Man, joining the Farragut football team felt like trying to climb a mountain wearing flip-flops at first, lemme tell ya. I wanted that jersey so bad this year. Here’s how I actually managed to pull it off, warts and all.
Step 1: Figuring Out Where to Even Start
First thing was, I had zero clue how this joining thing actually worked. Nobody at home played football, ya know? So I went straight to the source: the Athletic Office. Sounds obvious, right? Took me two tries to find it – tucked away near the gym entrance. The lady behind the desk was nice enough. She shoved a thick folder at me, like, “Here, kid. Read this.” Packed inside was:
- The tryout dates: Late July, during the hottest part of the freakin’ summer. Ugh.
- A massive physical form: Needed a doctor to sign off, proving I wouldn’t just keel over after two sprints. Took a week to bug my mom to schedule the appointment.
- Conditioning requirements: Stuff like “run X miles in Y time” or “do Z number of push-ups.” Felt impossible staring at that paper.
- A concussion awareness pamphlet: Scary stuff, made my mom give me the side-eye when she saw it.
Step 2: Trying to Get My Butt in Shape
Seeing those requirements? Yeah, panic set in. I wasn’t exactly lounging around, but football shape is different. I started doing dumb stuff first. Just running aimlessly after school for miles, thinking “more miles equals better,” right? Wrong. Ended up with shin splints that felt like knives after three days. Ouch. Lesson learned.
Talked to a dude who made JV last year. Hung out by the lockers, kinda awkward, asked him what actually mattered. “Coach cares about sprints, man,” he said. “And he sees who doesn’t quit.” Lightbulb moment. Switched gears:
- Started doing killer wind sprints at the local park after dinner – sprint all out for 40 yards, walk back, repeat. Felt like dying.
- Bodyweight stuff at home: Push-ups, planks, squats. No fancy gym needed (couldn’t afford it anyway).
- Stopped the endless jogging. Focused on explosive stuff, like jumping drills onto the bottom stair over and over.
Step 3: Showing Up at Tryouts & Praying
First day of tryouts in July was brutal. Sun beating down, felt like an oven. Coach blew the whistle, barked orders. It was a circus:
- Running drills until someone puked (thankfully, not me).
- Catching passes with shaky hands while trying not to get blinded by sweat.
- 1-on-1 blocking drills where I got flattened more than I’d like to admit.
Coach wasn’t yelling much. Just watching. Hard. You could feel his eyes on you, seeing who hustled back to the line, who started dogging it near the end. Kept telling myself “Don’t walk. Ever. Even if it’s a crawl.” My busted knee was acting up, but I just kept moving.
Step 4: Dealing with the Gut-Wrenching Wait & Team Politics
The worst part wasn’t the drills. It was the waiting after tryouts ended each day. List posted on the locker room door at the end of the week. Heart was pounding like a drum. Crowd shoved around it. Scanned it… didn’t see my name. Felt cold. Looked again… There it was! Way down on the roster. Practice squad. Didn’t care, I MADE IT!
But man, even after getting on, it wasn’t all smooth sailing. Quickly learned:
- Being on practice squad meant mostly getting crushed by starters every day. Learned humility fast.
- Equipment was rough. Shoulder pads dug in weirdly, helmet smelled like death warmed over.
- Heard whispers about favoritism, about how some kids had an “in” because of their older brother, or whatever. Could be true, could be sour grapes. Didn’t matter. Coach saw me work. That’s what I kept telling myself.
How Come I Know All This Isn’t Just Rainbows?
Because I spent the first three weeks mostly being a tackling dummy! Got bruises in places I didn’t know could bruise. Saw a couple guys just… stop showing up. They disappeared. Probably decided getting flattened daily wasn’t worth it. Coach didn’t say much when they vanished. Kept my mouth shut, kept showing up early, stayed late putting cones away. Slow grind.
Why stick with it? Dunno, really. Partly pride – didn’t wanna quit. Partly the team vibe started feeling good, even sore and exhausted. Seeing the starters nod at you eventually? Feels alright. Point is, getting on the team is step one. Staying on, proving you belong day after day? That’s where the real work begins. And it ain’t always pretty, but hey, that jersey feels good.