Gut Rumbles

June 14, 2007


Originally published December 18, 2004

This story is absolutely true. I'm not making ANY of it up and I still have the mental scars to prove it.

I once was dick-bit in a high school football game.

That was the first year the athletic association integrated the playing schedules for local HS football teams--- the schools themselves weren't integrated yet, but we started playing a mixed schedule that year. I learned right away that some of the black players learned to play football differently from the way I learned.

They trash-talked a lot, which I paid no attention to, but they also BIT and PINCHED in the middle of a pile-up. More than once I was tangled in a pile of fallen bodies when I felt somebody pinching the shit out of my belly while somebody else bit me on the leg. White boy screams of outrage were common in pile-ups back then, as you tried to fight your way out of that shit.

A LOT of black players did it. Ask anybody who played back then.

One night, I was involved in the tackle on an end sweep and everybody ended up in a big pile. The next thing I know, I feel some bastard biting me on the inside of my thigh, and he's biting HARD. I scrambled to get away, but all I really accomplished was to change his angle of attack. He didn't have my thigh any more.

He dick-bit me.

Yep, right through my silver Jenkins game britches and right through my top-of-the-line Thompson's Sporting Goods jockstrap, that maniac got a mouthful of Roscoe and he was gnawing like a hungry dog on a bone. By the time I got out of there, I had slobber marks on the front of my game pants, for crying out loud. I never knew who did it, either.

(I suspected that creepy-assed #52. He looked like the kind of person to gnaw on a foreskin when he was bored. Ugly bastard.)

At half-time, I dismasted in the locker room and examined my wound. "Hey, COACH!!" I shouted. "Come look at THIS!!!" I showed him my member with fucking TOOTHMARKS on it. "Somebody dick-bit me," I complained.

Coach Boyd was his usual concerned self. "If you're lucky, it won't hurt when the right person does it in the front seat of a car. You need some tape on it?" Adhesive tape cured everything from a scratch to broken bones to complete evisceration in Coach's mind. There wasn't ANY injury adhesive tape couldn't fix. But I didn't want any on my tender pecker.

"No, I'm okay. I just think that was weird." I replied. I still do, too.

Does that kind of shit happen in the NFL?

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