In the book by H.G. (Buzz) Bissinger the Permian High
School football coaches don't come across very well. Their handling of
star running back Boobie Miles was questionable at best, bordering on
criminal at times. The Monday after a game, Boobie would find an
envelope in his locker that would contain the exact number of yards
that Boobie accumulated during the previous Friday night's game. In one
game he gained 216 yards in the first half alone. The head coach
decided that if he were allowed to run in the second half, he might get a
"big head" and begin thinking that he was something special. He never
played a down in the second half. Miles received money for being good,
but at the same time, his coaches wanted to humble him. Bissinger's new
book "After Friday Night Lights" chronicles the relationship that
Bissinger had forged with Boobie Miles and maintained for twenty-five
years after the original book came out. Miles, who was a D1 prospect,
was injured in a preseason scrimmage in Lubbock before his senior year
and was immediately replaced by a younger running back who seemingly came out
of nowhere. The young Boobie Miles, who had never really had to study
prior to his injury (his teachers all gave him A's and B's or provided
him with tutors who knew the answers to the tests he would have to
take), suddenly was told by an assistant coach that "he'd better learn
to study now". His test scores quickly dropped into the 40's, and he
was failing everything. The school did provide him with a tutor who
kept him afloat academically, a situation that allowed him to graduate.
His diploma, however, meant nothing to him, because he could barely
read it. Unprepared for the real world, he drifted from low-paying job
to low-paying job and becoming a father five times over. Eventually
securing a job as an oil-field worker, he made twelve dollars an hour, a
wage that paid for his child support and little else.
Bissinger speaks of Boobie Mile's basic humanity,
saying that Miles was, at heart, a good man. They became close friends
with Bissinger providing occasional sums of money to a man who was
obviously in need of it, and Miles providing a story of a man who seeks
redemption for the callous way that he squandered his talents and
opportunities. And, Boobie had a lot of people fail him. The school
and his coaches failed him in not holding him accountable for his behavior
and his grades. He thought that there would always be another chance.
Life, unfortunately, doesn't work like that. In real life you honestly
do run out of chances, often not getting a chance in the first place.
That is why it is so interesting to me to see the number of people in
life who fail to understand how incredibly difficult it is to get a
chance to play football at the Division One level. Over the decades
while working with kids, I have never failed to hear kids say that their
main plan to earn money when they are older is by being a professional
football player. Even kids who are small, nonathletic, failing their
classes, and failing to make an impact of any sort at the middle school
or junior high school level, believe that a call will come in one day
from a talent scout who will sign him up for a huge contract to play
football for the Seahawks, Giants, Eagles, or any of the other
professional teams.
I even had a kid once who could not be convinced
that he would not be able to play professional football. My
conversation with him went something like this:
Me: Why are you not doing the work I just assigned?
Kid: I don't have to do this because I am not going to do anything in my life except play pro football.
Me:
Football, huh? You pretty good? (He was pretty big, but it was the
kind of size that comes with too many bacon cheeseburgers).
Kid: I think so.
Me: Where
have you played before? I'm the freshman coach, and I know that you
didn't play freshman football here, so where have you played?
Kid: Well, I haven't played on, like, a team or nothin',
but me and my friends go to the park and play on Saturdays and that
gets pretty rough, and some of the guys there say that I could maybe
play if I turned out, cause I'm pretty good. That's what they say,
anyway. Besides, if I don't make it in football, I'll play professional
baseball.
It turned out that his baseball history mirrored his
football history, except that I couldn't for the life of me figure
where he would find a position to play on a baseball diamond. Picture
Jabba the Hut at short or second turning a double play.
The chances of a high school kid making it into the
pro's are one in 100,000. That is the number that Bissinger's latest
book offered, and it seems reasonable. The kids whom I have worked with
and who have, in my 37 years, made it to the pro's represent
a minuscule .003 per cent. That's much worse than playing the lottery.
That is also why the story of Mariner High School's KeiVarae Russell is
so compelling. Would he like to play in the pro's? Sure, he would.
In the meantime, however, he will earn a coveted degree from Notre Dame
which will gain him entry to a world which will be exciting,
challenging, and financially satisfying. He has known for years that he
will get from life everything his talents, his personality, and his
uncommon work ethic will earn him. He deserves it.

Bill Marsh of Archbishop Murphy High School. He's an excellent man who is a winner on and off the field. Look for Coach Marsh to develop the student-athletes at AMHS in the same way.
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