Barnacles And The Pier Piling

BARNACLES

I do not know about the whole ocean, but this particular bay is wild and rough – tides, currents, ship wakes, inlets …  It is enough to sweep you out to who knows where!

I know that some of my brothers have chosen ships.  Why?!  They are big, awesome structures.  And, there are lots of other barnacles on them.  But, I’ve learned that they scrape them off, from time to time?!

I am clinging for dear life to this pier.  Ships tie off to it, but they come and go.  Some untie and power away.  Some have been blown away by storms.  But, this pier pile remains.  It is driven down deep into the bedrock.

I don’t get above the water line, except at low tide.  Can’t see too well, since I am just a barnacle, but there is some sort of cross piece halfway up this piling.  Seagulls light on it and rest from their fishing.  They make an awful racket.  Means something to them, I suppose.

There are barnacle unions, and barnacle societies (secret), and barnacle books.  It’s all too much for me.  I am just clinging to this upright pole.

THE HANDOFF

THE HANDOFF

                It was the game of the decade, and for me, the game of my life!  The D&H Academy Demons were playing us, the JC Academy Saints, for the county bragging rights  They were 9-0 and we were 4-5, as we were far too often.  And, it was on their field, this year.

Some of our players were already giving up, before the kickoff!?  “… just let them win;  they always do …” was the defeatism echoing in the locker-room, pre-game.  Our senior star, Josh, growled, “HELL NO!  we will NOT roll over and die!  We will not GIVE them this game!”

It was a smash-mouth, bone-crunching game.  We, seemingly, could not stop them from scoring.  But, we’d take their kickoff and struggle back.  Josh would hit the holes and drag several defenders down the field after they swarmed him.  He was really taking a beating.  But, Josh was the only thing keeping us in the game.  The Demons hated him and took several cheap shots at him.

With less than 10 seconds on the clock, with us behind by five, we called Josh’s number.  Josh turned it on, leaving his blockers behind, taking on the Demon swarm alone.  I ran along trying to help, but was really out of the play.  He broke three tackles before their headhunter took him out with a vicious, targeting blindside.

But, as Josh was going down, he pitched out the ball to me on the one, and I tripped into the end zone.  The visitor stands came alive, erupting into a frenzied celebration.  The Saints won!  We missed the PAT, but who cared?!  We won!

Josh had limped off to the sidelines, watching as the team carried me off the field.  He just smiled in my direction.  We locked eyes, and I nodded, bowing my head, in a salute of recognition and respect.