Okay, so this one isn't embarrassing. It is, however, the final pic from high school before we get into the really embarrassing shit, which is pictures of me looking like an idiot when I was adult enough to know what I was doing.
The picture at right is the only known shot of me playing football. I love-love-love this picture more than I can tell you, a real cherished memory. That's me running option-left, steely gaze upfield to negotiate the defensive end, peripheral vision tracking the pitch-man on my left. If you look close, you can see my "rec specs," the prescription eye goggles I had to wear to see anything.
And, oh, what's this? It's a black-and-white pic, but that mesh thing on top of my practice jersey was in "do-not-touch" red. That meant, as a quarterback, they were not supposed to hit me in practice. They kind of ignored that. First, because I was a loud-mouthed, obnoxious dick in high school, and even my friends couldn't resist knocking me on my ass. Second, because my dad was the coach, he couldn't really yell at people for hitting me or it would look like favoritism. I would love to tell you Junkies just how badly I got my ass kicked in varsity football — every day in practice, for two years — but there aren't sufficient words in the English language to describe the punnishment. We had an exceptionally good team, made the state championship semi-finals my junior year, lost in the first round of the playoffs my senior year. Including those losses, in my two years of varsity football we were 20-2. My boys could bring some serious hurt.
Did I mention I was third-string? I was third-string, smart, and could learn the opposing team's offense in about ten minutes. That meant I was the "prep quarterback," which meant me and my scrub D&D buddies got to play the other team's offense in practice so the first-string bad-asses could get a good look and prepare for the game. Now you can probably imagine that my goofball D&D buddies weren't starters, which meant they weren't that good, which meant they couldn't block our our All-State and All-Conference defensive players for shit. Hence, the aforementioned beatings I took.
There were kids on the team that weighed 230 pounds or so, which meant at the time I was giving up over 100 pounds when they smacked into me. Physics was a dirty whore, and I did not like her.
Next week's picture is — thankfully — one of the few I have from college. If you thought my hair was retarded in my previous pictures? You're in for a real treat.