You Say It, We Play It (Day 1)

The first suggestion is college stories. I already told the best one: my auto accident with Miss America, but there are a few more. And away we go.

March, 1988 – Lacrosse: Saint Joseph's University at Kutztown University.

I'm a freshman playing my first ever lacrosse game after being a walk-on to the squad (I was really fast as a young buck). My mom let me drive to SJU, which is a good 30-45 minutes from my home, and I volunteered to drive some of my teammates to the game. It didn't go well.

While driving southbound on City Avenue, I took the on ramp to the westbound Schuylkill Expressway. It had just rained, and the road was slippery. The next thing you know, mom's car is implanted in the guard rail! There weren't any injuries, but we had to get to the game because there were only ten of us present – lacrosse teams play with ten players on the field at one time. If I go home, we forfeit the game. Either way, my mother is gonna kick my ass, so I proceed.

You can tell a lot about a guy by seeing how he handles adversity. I cried like a wussy. We get to the field, disembark, suit up, and take the field. The referee walks over and asks when the rest of the team is coming. Our captain, John, said, "We're it." Lacrosse is similar to soccer in that there is a crap load of running. Imagine playing soccer with no subs. No fun.

The game starts, and John tells me that since I'm a freshman (and should be in tip top shape) I'll be playing midfield. I wish it would have ended there. As the game progressed – and we got more and more tired – our plan of attack changed. At the end of the first quarter, John comes up and says I am now playing defense for the second quarter. I told him I never played defense before. He didn't seem moved. After halftime, John tells me that I'm playing attack. Whoo hoo, the skill position! Attackers are responsible for scoring goals, and not much else. At the end of the third quarter, John comes up again, and I'm too exhausted to argue. He says, "I hate to do this, but we need you to play goalie. I need a break. You have your cup, right?" I said yes, and dragged my sorry arse to the net. Surprisingly, I actually saved a few shots. Not that it mattered, since we were already losing by about ten goals.

The game ended – mercifully – and we trudged off the field a battered and beaten team. In the midst of the exhaustion, the brutal loss, and the car accident, there was a bright spot in the day - I managed to play every position on the field in the course of one game! Not bad for a rookie.

Unfortunately, mom didn't share my enthusiasm when I brought the car home.