I can remember my first football practice. I was a 5'9, 200-pound chubby incoming freshman at Manasquan High School, who basically knew that there was an offense and a defense; that's it. I had had ZERO experience playing football up until that point, other than playing pickup games with my friends at the local park. I remember being very nervous, not so much about learning the game and the techniques needed to play, but more so about the conditioning. I had heard the horror stories of guys vomiting from how exhausting the running was after practice, and how they got so tired they nearly blacked out. I didn't know what to expect and I really didn't have anyone to tell me what to expect other than my Dad who hadn't played since his days at Manasquan and he naturally assumed that things probably had changed a bit in the twenty years that had passed. I got to practice and I was comforted by the fact that a few of my good friends would be there too and I had always been the person to know that if my friends could do it, so could I. I quickly fell in love with it. I loved the feeling of getting a tackle or rushing the quarterback. It was a high that I had never experienced in all the years that I had spent playing hockey. There was something so primal and barbaric about it that I loved, I could do just about anything just to attempt to make a play. Trash talk was tolerated, chippiness was acceptable and pure anger that someone would even dare try to stand in your way, was expected.

Football is so much more than just the X's and O's. It's a game that truly is like no other in that it's combat survival. You line up across from a guy that wants to put you into the ground and you have to do everything in your power not to let that happen. The hot and grueling practices in the one hundred degree weather teach you how to be resilient and how to be self-reliant. Communicating with the man next to you and knowing off of intuition that they have your back no matter what allows a pathway to forming everlasting brotherly bonds. Hard fought games that go until the final whistle allows you to embrace victories humbly and learn how to cope with defeat. Pushing yourself through rounds of sprints sharpens your mental tenacity and toughness. Getting put into the ground teaches you how to pick yourself up and putting someone into the ground yourself teaches you how to pick someone up with confidence.

It's a game of momentum; you have to learn to play the swings. Some go as far to say it's a game of life. Each drive is a push to success and sometimes you do and even more often, you don't. It's learning how to handle not succeeding that is important. You know there's a next drive which is kind of like saying there's a new day. It's a game of faith. You have to have faith in your coaches and your teammates to successfully get their own jobs done in order to succeed as a whole.

I give so much credit to my own personal growth into young adulthood to the game of football. It's given me this ability to know that there's always a little bit extra to give. It's taught me how to take pride in a movement and a goal, and how not to be afraid to step up as a leader. It scares me to think that people are saying football is a dying sport due to the head injury reports. I can't deny that CTE is a very real possibility for anyone who partakes in the game; however, I do feel that we can't be afraid to continue playing. Life is risky, you're far more at risk being in a car rather than on a football field. It's a game that I feel like every young man should try because it teaches you how to take command, and maintain accountability through the toughest of times.