witnessed some great games and players in these parts. I saw Holden Rios seemingly put G-P on his back a few times. I regret not seeing the triple-overtime thriller on September 15, 2006, when his Wildcats and Carroll Tigers were extended to triple overtime in the “Battle of the Bridge.” That night the Hooks were winning a Texas League championship.

I also lament never seeing the acclaimed Refugio backfield of Malcolm Whitmire, Carl Swain and Collin Avery – but take comfort in the knowledge Kyle Hendley, Jourdan Ortiz and Terrence Smith will be together for a few more weeks. Refugio should again repeat in District 30-2A and make a nice playoff run.

Now, I’ve seen Tim Hawkins and Charles Coleman and Jake Sims turn up big for Carroll and Jerry Bell to Paul Perez and Daniel Sciantarelli for Ray. I’ve seen Ray and Miller go at it as Corpus Christi’s first and second high schools clash at Buc. I remember Miller’s heartbreaking playoff loss to South San three years ago and the exemplary work of former Buc boss Kenny Wheaton. Now, they play hard for Remy Rodriguez and face a stiff test at G-P this week. Charlie McMath is working to turn the Moody (2-4) program around. Eddie Hesseltine is new man at King (3-2); I saw his undefeated Three Rivers team battle unbeaten George West in their legendary 31-2A championship tilt last November… the first occasion since 1956 both teams reached their season finale with perfect records. That’s a big deal in Live Oak County as GWHS and TRHS are 10.62 miles apart. So big, the hundreds who drove up from Corpus settled for SRO.

And, back to Calallen… I don’t recall a tougher kid, pound-for-pound, than slot receiver and return man Mat Garza, who also played second base for Steve Chapman. Mat was slippery, too. Reminded me of Katy legend Will Thompson.

A number of Hooks staffers get or got into the act. Adam Nuse was starting center for the 1998 Salado team involved in the longest game in Texas high school history, an epic eight-overtime 14-8 Eagles victory over Moody (Texas) High.

Jeff Mackor played middle linebacker, tight end and kicked for St. John’s Prep in Danvers, Massachusetts.

Gene Kasprzyk, Hooks radio color analyst, has won more 3A state baseball titles than anyone else. He’s also get-back coach at Sinton on Friday nights, where he can keep a watchful eye on baseball-football guys like Shane Segovia. You’ll find Fred Flores doing the same with scatback Joey Sanchez at G-P.

Bryan Mayhood judges lines for a local officiating crew. Hooks official scorer Lee Yeager is Carroll’s baseball and running backs coach. Since the Tigers typically run a one-back set, he jokes, “I have it pretty good. I only have to coach one guy.” This year, it’s Coleman, but Lee’s also had Anthony Davis, Edward Clark, Johnny Smith and Ted Barnhardt.

Another official scorer, Rudy Rivera, covers games as sports editor of The Portland News and is South Texas blogger for texasfootball.com

Matt Hicks and Michael Coffin regularly call games for CCISD on 1150AM KCCT. Ken Schrom was a quarterback/safety at Grangeville, Idaho, and enjoyed a distinguished career with the Bulldogs before matriculating to the University of Idaho. Garrett Reddehase was dealt a coaching change before his senior year at Academy outside Temple and converted from tight end/defensive end to quarterback. Andy Steavens played high school football in Illinois. A former A-Back, he explained the coaches’ basic weight training philosophy: “some is good, so more is better.”

Gil Perez, our “Odem Flash,” realized to stay one he’d best retire from football after 10^th grade, when he played wingback and safety for the Owls. It worked out as Gil earned all-state baseball honors and played collegiately at Texas A&M-Kingsville.

The best thing about Friday Night Lights is you never know what’ll happen. Some performances endure forever. Others, some notable, have the life expectancy of a soap bubble. More win their games on the practice fields and in the weight rooms, but still enjoy the privilege of “strapping up.”

In towns where high school football is king, there are heroes over the age of 18… coaches, teachers, administrators and adult family members who invest in their kids day after day. All of us, well, it’s our job to encourage and promote, too. To be there on Fridays and the other six days of the week and the rest of their lives, if necessary.

But when you peer at the gridiron from your seat Friday and evening shadows are gone because the helmet-streaking lights have taken over, note those 22 young warriors in their own little bubble. There’s an ethereal quality about them and the 50- X 15-yard plot of sod they share. If you walked over and reached out to touch them, could you? Or would a force field knock you through the nearest goalpost?

That’s their world, open only to those who’ve paid the price. It’s why they play. And, if you don’t, or didn’t, it’s hard to understand.

But not difficult to understand why they’re admired and respected. Some men twice, three times their age grapple with that.

Perennial playoff schools like Refugio and G-P and Flour Bluff and Calallen and Carroll don’t know when their seasons will end. One thing all high school teams should realize: all they’re guaranteed is a season. Seventy days, 77 with an open week. Then their squad – that unique collection of individuals brought together for a specific purpose, time and place – ceases to exist.

It’s not much time.

If they fail to relish the experiences and opportunities, they’ll ultimately miss it in multiple ways.

But that’s youth. And why we keep investing.