bd0707
10-29-2003, 11:37 AM
This article and poem speak volumes. I contacted the publisher of this artcle and told him I belong to a community of 3A football fans that would never refer to a student as "worthless", and then asked him for permission to post his words on "our" site. Enjoy.
They are only boys
I love football games. Always have. The risk of playing the game never occurred to me much as a kid playing football. My friends and I played tackle football at the elementary school across from my house with boys twice our age, then got to brag about how we once brought them down single-handedly when a couple of those older "kids" went on to play at Texas Tech.
It gets in your blood and it stays there. With that in mind, I have to remember when I go to a football game that it is not my turn anymore. There is a new generation of players and there are the coaches that devote their careers to shaping those kids lives. The game is about them, not those of us in the stands.
Behind that is a core of devoted supporters who follow the team to every game and cheer to the end. Bro. Max Copeland comes to mind. These people understand their role.
And finally, there's the attention starved fellow that publicly declared that one of our players was "worthless" during a game two weeks ago. The Mustangs were outmatched by the team from Pflugerville Connally, but that doesn't make any of them worthless.
I had written this column to appear last week before getting word from my brother who coaches at Everman that one of the players on his team had dropped dead while running last Thursday morning. This boy, probably only 17 years old with a full scholarship to Texas Christian University ahead of him, was here one minute and gone the next.
What if the player called "worthless" would have not gotten up after he was tackled. Would he have been "worthless" then? Of course not. It's frustrating to lose, yes. But it's more frustrating to hear a student-athlete who is playing his guts out to be called "worthless."
After hearing this, I asked my mother to dig out a copy of a poem that used to be printed in the game program when my brother played and dad coached in Bangs. It was printed just inside the cover for all to read.
Maybe that poem could be printed in future Mustang programs. Here it is:
He Is Only A Boy
(author unknown)
Please don't curse the boy down there.
He is my son you see.
He's only just a boy you know.
He means a lot to me.
I didn't raise my son, dear fan,
For you to call him names.
He may not be a super-star.
It's just a high school game.
So please don't curse those boys down there.
They do the best they can.
They never tried to lose a game.
They're boys and you're a man.
The game belongs to them you see.
You are just a guest.
They do not need a fan like you.
They need the very best.
If you have nothing nice to say,
Please leave the boys alone.
And if you have no manners,
Why don't you just stay home?
So please don't curse those boys down there.
Each one's his parents' son.
Win, or lose, or tie, you see,
To us, they're NUMBER ONE.
Eric Bishop is publisher of The Highlander
They are only boys
I love football games. Always have. The risk of playing the game never occurred to me much as a kid playing football. My friends and I played tackle football at the elementary school across from my house with boys twice our age, then got to brag about how we once brought them down single-handedly when a couple of those older "kids" went on to play at Texas Tech.
It gets in your blood and it stays there. With that in mind, I have to remember when I go to a football game that it is not my turn anymore. There is a new generation of players and there are the coaches that devote their careers to shaping those kids lives. The game is about them, not those of us in the stands.
Behind that is a core of devoted supporters who follow the team to every game and cheer to the end. Bro. Max Copeland comes to mind. These people understand their role.
And finally, there's the attention starved fellow that publicly declared that one of our players was "worthless" during a game two weeks ago. The Mustangs were outmatched by the team from Pflugerville Connally, but that doesn't make any of them worthless.
I had written this column to appear last week before getting word from my brother who coaches at Everman that one of the players on his team had dropped dead while running last Thursday morning. This boy, probably only 17 years old with a full scholarship to Texas Christian University ahead of him, was here one minute and gone the next.
What if the player called "worthless" would have not gotten up after he was tackled. Would he have been "worthless" then? Of course not. It's frustrating to lose, yes. But it's more frustrating to hear a student-athlete who is playing his guts out to be called "worthless."
After hearing this, I asked my mother to dig out a copy of a poem that used to be printed in the game program when my brother played and dad coached in Bangs. It was printed just inside the cover for all to read.
Maybe that poem could be printed in future Mustang programs. Here it is:
He Is Only A Boy
(author unknown)
Please don't curse the boy down there.
He is my son you see.
He's only just a boy you know.
He means a lot to me.
I didn't raise my son, dear fan,
For you to call him names.
He may not be a super-star.
It's just a high school game.
So please don't curse those boys down there.
They do the best they can.
They never tried to lose a game.
They're boys and you're a man.
The game belongs to them you see.
You are just a guest.
They do not need a fan like you.
They need the very best.
If you have nothing nice to say,
Please leave the boys alone.
And if you have no manners,
Why don't you just stay home?
So please don't curse those boys down there.
Each one's his parents' son.
Win, or lose, or tie, you see,
To us, they're NUMBER ONE.
Eric Bishop is publisher of The Highlander