Remember the Titans

All of the athletes are covered in mud, sweat, and pain. Their eyes were as if forty pound dumbbells hung underneath. The fear of the unknown was written on everyone’s face. The unexpected stop in a clearing was to be another one of Coach Boone’s expected crazy workout moments. The huffing for breath and the vomiting by the players was overshadowed by the dreary dense fog. The density was that of despair. As the sun raised over the meadow the shadows of tombstones appeared. This wasn’t any place! “This is Gettysburg,” announced Coach Boone. “This is where they fought the battle of Gettysburg!” A question of misunderstanding arose in their faces. Coach Yoast was amazed at the sight, for his eyes were wide and attentive to what Coach Boone was going to say. This was the first sign of respect for the colleague. The breaths begin to slow as Boone tells the story of the Battle of Gettysburg. The confused faces turn into engaged minds. Soaking the words in like a new born baby soaks in his mother’s words. “They fought the same battle we our fighting today amongst ourselves.” The sadness in Boone’s eyes cry the need to be one. “Listen to their souls, killed my brother with malice in my heart and hatred destroyed my family.” Staggering in his walk to join his men he exhorts them. “If your listen take a lesson from the dead, if we don’t come together right now on this hallowed ground we too will be destroyed, just like they were.” The team stands together taller in humility. Coach Boone’s final words “I don’t care if you don’t like each other right now but you will respect each other and maybe learn to play this game like men.”

Childhood Memories

Sunday afternoons at the Bennett house were boring after lunch. My parents would read or write letters to my siblings who were away. I often found myself alone in my room looking at baseball cards, magazines, or watching TV. On one particular Sunday afternoon I laid in my room looking at baseball cards. I shared my room with my two older brothers. We were typical young boys, dirty, grotty, and smelly. Clothes were thrown all over, with dirty sports equipment piled in every corner of the room. The walls are dingy white with a one by four as the base board. So it's no wonder what happened really happened to me. My brother Ron was a weird kid! He would allow baby snakes to bite his pinkie. While I laid in the room playing with cards I noticed a stick laying on the base board. I thought Ron might have put it on there so when he looked for snakes he had a stick to take. After a few minutes I noticed the one stick is about a foot up the wall. I yelled, "Guys, stop missing with me." My brothers had a tendency to pick on me and beat up on me. So I thought they found some remote controlled object to scare me to death. I got up and walked closer to the wall and noticed that the stick was a snake. I hate snakes and every creepy crawly thing in this world. I ran out screaming and yelling at the top of my lungs, "Snake!! Snake!!" My dad and Ron were in the house and they came into the room looking for the snake. After five minutes of searching and tearing the bedroom apart we found the little devil. A black king snake, harmless and frightened by the racket that I caused. I was the person who caused all the problems for nothing. The king snake is harmless and kills other snakes. I would probably do the same thing all over again, regardless of knowing the type of snake!