No Subtlety At All I Tell You

Last night was Gage's open house at the intermediate school. It was the first time we'd been inside the school We hadn't been able to make orientation when he moved up from 4th to 5th grade. And, since the school is a bit further away than three blocks, I had a bit of drive time with the family. After hearing about everyone's day and homework updates, the "normal" chaos of a car ride took over and my mind began to wander. The shuffled iPod hit a random selection of two or three songs and all of a sudden, I was thrown back into my own head with some things I hadn't really given much thought to in a while.

This week 22 years ago, I was in the midst of my senior year of high school. I was getting mail from every college in the U.S. (and some outside of the U.S. as well). I occupied a nice spot on the bench for the varsity soccer team with practice 3-5 times a week and I was the section leader in the marching band.

I was enjoying the time I had left in high school because I had come to the realization the month before that once I departed for college it would be a long time before I landed back in town, if ever. Outside of family and a few friends, there was nothing tying me to this area. I was looking pretty intently at writing programs at colleges like USC and Stanford. Colleges were just starting to use this newish program called email which seemed to make it pretty easy to keep in touch with anyone else at a college or university so I could keep in contact with folks in my class and the few above me that had already moved on.

Now, I don't know if the events of that week stick out to me because of the eventual outcome, the fact that most of the events were anomalies in and of themselves, or they just made for a good story in my head. But, if you stick with me a bit longer, you'll see where I'm going with this.

The soccer team was practicing drills that didn't really complement the style of play we were putting on the field. The coach was fairly insistent for some reason and so we all lined up for slide tackle drills. Now, I don't know if you've ever had the opportunity too see a great slide tackle, but it involves skill, timing, some deception, and a bit of luck. As the tackler, you're leaving your feet for a slide which means you've given up control of your section of the field and hoping you've timed everything correctly to move the ball away from the opposing player. As the person being "tackled," you often times have the opportunity to pass, move, or divert from the tackle entirely. Best case scenario, tackler sees an opportunity, moves in, slides briefly on soft grass, connects with the ball, makes the play, and bounces back up in time to get into position. There are any number of worst case scenarios and that's where I found myself that week. I moved up on the player, saw the opening, and went for the slide. However, instead of my leading cleat staying parallel through the grass, I hit a patch of hard earth and caught the cleat. This had the effect of partially standing me back up in the midst of the slide. I was in the process of bringing my trailing leg around to complete the line for the tackle when I was abruptly caught and stopped. I felt all the vertebrae in my back pop in succession when they were wrenched. As I lay there spewing a nice selection of four letter words, one of the first faces I saw through the blur of pain was the sophomore manager who had been feeding out the balls for the drill. I thought about that face in the ambulance on the way to the hospital.

The hospital made sure I hadn't broken anything and released me with a restriction to take it easy for at least a week. This effectively cancelled soccer practice for me as well as the next game. It also meant that I wasn't going to be able to practice or march with the band that Friday. It would be the first football game I would miss marching in and the only one I missed throughout the four years of high school band. And, since I now had the walking pattern of an octogenarian with osteoporosis, it meant I was going to have to leave class early to shuffle through the halls to get to my next class reasonably on time. And, I usually got to rescue someone to take with me to handle my books. So, a few close friends and I had 10 minutes or so every period just to talk about what was going on that week. Two friends, in particular, took that time to talk to me about that same sophomore soccer manager. At this point it is relevant to mention that these two friends were already dating. I realized that they had both been bringing her up in conversation quite a bit the past few weeks. He used soccer practice and some classes to chat me up. She used band to do the same. However, now they were doing more than just hinting and suggesting. And, they were doing so with all the subtlety of a...you know what, there's not a good comparison here. There was absolutely no subtlety at all.

Now, it might have been the fact that I was counting the days until graduation and leaving town. It might have been my own complete inexperience and lack of acceptable social graces. It could have been the fact that I had the current range of motion of a full body cast. Or, it might have been the fact that this beautiful girl they were attempting to set me up with was about three stratospheres out of my league. Whatever it was, I was fairly resistant. By Thursday of that week, however, they had essentially talked me into a single date. Since the other section leaders of the band knew I couldn't dress and march, they asked if I would attend the game, sit in the stands and critique the show so we could make it better. So, I agreed to ask if said soccer manager wanted to attend with me and maybe grab dinner since refreshment stand food at a high school football game is horrible.

Now, I don't know about your high school, but ours was pretty small. Less than 500 kids total for the whole school and everyone knew everyone else. Maybe you didn't talk to everyone and you certainly weren't friends with everyone, but if someone asked, "Who's that guy over there?" nine out of ten could easily answer whether they were in the same grade or not. This is pre-cell phone so the rumor mill was all word of mouth. Our school was basically two stories with one long parallel hallway sitting on top of the other for all the classrooms with the auditorium, gym, and cafeteria sitting off to the side in an L shape. So, as I was shuffling out of first period band, I had only just confirmed to said female friend that I would "ask" the soccer manager out for Friday. I had taken no action and wouldn't even potentially see the soccer manager for another few periods and that's if I went out of my way to do so. However, within the 10 minutes it took me to shuffle upstairs to my next class, I learned that she had been informed of the lobbying on her behalf, told of my intentions to ask and basically accepted all without me even being there. It was, by far, the easiest time I had ever gotten a date in my life.

When I did finally manage to see her face to face, she confirmed I was asking, I confirmed she was accepting and the only things left to work out were parental approval on her part and if so, what time should I pick her up.

Well, I picked her up shortly after school and we headed to Washington to grab some dinner since Bentworth was playing Wash High that night. We had a pretty uneventful dinner and talked quite a bit all the way to the game. The game itself was fairly uneventful. Bentworth hadn't won a game in over two seasons and even the usual rivalry with Wash High was hard to muster up. I got good notes on the band's performance and the final score ended up being Wash High 69 Bentworth 8. We made it back to the car, through the game traffic, and I took her home and walked her to the door to say goodnight. I don't really remember how the date for the next day got set up. She had cousins staying at her house for a few weeks while they moved from New Jersey and they were stationed at the front door and window in a style that would have made the NSA proud.

But even with all the resistance I had initially put up, we ended up spending the next 11 days going out almost every night and talking on the phone when we weren't together. Throughout those 11 days, I completely re-evaluated everything in my life from top to bottom. From academics, to family, to my hometown, to my choice of colleges, to friendships, to running away, no topic got left out. By Monday the 28th, I finally decided to ask her to be "exclusive" and "steady" and potentially see where a relationship might go. I figured she'd laugh it off and we'd be done after a few more casual dates. And, even though that was the outcome I expected, I was wallowing in teenage melancholy at that thought. So, it took me a day to kind of snap out of that reverie and just ask.

Turns out that she had been waiting, not so patiently, for that very question. So, even though I had planned on driving down to the truck stop, which was basically the only "restaurant" in our town back then, and asking her while we sat in the booth having coffee, I didn't even make it on to Main street. We were sitting on Washington street at the only damn red light in town when she turns to me and asks if I want to be exclusive. I guess it was a good thing I did have the car stopped since I probably would have wrecked the car out of surprise. I said yes, we kissed, and over two decades later that week still has a powerful hold on my imagination.

So, for anyone who stuck around to the end of the rambling, that sophomore soccer manager was/is/always has been my lovely companion through this crazy weird journey of life. That first date and those 11 days after with all of the re-evaluation caused me to choose a better program at a better university. It gave me different perspectives on my hometown and family. It kept me grounded in the thought that life wasn't all about me, no matter how much I wanted it to be. These decisions, these arbitrary turns, brought me to today. And, even though nothing will ever shake the foundation of my life for her, I will never be able to express in words, thoughts, or actions how much the pressure she applied those few weeks in September all those years ago to our mutual friends, who in turn applied it to me, has changed me for the better.

And I must say, that even though things have changed over the last 22 years, our love has only gotten stronger and more intense. And, it has grown over the years to include three very visible reminders of the love we have for each other and our family. And even though I thanked them then, I realize looking back on this story, my two friends that helped set and keep this ride in motion could never actually be thanked enough. So, to them, another thank you from the bottom of my heart and to my wife and best friend Terri...here's to another 22 years of whatever life has in store for us.