It seems we are seeing college football players being suspended for “the first half of games” for various things these days. The incidents range in severity from purposely stepping or stomping on opponents during games to saying inappropriate things in public. I even noticed where a high school team suspended a large number of their players for a half and some for a full game for raiding an opposing team’s concession stand, taking cokes and candy before a game the previous week.
In the “candy raid,” 19 players in total were punished. Coaches and school administrators make these decisions; it is their job. I trust that these folks make good decisions.
If my high school team were to have lost 19 players, we would have not been able to play. In terms of players, we would dress in the low twenties on a good night and were sometimes known as “the mean 13” late in the season when injuries and grades would sideline some of our players.
The internet has allowed me to sit in Virginia on Friday nights and listen to my high school team play football back home in Alabama. It’s something I look forward to doing each week.
My high school, the Donoho School, is a college-prep school located in Anniston, Alabama and quite honestly over the last 40 years has had more bad and average seasons in football than good. It is better known for a challenging academic curriculum that generates much higher than average college entrance exam scores. The graduates are then accepted and attend some of the top universities in the country.
With somewhere between 20 and 30 students per grade, almost every student is either playing football, playing in the band or being a cheerleader. Honestly, that is the way it should be.
It seems my little school’s football relevance has been improving over the last few years with wins becoming more and more frequent. This year, after 8 weeks, the team is still undefeated.
With this success, comes more accolades. Accolades like getting to be part of the featured game that is streamed live over the internet by the local television folks. This was good news. I was going to get to watch my team, rather than just listen to the radio broadcast. I was excited and planned my Friday night around “the game” which would determine the Region Champions for this year.
Two undefeated teams and one of them was “mine.”
After finding out that a couple of my classmates who played high school football with me were going to the game, I was even more excited. I could watch the game over the internet and talk to them on the phone.
We stayed on the phone the whole first half. They were handing the phone back and forth and taking turns talking to me. It was a lot of fun.
At halftime, they said they were “going to get on television, so I could see their sign.” I said, “Ok, that sounds great.” They worked their way over to the press box where one of the cameras was located. They talked the cameraman into putting them on television.
I was still on the phone, the broadcast was delayed about ten seconds. They were both saying, “Do you see our sign?”
When I did see “their sign” – I lost it…
Their sign said, “Play Lee Bartholomew.”
They were the only folks in that stadium who knew who “Lee Bartholomew” was or should I say – knew the story of Lee Bartholomew.
Lee Bartholomew was a fellow who kept me from playing the first half of a junior varsity football game back in the fall of 1978 in Piedmont, Alabama. It was only for a half, but it was still kind of his fault.
It was before the game even started. The crowd of probably less than 50 was sitting around in the bleachers getting ready for the game to start. The folks in the press box had sent a lady down to get the names and numbers of all of our players so they could call our names out over the loud speaker as we were slammed into the dying grass by the “Bulldogs.” The school we were playing had about four times as many students as ours and at the time, a much heftier football reputation.
I guess they also needed names to “notify our next of kin” in case the beating got out of hand.
The lady got to me and asked me my name – I told her. I also got the brilliantly stupid idea of “inventing a player.” It seemed innocent enough at the time. On the spur of the moment, perhaps in advance retribution of getting smeared into the dead grass, I told the lady “Lee Bartholomew is number 26, he’s in the bathroom.”
Before the game started, they went down the roster and sure enough, they called, “Lee Bartholomew, number 26.”
Our coach got mad. He told me I couldn’t play for the first half. Now, after 36 years and seeing what is going on today; I can honestly say that players do MUCH WORSE and only have to sit out a half.
One of my former teammates always seems to want to remind me that “with Lee in the game” in the first half, we were down 12-0. In the second half when you “replaced Lee” we scored and cut the score to 12-8. The game ended with us about to score again. We actually had a good chance to win the game.
I’m pretty sure my old teammate is telling me in a nice way that Lee and I cost us the chance to beat a big bunch of Bulldogs.
We live and learn by our mistakes, but sometimes our make-believe friends (and players) stay with us the rest of our lives. Thanks to my real friends, I will never get to forget Lee Bartholomew.
The sign still made me happy and I was even happier watching the second half of the game on the internet. My school came back from an 8-7 halftime deficit, defeating the Purple Devils of Ragland 27-8 winning the 2014 Regional Championship. Maybe they did put Lee Bartholomew in; I’ve heard he’s a big ol’ boy.
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Cranks My Tractor
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I'm BN Heard and I like semicolons, dogs and friends who won't let you forget your stupid mistakes.
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