Second Day of Work

I didn't want to get out of bed this morning. Yesterday was real bad. I didn't want to go back to work. And not because it was hard. Because I felt like I was just in the way. Like I wasn't needed. Like I was imposing. I felt I was in a place I didn't belong, and I was just wasting everyone's time. The feeling was familiar. I had grappled with the same issues four fortnights ago, when I joined the USC football team....

It was a hot March evening, and I had to go to the bathroom. I and the other twenty-two potential walkons were told to show up at 5 pm, and we had been standing on the sidelines for over an hour, waiting for practice to end so we could take the field and prove our worth as D1 football players. Most of our time was spent puffing out our chests and checking each other out. 'Ya, I could take that guy,' was on everybody's mind as we each looked at our fellow walkons, and it was only true for half of us. Statistically.

Finally, the time came and we trotted onto the field. We ran down to the far end and did some quick drills to warm up our legs. Some of the guys were really getting into it, hoping to impress the coaches by getting SO WARMED UP! I took my time, going through the drills hard, but trying not to look like an idiot.

We finished warming up and the coach in charge told us all to line up on the endline. Specialty players (running backs and wide receivers) were up first; all other positions were second. We were running 110-yard sprints. The first group needed to make it in under 15 seconds; the second, under 17. And we started running.

I was in the second group, of course. Although I cannot pinpoint the exact position I would assume on a D1 football field, I can state with absolute certainty that it would be in the 'other positions' category. A broad category which contains positions as yet uncreated, for which the ideal candidate would be a tall, gawky engineer whose knees were in pain from the marathon he ran nine days ago. On second thought, maybe that is more of a specialty position. At any rate, I went with the slower group. And oh boy did I go. During the first sprint, I was near the end of my group. I'm not really fast. But as we kept running, I moved closer and closer to the lead. We ended up running ten of the sprints, and for the last three I finished either first or second, and I finished under 17 seconds every time.

The coaches gathered us up. We all thought we were going to go run 40-yard dashes, or catch some footballs, or at least sign some autographs in order to prove ourselves. But one of them just asked whether we could make it to a 7 pm meeting on the following day, and dismissed us, saying they would email those of us who made the team.

I was confused about the nature of the tryout, but I went home satisfied. I fulfilled my quixotic dream of trying out for a real football team, and I held my own. Hell, I thought with a chuckle, I might even make it. And with that frightening thought in my mind, I fell softly asleep....Actually, that's not how it happened. I'm getting carried away with the story telling. In reality, they emailed us at about 10 pm that night. I had been checking my email like a madman. I expected them to accept about three guys, five at the most. And I thought I might just be in that exclusive group. So when I saw the list of the fifteen recipients of the email, I was surprised, and even more confused. Maybe I hadn't made the team yet. Maybe the meeting was a consolation meeting for those of us who suck. Who knows?

I do, because I went to the meeting. I did indeed make the USC football team. What the hell? I never wanted to make the team. Whose idea was this? Anyway, the coaches told us what time to show up for practice each week, and gave us some forms and sent us on our way. Naturally, I had class during two of the three practices. I talked to the coach, who, surprisingly, did not offer to reschedule practice to fit around my classes. So I went home with a choice to make. After talking to my appointed athletic advisors, I chose to rearrange my classes and join the football team. Sure, I would be stretching myself pretty thin, but this was the USC football team! Given the chance to join, I had to at least try it.

So I went to practice the next day. I was nervous. All the walkons were. The players (which included me, for this brief time) showed up at 2:15 and met in an auditorium, where we talked about special teams, and the drills we would run that day during practice. After special teams, Coach Kiffin talked to us about the team in general. Then we split up into offense and defense. Being, obviously, a DIVISION ONE COLLEGE FOOTBALL LINEBACKER, I went with the defense. Next, we split into position meetings, so the linebacker coach Joe Barry talked just to us division one college football linebackers. After all these meetings, we went to pick up our gear for the team. They gave us literally everything we needed to practice and workout. Cleats, socks, underwear, shorts, a shirt, pants with pads, shoulder pads, a jersey and a helmet. IT WAS AWESOME.

I quickly went to put on all my stuff and rushed out onto the practice field. Adoring fans lined the way. No joke. I got into the practice field and milled around for awhile as the real players went over formations and defensive assignments. Then the team all gathered up and stretched together and did skips. After warming up, we moved right into the special teams game: Lions and Gazelles.

The first day was the only day I would participate in a special teams game. Granted, I was only on the team for three practices, but still. I watched for awhile to get the feel of the game. Basically it was a foot race with a little bit of agility thrown in at the end. Cool, I thought. I got it. I jumped in (or was thrown in, I can't remember which) against another white kid and readied myself. Because that's what you do when you're about to compete against a D1 athlete. You ready yourself.

The coach shouted go and we started. I turned and sprinted for the cones and watched in horror as my gazelle breezed past me as if I were standing still. I lost, painfully. The next time around, I was paired up with the same guy. His name is Jordan Cameron, I think he's a tight end. He's about my size, a little bit bigger. Way faster. This time he embarrassed me even worse, shoving me onto my butt at the end of the drill. It was part of the game, and he helped me up, but it was pretty bad. All the other guys were laughing and one of the other players told me I should probably just go and stand with the fans. (Yes, USC football practices have fans, and lots of them. Ridiculous.)

I spent one week on the team. I wasn't publicly embarrassed again, but this was only because I went to great lengths to avoid these situations. It wasn't the same game I played in high school. Not only were the players better, but I didn't know anybody. I wasn't part of the team. Add in the time I wasted during team meetings and in practice while I watched from the sidelines as the other players scrimmaged, and the resulting stresses on my classes and homework, and the bottom line was that I wasn't having fun.

So I quit. It was a tough decision, but it was the right one. When I told the coach, he didn't seem very surprised. He told me I could give my gear to the guys downstairs, and he gave me a firm handshake. I didn't give him any excuses, and he didn't ask for any. I just told him I was quitting, and I think he understood there were reasons enough. I turned in my stuff (they didn't let me keep anything!) and that was the end of my time on the football team.

Wait a minute, what was I talking about? Aren't I in China? Sorry, I guess I lost my train of thought. Back to the present. Today was much better. Granted, I spent four hours before lunch proofreading a company history booklet they gave me, convinced I could do a better job (and I can, and will), but after lunch, I asked for and was given some real live engineering work to do! One of the engineers gave me a part to model, and now I'm building it on the computer. I don't really understand how they made the part without a computer model though. It's possible they just gave me something to do to make me happy. But it worked, so I'm happy.

I spent over an hour downstairs in the gym, lifting weights with Diego and riding the bicycle and swimming. I think it did me a lot of good. We've been looking for a good place to do pullups, and today we experimented with placing the weight bar on a door-frame type place and doing pullups from the bar. The Chinese attendant in the gym didn't like this idea one bit and tried to explain to us why it wasn't safe. But we opted to show him it was safe by doing it anyway. I think it worked.

I want to thank everyone who reads this blog and has given me encouraging words over the past few days. I have great friends and a great family, and appreciate both immensely.

LOVE,
KEVIN