The Aches and Pains of Camp
Jeff Foley
Thursday July 27, 2000
“Once one part hurts, it’s like a chain reaction,” he says. “The pain spreads.”
“Thanks, Carl.”
It’s lunchtime, about two hours before the second practice of the day begins. The drive to Siena College, where we eat all our meals, was a nightmare. My one contribution to society might be this suggestion: Don’t buy a standard automobile if there’s a chance you’re going to partake in training camp with a professional football team. Or at least hook up with a team that holds all its practices, meetings and meals at one facility. Shifting is a killer when your legs barely work.
Siena’s cafeteria is packed with students. Of the roughly 100 tables in the room, only five are filled with players. While the students are energetic, laughing and flirting as they speed through lunch, the Firebirds are subdued, barely able to keep their chins off their trays. I sit with Mike Waldron, a fullback/linebacker also known as Chains.
“I don’t know how the hell you guys run eight or ten consecutive plays,” I say. “I did four against Derek last night and I could barely get off the turf when we were done. I’m still dying now.”
I stayed after practice last night and worked with quarterback Jeff Loots and defensive specialist Derek Stingley, running the same hitch route four times. Four repetitions might not sound like much, but when Stingley knocks you to the turf each time, popping you in the back with his shoulders, it’s plenty. We have a game against the Carolina Cobras in just three days though, and I’m an offensive specialist/writer in need of work. That’s why I asked Stingley to bring the pain. I want to be prepared if a Carolina defender hits me.
“Eight or ten [plays]?” says Chains. His normally deep voice goes high. Surprise shows on his face. “Try thirteen minutes straight. I remember my first game; I played the entire first quarter. I came off the field and couldn’t believe I had to go back out. Seriously, if somebody had handed me a gun loaded with six bullets right then, I wouldn’t have hesitated. I wouldn’t have thought twice about it. I’d have stuck that six-shooter right in my mouth and – BLAM! – I’d have blown my brains out. In the locker room at halftime I was talking to the Lord. I said, ‘God, if I’m ever going to have a heart attack I wouldn’t be upset if it happened right now. It’d be OK.’”
So why do you do it?
“People don’t understand. I try to explain it to my wife. My first love wasn’t some little girl named Jill. Outside of my family, it was football. It’s just a passion.”
Chains played football for the first time when he was eight, in a Pop Warner league.
“The first day of practice, I got pads falling out of my pants, I wasn’t quite sure how to put the equipment on, and it was real awkward. My birthday fell on August 3 and the cutoff date was August 1, so I was on the older team the whole month of August. I was basically in camp with these older guys that were twelve, thirteen, fourteen. So what happened was, I wound up getting kicked down to the Pee Wee team, and because of the month of practice I’d had with the older guys, I was just tearing everybody up. And at that point, it gave me something to feel good about myself.”
According to Chains, football had a hold on him from the start.
“My second year coming back to that Pee Wee team, I just knew this was the thing for me. That was what it was all about, just putting the pads on. I love the camaraderie you got with the other guys on the team. I love the … I’ll tell you what, I just can’t explain it besides getting that warm fuzzy feeling. I’m sitting there talking football with somebody or I’m out there playing, I get that feeling inside, like this is what I’m supposed to be doing.”
Not exactly the same thing I’m feeling. Maybe it would help if I played for a Pee Wee team?
Jeff Foley was a writer for ArenaFan Online from 2000 to 2001.
