"Skreetball"

Not all high school football was played near the fair grounds. While some of our classmates put on pads and helmets to roll around the soft grass of Capital Stadium, the real men of Godby High were donning shorts and tee shirts for a game of “skreetball” on the paved fields of Great Oak Drive. Godby legends like Ward (Spider) and Marc Moncrief (the Concrete Brothers)  , Kurt Goerke, Ronny Dye, Ricky Sharon, and maybe the toughest of them all, as told in this story -  ME – Roger Day.

I had purchased a white, plastic football, with a battery operated light tube inside. It seemed like a great idea at the time. Now, dangerously, playing football in the middle of the street would not be limited to daylight hours. We could do it at night too!

Though, it didn’t have the fanfare of the first night game at Wrigley Field, the time had come for the first game of night skreetball on Great Oak Drive. The warriors of the pavement played all afternoon waiting for the sun to set and the lighting of the football. Anticipation and excitement reigned.  

As the sun set somewhere on Highway 20 (everyone knew the sun set somewhere between Lake Talquin and Godby), it was time. The gridiron gang, already bruised and bloodied from an afternoon of skreetball, went inside to quench their thirst and light the football. Once the florescent tube was paced inside the ball, the lights were turned off. It was beautiful!

Once outside, on the now dark street, it was only fair that I caught the first pass. Ronny Dye told me to take off and I went deep. At FULL speed I chased the badly over thrown glowing ball. In one final burst of speed, I closed in on the ball. Running faster than I ever had, I reached out, arms and fingers fully extended, and then just as the ball touched my finger tips… I came to a complete stop!

While we were inside lighting the ball, Ronny’s neighbor had parked a flat bed truck on the side of the street where we had been playing all afternoon. My chest hit the back of the truck dead center. Next contact was both of my knees to the underside of the truck. And finally, the back of my head was the first part of my body to touch the pavement.

I was only out for a few seconds and was gasping for air. Seems all of mine had left my body on impact. As my vision came back, I remember looking up at the semi-huddle of guys around me. Not sure who it was, but someone asked the others, “Is he dead?”

No! I was alive! I survived a hit harder than any Frank Thomas delivered that year and lived to tell about it. I wore a huge black bruise across my chest for the next few weeks, a cut and knot on the back of my head, and two busted knees. Looking back at the dizziness that stayed with me for a while, I’m sure I sported a concussion as well.

Yeah, in hindsight, night “skreetball” was probably a bad idea. But, the many hours of laughter and football on Great Oak Drive was priceless and will never be forgotten. I have the scars to prove it...