Monday, September 12, 2016

A Science Guy’s Almanac. Coaching Freshman Football – The 2nd half


L-R. Top Row: Rookie Teacher, Kazooing Santa Pig, The Mummy, Basal Cell Carcinoma Eye.
Middle Row: Pig Farmer, Portrait by Cindy Lin, Portrait by Carol Mak, Baseball Coaching.
Bottom Row: Detective with Squints. Pig Collection. First Publication.
A Science Guy’s Almanac. Year 2. September 12, 2016
Coaching Freshman Football – The 2nd half

I never had a desire to be a varsity head coach. I ended up in that role for baseball and boys soccer. Those are stories for future blogs. My first head coaching assignment was Head Freshmen Football Coach. That was the last year I coached football.

Before you get the wrong impression, it wasn’t the coaching experience that led to my leaving football coaching. In the summer of 1978, California voters passed Proposition 13, an overhaul of the property tax system. The result of that vote was significantly less money to local schools from local tax money.

Prior to 1978, when a full-time teacher coached a sanctioned sport as one of the positions approved by the district, (s)he got a teaching period for the coaching assignment.
  • An aside: I put (s)he in automatically. However, in the 1970s there were very few women coaches. There were very few girls’ sports teams: swimming and tennis are the only two I remember. The direct correlation between the small number of sports and the equally small number of coaches was uncanny.

Prop 13 passed in June of 1978. The next day, a special school board meeting rescinded all coaching periods. Most of the coaches in the school district stopped coaching—some temporarily, others for good. While I never coached football or track again, I did coach baseball and soccer.

Being head frosh coach wasn’t that much different than being an assistant frosh coach. Oh, I was now responsible for calling the offensive plays, minimizing locker room antics, and a couple of other things, but for the most part, once the season got rolling, coaching was just coaching.

Monte Vista’s football program had a storied history—one horror story after another. In the first 15 years, no varsity football team made the playoffs. I doubt if there were more than 3 or 4 winning seasons during that run. For perspective: My freshman year, 1964-65, we won one game. That made the headlines in the 1965 yearbook. 

In 1966, the varsity team won the first league game in Monte Vista's history. Prior to that momentous event, we were zero-39 in league play. The 1966 team had some serious studs--two All-CIF first-teamers and one 2nd teamer. They made me, as the quarterback, look VERY good.



The 1977 frosh team ended up winning the freshmen league title. We were 5-3 overall. I refused to get thrown in the showers after our last win because I had to coach the varsity defense only a couple of hours later.

While I didn’t know I’d never coach football again, I’m glad I did what I did during our last frosh practice.

I was 27-years-old at this time. In my last tackle football game, I’d ruptured the disk between my L5 and sacrum. That problem had been “fixed” by fusing my L5 vertebra to my sacrum.

I’d told the team when we started the season that if we finished the year with a .500 or better record, I would suit up for the final practice. Seem like a good idea in September. As of the last practice, the worse record we could have had was 4-4, so the idea did motivate the troops.

On Wednesday, I went to Doc Headtke, the resident equipment curmudgeon/faux parent/great helper to coaches. I asked for a set of equipment.

  • “Why?”
  • “I’m going to suit up tomorrow and practice with the kids.”
  • “You’re what?”
  • “I told them if we ended at .500 or better, I’d suit up the last practice. They will. I’m going to keep my word.”
  • He shook his head but helped me find the best of the remaining equipment.


The next day, I suited up and headed down the access road to where the frosh practiced in the outfield of the varsity baseball field. I fended off the question “When are you going in?” uncounted times while we practiced special teams—who/how, the offensive game plan, and the defensive game plan.

“Okay,” I announced. “I’ll be the tailback for fifteen plays. I’ll start on the first team offense against the first team defense. The coaches will sub people in on both sides of the ball every play. They’ll do their best to make sure you all get a chance.”

That was greeted by a mixture of groans and cheers.

The first ten plays went off smoothly. Around play number thirteen, if felt like more and more defensive people were making contact with me. They were. The other coaches were adding more players to the defense each play beginning with the tenth play.

On the last play, I called for a sweep. The quarterback pitched the ball to me. I started out around the right end. I didn’t make it to the line of scrimmage. All forty-plus players were on the field for that play. I suspect at least forty of them ended up on the pile on top of me.

In retrospect, I’m very lucky that I didn’t reinjure my back that day. I’m glad I did it, and I’d probably do it again . . . if I was 27!

Next Almanac: Coaching memories continued

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My website is: www.crdowning.com

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