It was a Friday night in mid August 1991. I was a noseguard and middle linebacker on defense, depending on the play. I also played right guard on the offensive line. This is the story of a night that could of well ended any hope of being an athlete, on any level, from this point on. I will be telling the story from the defensive side of the ball, due to that is where I was playing when I had five vertebrae, slightly, separated.
The clear ski appeared like god had popped peepholes in it so he and the angels could watch the game. The lights were shining down upon the field, as if all the lights on Broadway were centered on our two teams at this very moment. The field was in perfect shape. Grass so green it was an island in the sea of black that surrounded it. …
