The coaches were exhorting us to hustle.
Easier said than done.
To say my legs were heavy was an understatement.
We were wearing football equipment, and it was the final drill in our second practice of the day.
Wind sprints.
We had practiced for over two hours in the morning and, after a lunch break, we completed our double session with a late afternoon-early evening practice that spanned another two-plus hours.
It was August 1969. It was warm. Black flies and mosquitoes were feasting, particularly in that exposed area between my socks and pants.
I would go home with little beads of blood everywhere in that uncovered zone, not to mention all the aches and pains.
After running plays, doing tackling and blocking drills and a variety of other things, it was time for wind sprints, which were known as “ladders.”
We were divided into two groups: the backs and the linemen.
On the whistle, the backs would run from the goal line to the 10-yard line and back. On the next whistle, the linemen would repeat the drill while the backs rested.
Another whistle and the backs would run to the 20-yard line and back. Then it would be the linemen’s turn.
It would be repeated to the 30-, 40- and 50-yard lines.
Each stride became more laborious.
The coaches were threatening to add more sprints if they weren’t satisfied with the effort.
If one or two players caused us to run extra sprints, they would be the least popular players in the locker room after practice.
I felt strange. It was if I was having an out-of-body experience.
I didn’t think I could take another step. Somehow I did, even though I couldn’t feel parts of my body.
Teammates were vomiting.
When I got home, I used what energy I had left to inhale dinner and crash on the couch.
Then it was time for bed and another double session the next day.
Double sessions were much harsher in those years than they are now.
We live in a much kinder and gentler world of high school football today thanks to the public awareness of the dangers of heat stroke, concussions and other injuries.
The Maine Principals’ Association has done an exemplary job establishing rules to ensure the safety of our student-athletes.
These days, the first two days of double sessions involve just helmets and cleats. Days three and four consist of uppers (helmets, shoulder pads and cleats). It isn’t until day five that players don full gear. We were in full gear either the first day or, at the very least, the second day.
In 1969, teams could have unlimited physical contact, although a lot of coaches limited it to prevent injuries.
This season, the MPA implemented a rule that limits teams to 90 minutes of physical contact per week — three 30-minute days.
In 1969, we would get a water break. Maybe two.
But the coaches determined when we could take a break.
Some coaches considered water breaks a sign of weakness. Sometimes, the number of water breaks would be determined by the practice performance.
Today, players take water breaks whenever they want or at least every 15-30 minutes.
Things were much different 46 years ago. Everyone who played football went through it.
The water breaks often consisted of reaching a Dixie cup into a big jug of Gatorade, which was laden with mud and grass deposited by thirsty players.
The taste was funky but it was wet. That’s all that mattered.
During the hours between sessions, we did our best to get hydrated and nourished while also resting.
During one particular break between sessions, a couple friends and I decided to stay in town and allow a crab apple tree to supply lunch for us.
BIG MISTAKE.
We weren’t cognizant of the gastro-intestinal impact of crab apples.
In addition to the already many rigors of double sessions, severe cramps became a new challenge. Whatever weight we lost from sweating during double sessions was intensified by the aftermath of the crab apples.
Lesson learned.
Somehow, most of us made it through double sessions.
The last day of double sessions would have been cause for celebration, but exhaustion set in, as did the fact we usually had an exhibition game the next day.
As gruelling as they were, double sessions provided us with a special bond with our teammates and gave us a significant jolt of confidence.
We were challenged physically and emotionally like never before, and we survived it.
The sense of accomplishment was extremely gratifying. It wasn’t fun, but we learned to handle adversity.
The friendships made while enduring this ordeal together were special because of the scope of the challenge.
And, most importantly, it taught us valuable life lessons and showed what we could accomplish.
Unfortunately, the wins were few and far between. Nine in three years.
But I wouldn’t trade the experience for anything.