When I was in high school, football Fridays were days of routine. I was the manager for the McLaurin Tiger football team, a position that both helped me avoid the pain of football to which I seemed allergic and prepared me for a future coaching career. Fridays were the same each week that we hosted a game. It was this routine that led to a near tragedy.

After school, which would always include a pep rally at the end of every football Friday, I had a list of responsibilities that would carry me and our other managers all the way until game time at Tiger Stadium. I would get a few dollars from Coach Rogers and drive down the road to Thomasville Grocery to buy him a pack of H.B. Scott and five pieces of bubble gum along with a pocketful of Jolly Ranchers for me. By the end of the game, Coach Roger...

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