In many of my HELMET HUT HELMET NEWS/REFLECTIONS columns I have noted how important high school football was in the 1950’s and ‘60’s. It was important to the fabric of the town culture, in setting the tone for the social and academic year, and giving a central positive focus for the citizens of any locale. Being able to earn a varsity uniform held meaning because it represented a very high level of commitment and work, a willingness to sacrifice, and a definitive decision to operate as part of a team for a goal greater than one would have only for themselves. In short, football gave elevated status primarily for positive reasons and being on the high school team was truly meaningful. The thrill of wearing one’s high school helmet and jersey and jogging onto the field for warm-ups as the season unfolded, was a rite of passage and a significant milestone for numerous young men, even those who were little more than squad members who rarely played in the actual games.

I attended schools in two different towns in two very different types of neighborhoods. The school related memories I have are succinctly categorized and recounted relative to the framework that football provided. Presently my wife and I contribute a great deal of our time to the children of our community, and some of it is related to athletics and some of that specifically to the football program. While I chose, or allowed football to define me as a youngster, I came to realize that among the cultural revolutionists of the mid-to-late-1960’s who were my college contemporaries, this gave me an excellent perspective on the world as it still existed. There remained, as it does today, a place for hard focused work, sacrifice for a group goal, and an ability to organize one’s time and efforts for maximum efficiency. While the so-called Hippie Revolution was putting down the pomp and circumstance of football and mocking the stereotype of the high school or collegiate coach, I understood the positives and gravitated towards everything that came with “game day” and the drudgery of the daily practice routine. As a “scrub” player, practice more than actual games presented key opportunities to hone the skills of the game and engage in unbridled combat, leading me to develop a true love of the preparatory phase, something I’m sure that led me to the high school coaching profession.

I maintained my affection for the symbols of football and specifically the helmet and jerseys as I entered that profession. I had played Little League and Pop Warner football in an unadorned white helmet until I spray painted one of those gold and added a black stripe of electrical tape, emulating the great Army teams of the late-‘50’s. Junior high school and high school were spent in a Columbia blue, and then an all yellow headpiece, both untouched by striping, numerals, or logos. The college jersey, pants, and helmet were as “big time” as it got with a one inch center stripe and lettering on each side of our head gear that gave representation to the university and city as well as a posterior positioned player identification numeral. As a coach and teacher, I wanted the young men representing their teammates, families, school, and town to be proud and excited while doing so. As an assistant coach, I was “old school” from the very first day. I pushed to streamline the offense and make it more conservative. With man-to-man coverage the era standard, I looked at the young men on the first squad I had the opportunity to work with and campaigned daily to set up our secondary in pre-rotated zones. “Rule blocking” from my perspective meant following the rules of the blocking scheme to the letter and drilling the team until they could do it asleep and blindfolded. My first coaching situation was at an upscale private school and while the young men were certainly gifted intellectually, the numbers and talent were severely limited. The restriction in my next coaching stint came hand in hand with the challenges presented by a community where more than one-third of the youngsters I dealt with daily were classified as ADC or “Aid To Dependent Children.” In foster care, on welfare, or otherwise under the supervision of various state agencies, the school facilities, academic achievement, and often intelligence or emotional stability of the young men posed an array of problems.

If there were to be any “frills” it would come with the uniform, despite respecting the words of the immortal Paul Brown who had said that there was nothing worse than a bad team dressed in an attention getting uniform.