The Diary of Michael Coleman

[FootballFreak08]

XBOX 360
Campus Legend
All-American with Fred's Sliders slightly favoring Computer

[buckeyeryan]

Hey there. I’m Michael Coleman, but everyone I know just calls me Tre’. My dad’s name was Michael, and his dad’s name was Michael, so I guess that makes me the third. Anyway, let me tell you how I got to where I am – preparing for the High School Football Playoffs -- and what’s about to go down in the next couple of weeks….





I’m the oldest of 7 kids, and we live with my momma here in Detroit, Michigan. We don’t have much money, and my momma works two jobs to try and support us. My dad – well, that’s another story. I’ll get into that later….

I’m a senior now at King High School. There’s a lot of fights, and it’s a pretty rough environment. My freshman year, I didn’t want to do anything at King. I hated school, and I skipped classes all the time, and was barely passing. My dad was still living at home with us, and one day he caught me skipping school. He beat my a$$ so hard and told me that I better find somethin’ at school that I was interested in or he would beat me every day until I did. I found the first thing that I could at school the next day – track – and signed up to try out for the track team.

I knew I was pretty fast growing up. I could always outrun all the other kids that lived in our projects – even the kids a couple years older than me. I was surprised though, when I went to track tryouts and I was faster than all of those kids, too. I had the cheapest shoes and didn’t know how to get into the right starting position, all crouched down and everything, but I blew all the other kids away at most of the distances. 100 meters, 200 meters, whatever it was, I was the fastest.

I didn’t really like all the practices, but it felt good going to the competitions and smokin’ all of these kids from different schools. My coach told me after one of the meets in the middle of the year that I had set the state record for a freshman for 100 meters. I asked him if I got any prize money or something for that, but he said no, just my name in some book somewhere…

The summer between my freshman and sophomore year, my dad left us. He ran off with some waitress he had been having an affair with, and left my momma, me, and all of my brothers and sisters to fend for ourselves. My momma went out and got a second job, and being the oldest kid in the family, I went out and got a job too. I was bagging groceries at the supermarket, and when school started back up, there wasn’t any way I could go back to running track. The family needed me to work in the afternoons just to survive, so I did what I had to do. I’d even skip school some days to work extra unloading trucks for the store, even though they weren’t supposed to let me work during school hours. I’d get paid six bucks an hour under the table, and we needed every dollar we could to survive.

The track coach caught me in school one day during the beginning of my sophomore year and told me, “You need to get back out to practice. You are a special talent, and we need you.” I told him there was just no way I could do it, and that if I could next year, I’d come back out. Of course, I knew that there wasn’t any way that the family would be able to afford it next year either, but I didn’t tell him that. So my sophomore and junior years went about the same – bagging groceries, watching after my siblings, and going to school when I could find the time. My grades were terrible, but I did just good enough to pass each year.

The summer between my junior and summer years, my momma got a promotion at the warehouse she was working at, and she told me that I didn’t need to work so much anymore. She wanted me to focus on my school, so I could get into college. I almost laughed at her, but I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. There was no way my grades were going to get me any kind of scholarship for school, and we didn’t have the money to pay for it. I thought, “Well, maybe I can get a track scholarship to some school around here.” So when school started back up, the first day I went to our track coach, Mr. Tomlin, and told him I was ready to return to the squad.

“Tre’, right now, your grade point average isn’t high enough to participate in any sports this year. The only way that you could get back on any sporting team at King is for the Head Coach of that sport to sign a waiver that states that they will oversee your grades and tutoring on a daily basis for the entire year, and ensure that your GPA comes up to standards. And I have watched you these last two years, and I know how fast your are, but I’m not willing to take that chance. I know how much you have been skipping school, and if I signed that waiver saying I believe your GPA will come up and it doesn’t meet the requirements, you will be yanked off the track team the next day, and I’m standing in front of the district board trying to defend myself. I can’t take that risk.”

Damn.

[buckeyeryan]

So track was out of the question. I guess no college for me….

A few days passed, and I was walking through the hallways at school when Mr. Tomlin and some other guy I didn’t know approached me at my locker.

“Tre’, will you come with us to the office for a minute? We would like to speak with you.”

I followed them down the hall, nervously thinking if I had done something wrong recently. I couldn’t think of anything that they would know about. We entered into Mr. Tomlin’s office, and I took a seat facing his desk.

“Tre’, this is Mr. Robertson, our Head Football Coach. Do you know him?” I looked at him, and gave him a bit of a nod. I had no clue who he was, but I didn’t want to come right out and say that. I hadn’t been to one of our school’s football games ever. They always sucked, and they probably hadn’t won five games total since my freshman year.

Mr. Robinson spoke up. “Tre’, I would like you to join the football team. We have had a couple big injuries already this year, and we need another player or two for our receiving corps. I am aware of your GPA issues, and I’m willing to give you a shot, despite Mr. Tomlin’s reservations. I’ll be honest, Mr. Tomlin and our track team are in a much better situation that our football team. I need to pull together a few more bodies just for us to be able to complete this season. I’ve got tutors all lined up for you, and I’m willing to ease you into everything slowly, but I think it would be a great opportunity for you to get help with your education, and to help this school and our team out. I know you are dang fast, and that we could teach you what you need to know. Have you played much football?”

I had thrown the football around in the yard and played a pickup game or two, but never had put on shoulder pads or anything.

“Um, no… no sir. I haven’t ever played.”

“Well, think about it for the next day or two. I’d really like you to join us. But don’t take too long. We’ve got a game on Friday, and I could use you as another body on special teams.”

Two days later – on Thursday – I walked out to my first football practice ever. The day before my first football game ever.

That first practice was a blur. I didn’t even know how to get my shoulder pads on right, but one of the other guys helped me out. A couple of the guys were laughing, wondering if I had gotten lost or something. I sure didn’t look like a football player. Just walking out to the field in full pads and a helmet was a different experience for me. I did the warm-up stretches and runs with the team, and was just trying to look like I fit in. I had no clue what was about to happen.

Somebody blew a whistle, and all of the players broke out into different little groups – lineman over here, quarterbacks and receivers over there. I thought that Coach Robertson had said for me to be a receiver so I followed some of the other guys over to that section of practice. The assistant coach over there just told me to run straight ahead as fast as I could, and the quarterback would try to hit me on a streak pattern. Whatever, I thought. I took off running when they said “go”, and I ran as fast as I could. The quarterback threw it, but the ball didn’t even come close to me. It was like twenty yards behind me, way underthrown. When I jogged back to the line of scrimmage, I heard some of the other guys muttering how fast I was. All of a sudden, I went from the weird guy that didn’t look like a football player to the “fast as sh**” guy. That made me smile.

At the end of practice, Coach Robertson pulled me aside. He told me that for my first game, I was just going to play special teams, and be a receiver on one or two “trick” plays, but I probably wouldn’t even touch the ball. My speed was going to be used as a decoy to start with, and then I might start seeing the ball more in the next week or two….

[buckeyeryan]

Game One

My first game. We’re playing Northwestern High, who is a pretty good football team, from what I’ve heard... I was on our kickoff coverage team. Basically, when we kicked off, I was supposed to run as fast as I could to the other end, and try and tackle the guy with the ball. I sprinted down there after the opening kick, and met the ball carrier before anyone else, but couldn’t bring him down. Looks like I’ll have to hit the tackling dummy if I’m gonna tackle anybody…

In the third quarter, we were losing 14-0. Our offense wasn’t doing anything, and our defense was getting burned by this receiver they had. Coach pulled me aside and asked, “do you think you can stay with that guy? Just stay in his face wherever he goes, and if they throw the ball to him, knock it down.” So in I trot as a cornerback. On my third play, the guy tries to burn me deep, but I’m right with him. They throw the ball my direction, and….I grab it! It’s an interception, and suddenly, I’m sprinting the opposite direction as fast as I can. I get a couple blocks, and I’m down the sideline for a touchdown! It’s like my body took over, and I just threw it into another gear. It’s 14-7, and we’re back in the game….

Fourth quarter now, and we managed to tack on a field goal. Only down four points to a team that beat us by 20 last year. Our offense is sucking, though, and I see Coach Robertson look over at me. “Coleman, get over here!” I run over next to him. “It’s third and five, and I need you to get me a first down, okay? Line up at halfback, and we’re going to pitch you the ball to the right side. You are fast enough to beat these guys around the corner. Have Jackson show you exactly where to line up, and then run like hell!”

I run onto the field as halfback, not knowing exactly where to line up. Our quarterback, David Jackson, points me to the right depth and says, “just catch the ball when I toss it back to you, and then sprint around the corner.” I get the toss, and run to the right, hoping to find a way past the first down marker. I turn the corner, and there’s a defensive guy closing in. He thought he had the angle to run me out of bounds, when, BAM – I turn on the jets and leave him grasping at air. I’m running as fast as I can, holding onto the ball with one hand and watching the endzone get closer and closer. I run into the endzone for a TD, and our sideline goes crazy! We manage to hold Northwestern from scoring again, and we end up winning 17-14…..

The next Monday, I’m sitting in history class when this kid in front of me turns around and hands me a copy of the Sports section. “Did you see this yet?,” he says. Under the headline, “Coleman leads King to Victory” is a photo of me scoring a TD. My stats: 1 64 yard INT for TD, 1 47 yard rush for TD.

Not bad for my first game. I might need to learn some of the plays, though…

The next few weeks were crazy. Between all my tutoring, and practices and home life, there didn’t seem to be much time left for me to actually sit down and try to learn the playbook. Coach Robertson told me he had seen enough to give me the bulk of the carries as our lead tailback, but I needed to learn the offense. For the next few weeks, I had 8 or 10 plays written on my wrists in pen during the games so I wouldn’t forget what was what. I ran for over 200 yards in our next two games, both wins, and I was feeling pretty good about myself. Momma hadn’t been able to see me play yet, because she was working so much, but she was glad I had found something to excel in. My grades were doing a little bit better with the tutoring, but my GPA wasn’t safe yet…..

Late in our season, Coach Robertson got the whole team together during practice for a pep talk. “Guys, we now have a record of 6-2. That as many wins as this program has had in the last four years combined. If we can win our next two games, we have a chance to make the playoffs. There will be some college scouts at these next two games, and in the playoffs as well. There are a select few of you that may have a chance to play at the next level at a Division II school, or even at a D-1 program. But we need to keep focused on the task at hand, and not worry about that stuff for now…”

Coach kept talking, but my ears perked up when he mentioned college. I hadn’t even thought about college. When I didn’t run track this year, I though for sure my chances for college were done. Maybe I’ve still got a shot. After practice, I went to Coach’s office to speak with him.

“Coach Robertson,” I asked, “is there a shot that I could play football in college? Have you heard anyone asking about me?”

Coach smiled. “Tre’, I have had a number of schools that have shown interest, and your raw skills are unbelievable. If you had been on the football field since your freshman year, you’d be a five star prospect. But your grades are still a concern, and your football knowledge is very limited. Scouts want to know why you still have most of the playbook written on your arms every game. You are coming up the learning curve, but that’s why you are being overlooked by the bigger name programs. If you want to play somewhere small, somewhere local, you will have some offers. But if you want the big name programs – Michigan State, Michigan, Notre Dame – to take you seriously, you are going to have to mature as a player mentally, you’re going to have to hit the weight room, and you’re going to have to lead us into the playoffs. Your body of work is so small, that every minute of tape we play is a step in the right direction for you.”

And from then on, I knew what my next goal was – State Playoffs, State Championship, and Big Time College Program.

[YoungWonda]

Sorry if I'm not allowed to post but this is looking great. You have amazing storyline and I was bummed to see you didn't follow through on your Ohio St. one.

[buckeyeryan]

Originally Posted by YoungWonda

Sorry if I'm not allowed to post but this is looking great. You have amazing storyline and I was bummed to see you didn't follow through on your Ohio St. one.

Thanks. I wanted to get a good background story going. I've still got a lot of ideas that will come forward in the next couple of posts. Tre' will definitely have some big decisions in the upcoming days....

[JonNCAA]

Very nice setup
Im excited to see what happens next
keep it up

[buckeyeryan]

Regular Season – Second to last week

This was the first game that I didn’t have any plays written on my arms. I had it all down pat – well, almost. We played Escanaba High School – a decent team, but no match for us. I only had seven carries in the first half, but had two huge runs for TD’s.






We were up 28-3 at half, and during his half time talk, Coach mentioned that my backup Brian Lee would be getting some significant playing time to rest me for next week’s big game against St. Anthony.

I grabbed Coach’s arm as we walked out of the locker room. “Coach, I need back out there. I need to pad my stats some more if the Notre Dames are gonna look at me.”

Coach Robertson looked at me and said, “Tre’, don’t worry about that now. We’re in the middle of this game, and this team has got to be my top priority. I need you well rested and in the right frame of mind. If you go out there and blow out your knee, you’re done. No Notre Dame. No Eastern Michigan. Hell, no Albion College. Sit down, Tre’. You’ll have another chance next week.”

I was pissed, but kept my mouth shut all second half. We ended up winning 35-17, but I knew that I missed a great opportunity to show off my stuff to the world.

[buckeyeryan]

Regular Season – Week of Final Game

I was still hacked off about not playing at all in the second half last week. I hadn’t talked to Coach Robertson much at all during the week other than at practice, which was unusual. Especially now that he is handling a lot of my recruiting stuff for me. I’d just go to practice, go home, and sleep. I’d been taking a lot of my frustration out at the school weight room, even after hours. Coach had told me where a key was hidden for the back door of the weight room, so me and some of the other guys on the team could hit the weights even when the building was closed. I was still pretty scrawny, but I could feel myself getting stronger. I hated working out, but I knew it needed to be done.

Wednesday night – Two nights before our big game. 10:30 pm. I was lying on the floor of our living room, half asleep, when I hear the phone ring. I figured it would be momma, who was still working at the warehouse. She is working the second shift there, and usually has to stay until about midnight. I grabbed the phone, and said, “Hello?”, but I could tell right away it wasn’t momma.

“Tre? Is that you?,” the voice on the other side asked. It sounded familiar, but nervous.

“Who is this?”

“It’s your father, Tre’. I…I was just calling because I saw on the internet that you guys can make the playoffs if you win on Friday, and I wanted to say that—“

I hung up before he could finish. I hated that man, the man who walked out on momma and me and all of my family just a few years ago. If I could have reached through that phone and choked him, I would have.

“Was that momma?”, my little sister Janie asked.

“No. It was nobody. Go back to bed.” I put my shoes on, walked out the front door, and headed back to the weight room at school to work out my frustrations.

[buckeyeryan]

Friday night couldn’t come soon enough. I had all of this pent up anger and frustration that I was going to take out on St. Anthony. I was more jacked up than I ever had been before, and I just knew that nobody would be able to tackle me tonight.

First possession: I took a handoff from our 23, bounced it outside, and took off for a touchdown.



Second possession: I caught a flare pass out of the backfield, spun past a defender, and took off for another touchdown.



Third possession: I capped off a nice drive with a 20 yard scamper for my third touchdown.



I was on a roll, our team was cooking, and midway through the second quarter, we were up 28-0. After our fourth score, I walked over to Coach Robertson and told him, “I can't come out tonight. I gotta play four quarters.” He didn’t say a word. When we got the ball back, I grabbed my helmet and started towards the field.

“Coleman, get you’re a$$ back here on the bench. Lee is going in.”

“What?” I was shocked.

“Sit down and rest, Tre’. Lee is going in for this possession.”

I threw off my helmet, knocked a bunch of cups of water off of a table, and stormed back to the bench. I knew Coach wanted all of his seniors to get to play tonight. And I knew that this would be the last game ever for Lee. He was a senior, and there was no way in hell he was going to play anywhere in college. But I needed this.

The third quarter started, and sure enough, Lee was back in there our first possession. Was I done for the night? I figured I needed to take matters into my own hands. When our defense took the field, I found Lee on the sideline. “Lee, I’m going back in next time.”

“What are you talking about? Coach said I get to play the rest of the game.”

“That’s a bunch of b.s. and you know it. I need this if I’m going to get into some college program. Fake an injury or something, but I need to get back in there.”

Lee never really liked me, and I knew that he wasn’t going to do this for me. Why would he? He was the starter before I showed up. He was the man – although on a really crappy team – before I came and took away all of the glory. Lee wasn't going to let me back in there -- at least not without being rewarded.

“What’s in it for me, Coleman? Gimme five hundred bucks, and you got yourself a deal. I’ll be hurt so bad, I won’t play another minute throughout the whole playoffs.”

“Deal,” I said. I wanted back in there, I didn’t care what it took. I knew I didn’t have five hundred dollars, but that didn’t matter right now. I’d get it somewhere, somehow....

“And you’d better pay up by next Tuesday, or I’ll tell Coach how you ended up passing that last History test.”

Damn. I forgot that Lee knew that I had copied off of the kid in front of me. Lee was smart. Slimy, but smart.

Our next possession, Lee took a handoff right up the middle. He got sandwiched between two guys, and he fell to the ground. The pile separated and he didn’t get up. Perfect, I thought. A couple of guys carried him off to the sideline, as Coach yelled at me to get my helmet back on. We’re only two deep at most positions, so there wasn’t any other option but to put me back in. As I jogged on to the field past Lee, he mouthed the words “five hundred dollars” to me where no one else could see.

I scored two more touchdowns in the second half, but it wasn’t as rewarding as I thought it would be.