Will the Best Defensive End to Play for Goldthwaite, Please Stand Up?

I have a dream.... (okay, actually I had a dream--but not as catchy)

Ladies, this is one of the ultimate male fantasies in a nutshell....
Rarely do I dream at night, maybe because I dream all day long. If I do dream at night I rarely remember the details, and if I do remember the details, I usually question my sanity, but that's another post. The dream goes something like this...

The weather is cool. A light breeze is blowing across the central Texas town. All the shops are vacated. Car broke down? Good luck. It's Friday night and the stadium lights are on. The sun is just set and the bright stadium lights cast their gleam on the football field. Nestled in the rural town, the stadium lights beacon all to leave their lives and migrate to the field. The lights themselves are exciting and nostalgic.

Why I'm there I don't really know. (Later I learn the reason is destiny) At the beginning of the dream I'm a bystander, a fan of the game and of all things small town football. It's Fall and the height of football season. The location is Goldthwaite and the crisp air is a welcome change. The excitement is tangible.

The stadium is packed with people of all ages, economic status, and occupation. The mixture of black and yellow is obvious (sure we call it gold, but it's really yellow) . It's downright tacky. The band on the west side of the aluminum stands plays intermittently. Doesn't sound great, but it is beautiful...brass, drums, woodwinds all working together, sort of. I sit watching the game, maybe I'm by myself, I don't know, but I'm entranced by the stage before me. I'm soaking it all in. In my body I feel the need to hit somebody. Not a fist punch--a football hit. And not a typical football, hit--that's a tackle. I'm talking the kind of crash the helmet, lift the opponent off the ground, feel kinda lightheaded, dad says "that's my boy!", help 'em up with a smirk on your face, "that's going on the hightlight reel", "please tell me the photographer got that" type of hit that happens only a few times in a football career. It's a feeling all ex football players (who actually enjoyed playing) experience while watching a live alma mater game.

The game is playing. The score--unknown. Suddenly the action stops, a boy playing right defensive end dressed in all black is injured. Players take a knee on either side. Suddenly silence. No fight song. No cheerleading. Only whispers in the stands. With worry and anticipation everyone listens. Soon a sigh of relief breaks out across the crowd like a wave. The player hobbles off the field with the aid of the trainers. But there's a problem. There's no one to take the player's place. Without a replacement the game is over and the Friday night is a bust. The coaches put their heads together as if forming a huddle, you can see them conversing, but not make out what they're saying. Finally, they raise their heads in consensus. Coach Gary Proffit begins walking toward the home crowd.....

"Will the best defensive end to play football for the Eagles please stand up?" My heart stops... "Could it be me, they're talking about?" To stand up would be arrogant. What if I'm mistaken, then I'm just a fool. Just as I'm questioning what to do I hear his voice again, this time with specificity. His Texas accent is thick and his enunciation is slow. "Is Donald Newton here?" I look around. The crowd is starting to murmur and people are beginning to look toward me. "Is it okay to stand?" "Yeah, I think it is." Then I hear it again. "Donald Newton would you please come down and play defensive end?"


As I slowly rise, the murmuring of the crowd increases. The murmuring turns to cheering....then clapping. I start to gallop down the stands as the fans cheer. "Don't fall on theses steps with everyone watching." Next thing I know I'm wearing cleats, shoulder pads, and a helmet. The uniform fits. Like the Texas A&M 12th man, I was called to action.

I can't remember the rest of the dream, but honestly the rest of it doesn't matter. I think there is a reason I don't remember the rest of the dream. It was irrelevant. EVERY MAN DESIRES TO HAVE MOMENTS OF HEROIC WELCOME AND HEROIC RESPONSE. I know the dream was cheesy, but this principle is at the heart of most every man. Was I the best defensive end to play for the Goldthwaite Eagles? Most certainly not, but someone thought I was and not just anyone. Its why we become firefighters, police officers, soldiers...you name it. Ask any red blooded American boy what he desires to be.... bankers, accountants, and such don't make the top 10. It's also why we get bullish when someone hurts our wives' feelings. It's why we threaten our daughters' suitors, and why we work with our kids to tighten the spiral or sink the jumper. So I ask of you women who love your men. Do recognize your man's heroic moments? When he questions, "should I stand up?" are you saying "I think they're calling for you."