By the Dashboard Lights
by Dave Friedli
Sports Sense
The past four weeks, I have watched with amazement the mystery and
mastery of 8-man football, played Friday nights by the smaller
schools in
Until this season, I must admit I had seen only one 8-man game in my
life, and during that game I was catching up with a friend on a
couple of years of lost time, and I really didn't watch the game.
I have gotten a crash course in football played with two less
linemen and one fewer back than that which is seen played by the
collegiate athletes on Saturdays and professionals on Sundays.
The
majority of high schools in
defenses on Friday nights. But the smaller-squad version fits the
enrollment of many villages and burgs in our state.
Here is what I have learned in four weeks of watching the half-dozen
plus two football:
othe field is shorter by twenty yards;
omany fields are part of a baseball outfield, so the stands are
really close to the action, not separated by all-weather track
surfaces like in many larger-school stadiums;
othe pace is quicker, and it is a touchdown if you make it to the
outside corner of the defense;
oscoring lots of points is a good thing if you are ahead;
onot scoring lots of points is a bad thing if the point differential
of the two teams exceeds 45 after halftime, because the game simply
stops, the teams shake hands and everyone goes home, no matter how
much time is left on the clock;
osuccess in the game comes down to blocking, tackling, controlling
the ball and teamwork, just like in 11-man ball;
osome people simply are gifted with sports sense.
Sports sense can't be coached. Sports sense is something that comes
as a God-given gift. In the past four weeks, I have watched a young
man who has a sense for sports that transcends anything that can be
learned from practice or instilled by coaching.
This young man--I'll call him Herman--has sports sense. It comes
naturally, and everyone watching can tell he has it.
Herman has seven fumble recoveries in four games. From his
defensive line position, he seems always to be where the ball is when
it falls out of an opposing player's hands.
It doesn't matter if the fumble happens at the line of scrimmage or
ten yards behind or twenty yards down the field. When the ball is
when it lays on the turf, free and unclaimed, Herman is there.
Some people call such an instinct "having a nose for the football."
I'm not sure what Herman smells when the ball is no longer in the
grasp of a running back or receiver, but he certainly knows what to
do when it happens. Averaging nearly two fumble recoveries a game
must be some sort of record.
Sports sense defies logic. Sometimes it defies coaching. Herman is
not the fastest football player on the team, but he isn't the slowest
either.
Herman isn't the biggest player, but he is well-muscled and carries
a good amount of weight on a 5'11" frame.
Herman doesn't have cat-like quickness, but in one amazing play
which I have watched a number of times on videotape, Herman is ten
feet away from a runner when the ball comes loose, and in one leap,
his huge body covers the distance and surrounds the ball for a
recovery. That instinct and reaction cannot be coached. It simply
happens.
Herman has an explanation for how he is so successful at finding
unclaimed, unattended, unattached footballs in the course of the
game: "I love playing football."
That--the love of playing the game--is what makes sense of playing
sports.