Jeff Ward: After My Day as a 'Paper Viking,' I'm Just Glad the Iceman Commeth

That was the most fun I’ve had with my clothes on or off for quite awhile. For one day, I was granted the rare privilege of undoing one of my biggest regrets—not going out for my high school football team. (I weighed 122 pounds when they asked me.) And contrary to some of your rather hilarious Patch comments, it didn’t involve a single member of Delnor’s crack medical team.

Of course, my survival may have been due to the fact that the good Lord protects children and fools. When we made those practice plans, I had no idea the temperature would be 25 degrees cooler than our mid summer norm. And to add to my good fortune, they cut Friday’s practice down to two hours because of the previous heat.

It certainly is better to be lucky than smart!

As I nervously strolled into the un-air conditioned weight room, the first thing that struck me wasn’t so much the size of the players, but their height! As a 6-foot Evanston Township High School junior, I was considered tall. In that weight room, I found myself looking up a lot.

I shook hands with assistant coaches Dave Carli and Brad Wendell who introduced me to Viking wide receiver Ben Rogers, my guide for the day. Ben is also the son of GHS Principal Tom Rogers.

Though I couldn’t complete it quite as quickly, I didn’t have much of a problem with the abdominal workout of 160 sit up variations. But that wasn’t the case with the weights. It’s not that I don’t lift, but since discretion is the better part of valor, I left those 185-pound squats to the experts!

Then it was downstairs to the locker room, where coach Carli directed me to a locker with my name on it. After lacing up my spikes and donning the blue mesh jersey that designates the offensive players, it was time to hit the practice field.

We started out with some 40-yard, out-and-back repeats which were similar enough to my running workouts that I managed to keep up with the wide receivers.

But then it was punt catching time. In this particular drill, if a semi-randomly picked player successfully fields a punt, the team is spared the next 40-yard dash repeat. After the first player made a great catch, it was my turn.

The fact that the team's sprinting fate rested squarely on my shoulders didn’t make me nervous all—I'd describe it more like abject terror. Thankfully, when I misjudged and muffed the kick, a merciful coach Carli gave another more capable player a shot. He caught the ball and that was the end of the sprints.

As the ensuing agility and cutting drill progressed, a blown hamstring seemed inevitable. Apparently, that  month of practice preparation paid off. But then coach Wendell noticed I was dogging it on the agility follow-through, he let me know! I immediately improved my effort.

The “hands” catching drills weren’t a problem and, with coach Wendell’s expert help, the pass route running went reasonably well. But I soon discovered that speed doesn’t really matter it you can’t hang onto the ball—and quarterback Matt Williams was taking it easy on me.

Just as I was starting to get the hang of it, thunderstorms started rolling in, and we had to make a mad dash for the gym. Though I was disappointed by the deluge, it gave me an opportunity to sit and talk to the team as the coaches passed out the full pads destined for use at the upcoming annual trip to Broadview Academy High School just outside La Fox.

Broadview marks the official open of the two-a-day practice season—no matter what the temperature! Needless to say, I won’t be participating.

Considering he’s the starting QB, Williams, who’s earned a full ride at NIU, is one of the most unassuming kids you’ll ever meet. He makes playing that position look so easy you start thinking you could do it, too. I’ve played quarterback in a men’s two-hand touch league team, and it was of the most difficult things I’ve ever done.

So Matt, Ben, myself and about 20 of the players talked about football, running and what the team’s season upcoming season would be like. After the two-a-days and, once school starts, they get up and go to class, head directly to practice after the final bell, go home and do their homework, go to sleep, and then get up and do it all over again. And they do that from September to November.

Ben is being recruited by Ivy League schools, which means he can play football and excel academically at the same time!

“During the season, we spend so much time together we become a family,” Rogers said. It’s clear that’s already starting to happen.

There aren’t any egos. Even the weight room process was like a choreographed dance where 60-some players knew exactly where to be, when to lift, when to spot a teammate and when move on to the next station without a word being spoken.

That kind of camaraderie can only happen if you have committed coaches that set that tone. Some coaches may rule by fear, but these GHS coaches take the time to earn their players' respect.

Remember, we’re talking GHS teachers here, who, in addition to their vast student workload, put in the hours that make the Vikings perennial contenders. And it starts with head coach Rob Wicinski who, while certainly taking his appointed task to heart, never forgets that football is the means and not the end.

So when you find yourself in those Burgess Field bleachers (as I most certainly will), please remember, win or lose, every coach and every player deserves an immense amount of credit for making the kind of commitment that it takes to put that team on the field.

After the pads were distributed, I got to run a few plays with the offense in the gym and finally managed to catch a curl pattern pass. Coach Wendell told me they could use me at wide receiver, which made my day. We’ll worry about eligibility later.

I want to profusely thank Ben, Matt, the players and the coaches for making an old man feel like he was part of the team. It’s not every day a 52-year-old gets to strike that kind of blow against the inexorable aging process. Thanks to all of them, I will never forget my Friday practice with the 2011 Geneva Vikings.

But now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go ice my knees.