How I learned to play American football

This is the story of how I learned to play American football. When I left Spain to live in the U.S., I started  high school immediately, and of course  I had physical education classes, which in the U.S. they called "Gym".  Because it  was the beginning of the school year, the first thing they did  did was sit me down to watch  a film about American football.  The film explained  how the game was played at a professional level.  I remember  the speaker was a man named Frank Tarkenton, quarterback of the New York Giants, and he talked a lot about how to throw the ball, which isn’t like a real football, instead it’s pointy at both ends.

 

I loved watching the film.  The ball spun, it had gyroscopic stability and this made it fly pointy-end-first, Therefore air friction was reduced, and this turned that misshapen ball into a leather bullet.

 But the "Gym" professor insisted that I focus on the players playing in front, what they called  linesmen, because I  was considered cannon fodder for the front  lines, and was expected to come to blows with the largest, fattest guys on  the other side. So I looked at  the art of it,  which seemed to be squat, then  launch myself like a battering ram to  give my opponent a huge boost in reverse.  After running over the first guy I found I was supposed to  bend over, run like a gorilla  and grab the guy with the ball, who would be trying to run around me. The move recommended by Frank Tarkenton required that I put him on my shoulder, lift him into the air, and drive him head first in the ground.  

 

This move  was necessary to make him loose his wits and  release the ball.   I could  proceed to throw myself  on it,  and then make myself into a ball (like  a turtle). The turtle position was important because soon thereafter about three tons of flesh would fall down on me to crush me and make me drop the ball.

As we all know, American football is a derivative of English rugby, which they in turn learned from the Maoris. The Maoris used to practice this rugby before singing something called the haka and annihilating their enemies.

 

So the British copied these practices, they began to sing haka and play  Maori rugby. Some of this  tradition remains in  American football,  but to see the wild roots of this game, one has to see how it is played in New Zealand.

 

Returning to my football lessons…I have a good memory,  I was almost  paralyzed in Cuba doing judo,  and I had learned to do  street karate in Madrid.  I was ready. The art of playing  football as taught by Frank Tarkenton was easy to learn.  All I had to do was push, give and take a couple of hits, and then an unfortunate lad had to be stuck head first in the grass until he dropped the ball.

So eventually came the great day.  They took me out of the film room to play for real,  after learning the theory. Curiously, they  hung flags from everybody’s  buttocks, something I hadn’t seen in the Frank Tarkenton film.

Oh, and another thing, I had come from Spain,  and I didn’t  know any English at first. So what they said in the training films and what the "Gym" professor explained sounded as if it were Polish.  So, to help you get an idea and  imagine how it worked, I’ll put down in  Spanish what I said, and I’ll use Polish for what the professor said to me that day:

Professor: “Będziemy grać tooball flag”

Me: “OK”

Professor: Nie używaj niczego uczyliśmy cię

Me: “¿Eh?”

Professor: Będziesz kogoś zabić, jeśli używasz, co cię nauczył

Me: “OK”

Profesor: Po prostu idź tam i spróbować chwycić flagę de off faceta w tyłe

Me: “Si, OK”

I thought the teacher would understand that if answered in Castilian was because I was a little tired of his Polish. So he shrugged and blew his whistle to start the match.

I assumed the linesman  position like in the movie, jumped like a battering ram when I saw the guy in front of me toss the ball between his legs, and gave him a phenomenal shove.   The guy was huge.  But somehow I was able to put my head into his stomach, and made him collapse backwards. Then I saw that the guy with the  ball running towards me.  I grabbed him and threw him head first into the grass as recommended  by Frank Tarkenton.

The guy dropped the ball, and I threw myself on it hoping all would be well, because I knew three tons of people were heading my way. But nothing happened. I looked up and saw the "Gym" teacher running towards me with a red face and shouting in Polish.  I had no idea what was happening. Then  he grabbed me by the arm, led me to one side,  and  sat me down, still glowering  giving me his little speech while I shook my head to calm him down.

Months later, when I learned to speak English, and it no longer sounded as if it were Polish, I learned that we had been playing "Flag Football". It seems  we had hung flags from our buttocks for a reason:  they were there to be taken as a sign that one had knocked down the opponent.  Symbolically, of course.

 

Eventually I learned to grab the flags like the Americans did. They were thrilled because they had believed I was a savage who wanted to cripple my oppponents. Eventually my new playing style and the fact that I learned to speak English like a native made us good friends.  Later,  I  learned to play basketball and to recite baseball statistics like Americans love to do, but that's another story.