GUTS VS GLORY
BY JASON B OSOFF
All Rights Reserved
Text Copyright © 2015
Editing by Dawn Osoff
WWW.FACEBOOK.COM/GUTSVSGLORY
To my friends and family for all their support and encouragement. I could have done it without you, but it would have been awfully hard.
Table Of Contents
Prologue
The High School Years
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
The College Years
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
The Professional Years
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Chapter 93
Chapter 94
Chapter 95
Chapter 96
Chapter 97
Chapter 98
Chapter 99
Chapter 100
Chapter 101
Chapter 102
Chapter 103
Chapter 104
Epilogue
Prologue
As an athlete, you tend to remember important games throughout your career. You remember your first game in high school, in college and, if you’re lucky, the pros. You remember the game where you broke records, the game when you were part of a championship team, and you even remember your first big defeat. However, as the father of a young athlete, every game your child plays in is memorable. I realized, as I watched my son play his first game as a third grader, that it would be one of the many games I would never forget. Even though his team lost, he was smiling from ear to ear during the entire time. It reminded me of my many games at East Whitaker and how much fun Mike and I had.
The High School Years
Chapter 1
I first met Michael Upton in Kindergarten. We knew we were meant to be best friends because he was the smallest kid in our class and I was the biggest. The best part of our friendship was that we never had to impress each other or do stupid things to get the other’s attention. We were able to be who we were, without ever worrying about what the other person thought. It was different when it came to others, though.
Going into our junior year of high school, we spent most of our summer nights roaming the streets of downtown Whitaker. We never broke any laws, and we always came home on time, so our parents never really had to ask what we were up to. However, one night, we were approached by some of our classmates. They pointed to a car parked on the side of the road that had its windows down. They thought it would be funny to grab and hide the laptop sitting obviously on the front seat. As we were pondering the venture, someone mentioned that it wouldn’t be a crime because the windows were open so the responsibility would fall on the owner. Since it was only a prank and reasonably harmless, we were going to accept the challenge in an effort to gain popularity going into the new school year. All we needed to do was grab the computer, then put it back in the car somewhere less obvious. Since there were two of us, and only one laptop, Mike decided that he would grab the backpack in the back of the car so that we would both have something to hide. Both windows were down so we boldly waked over to the car, reached in, grabbed the items, took them out of the car and, as our hearts stopped simultaneously, dropped them at our feet.
The other guys must have seen the cops because as we made eye contact with the Becker County deputies, our new friends were nowhere to be found. As soon as the officers told us to freeze, I was done. I was the biggest kind in my class, so running was not my forte. Honestly, I don’t remember ever running as a kid. I was even nice enough to voluntarily lie down on my stomach with my hands behind my back so the officer could quickly restrain me. Not Mike, though. He ran. He was fast and made it really far. At that time, I had never seen someone run so fast. And, as impressed as I was with his running, I was even more impressed with the tackle.
Out of nowhere, a Becker County deputy, standing at nearly seven feet tall and weighing easily over 300 pounds, stood right in his path. In that instant, it was speed versus strength. As soon as they made contact, Mike’s forward momentum abruptly stopped and he was quickly taken to the ground. Strength won. The officer never ran after him, he just used his body size to his advantage and stopped him in his tracks, taking him hard to the ground.
If we were to plan that night out differently, we should’ve just laughed off the challenge and walked away. Also, looking around for police probably would have been a good first step; then again, we never were the smartest kids. Today, I don’t regret a single thing. That was the incident that would change our lives forever.
Chapter 2
We were literally right around the corner from the Becker County Jail, so the ride in the plastic coated back seat was quick. Mike asked me why I was grinning and if I realized that we would be going to jail for what we did. I told him that if he had seen that officer’s tackle, he would’ve been smiling too. Mike did make a good point about being faster than the other cops who were chasing after him though, which then made him grin as well.
Arriving at the Sheriff’s office, we were gruffly escorted to the police desk by the deputies. There, our fingerprints and pictures were taken. The big officer was curious why I was still grinning for my mugshot. I told him that all I could think about was his hit. My smile quickly vanished, though, when he informed us that we were both being charged with felonies; facing the possibility of spending time in jail, if not prison. Apparently, the car we were messing with belonged to the Becker County Sheriff�
�s Department and was used for sting operations. Clearly, it was a crime to take items from a car, even when the windows were left open. The news got even worse when he told us that our parents were on their way to post our bail.
I wasn’t afraid of what my parents would do to me. I was glad that I wouldn’t be sitting in a jail cell overnight and I knew that no matter what punishment my parents piled on, I deserved it. My parents were fair people who were always there for me. I felt like I disappointed them, however; like they had tried their hardest to raise a good kid, but they still couldn’t keep me out of jail. I’ve done crazy, risky things in my life before, but this was the first time the law was involved.
Our parents all arrived at the same time. As they walked in, no eye contact was made and no words were exchanged. The only discussion in those few minutes was from the deputy explaining what transpired and the possible consequences. Soon, we were on our way home. My mom spent the entire ride telling me how disappointed and upset she was at me. She thought she had raised me better than to steal stuff just to impress some kids from school. As bad as I felt, I was more afraid of my dad’s reaction. As my mom was yelling at me, he didn’t say a work. I know his wrath would come soon…but when?
After she was done, it was my dad’s turn. He produced the real yelling I had been waiting for. My dad wasn’t much for yelling, so I knew I messed up really bad. A few minutes later, my parents had even more bad news for me. They agreed that they weren’t going to punish me for what I did; which sounded great until they added that they would instead stand behind whatever punishment the judge had for me. A week before the start of the new school year, we would have to go to court for the crimes we committed, with the real possibility of a long prison sentence.
That night, I hardly slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I imagined what my life would be like as a prisoner. Whenever I opened my eyes, I felt my room caving in and imagined what living in a jail cell would feel like. Then I thought about my life after prison. I wouldn’t have a high school diploma, so I wouldn’t be able to find a job. I saw myself as a 30 year old, living in my parents’ basement, selling magazine subscriptions door-to-door. I wasn’t the best kid, but I knew my life had more potential than that.
Chapter 3
We weren’t the best students. How we made it to the 11th grade without repeating a year was a surprise even to us. Simply put, we didn’t like school. We always felt we had better things to do. School, however, would be a blessing compared to the option of spending time behind bars.
Court was very intimidating. The judge looked massive as he sat behind his giant desk. To make matters worse, his desk was elevated so that he would have to look down on us as he spoke. When he talked, he let us know how serious an environment his court room was and made us realize that we should take this trial very seriously.
The judge explained to us that he read our statements, as well as the police report. He understood that we took the items out of the car due to peer-pressure and were going to return them promptly, however, the fact still remained that we unlawfully took items out of a car on our own free-will. Since the items had a value of over $1,000, the judge could have easily charged us with felonious larceny from an automobile. The maximum sentence could be up to five years in prison and a $10,000 fine.
After the judge gave us a few minutes to sweat it out, his tone changed. He knew that neither one of us had a criminal record, and he accepted the fact that we were simply dumb high school students who gave in to peer-pressure way too easily. He decided that he wasn’t going to charge us with a felony, but he couldn’t just let our crime go unpunished. In an effort to keep us off the streets at night, the judge required us to join an after-school program. We were expected to attend the program on a daily basis and would not be allowed to show up late. If we didn’t fulfill those requirements, we would be sentenced to two years in jail.
It seemed like a good deal. Rather than going to jail and ruining our lives, we were given a second chance. But then it dawned on us; the school we despised so much would be our new prison. Rather than leaving at 2:30 with the rest of the students, or choosing to skip school at least once a month, we were required to stay after school every day. To make matters worse, it wasn’t a simple hang out in the gym for a couple of hours; we were required to join an activity that we weren’t familiar with and work with students that we probably didn’t like.
Not only would school be our new prison, but the teachers would be our wardens, requiring us to report to the judge on a regular basis. The other students would become our prison guards, making our lives a living hell as they no doubt enjoyed the after school programs that they voluntarily attended, ostracizing us because they would be far more talented than us, no matter what program we chose. Jail was quickly sounding like a better option.
Chapter 4
A week later, our sentence was set to begin as the first day of school was upon us. That day, the student body was allowed to sign up for the after school program of their choosing. The auditorium was full of eight foot long tables, each decorated and labeled for the club they represented. We didn’t know where to begin, so we started with the table closest to the entrance
The first table was the after school band program. We listened to rap and heavy metal music all the time, and starting our own band sounded kind of fun, so we figured we would give them a try. We were even willing to learn how to play the drums or the guitar. We were ready to sign up until the representative at the table started talking. That person had band nerd written all over him. Apparently, East Whitaker was known for their marching band. In fact, they had more people in the band than their entire senior class. That club was clearly for band nerds who couldn’t get enough of the French horn or tuba and wanted to spend time with other band nerds. Those nerds had been playing since the 5th grade and could out-clarinet us any day. Next.
The next table was the honor society. That group consisted of students that really liked school and had really good grades. Next.
We skipped the chess club, the key club, and the math club, but we stopped at the drama club. That was another club where our only concept of the group came from popular media. We loved movies and thought acting would be fun. Just like before, we were ready to sign up until their representative told us about his group. Memorizing lines and acting like someone else in front of an audience would’ve been a challenge, but something that we could have overcome. What we wouldn’t be able to overcome was the fact that we would be performing in plays where we would be wearing make-up, singing, dancing, and making complete fools of ourselves. Next.
We were out of options, so we took a walk outside. We decided that our only talents were Mike’s running abilities and my size. Unfortunately, those talents would be wasted in drama, chess, and band. I thought back to the big deputy and how he was able to use his size to his advantage without needing to be fast or athletic. Why couldn’t I do the same with my size? Then we saw them. Out on the field, with their dark purple helmets glimmering in the sun, the varsity football team was running, catching, tackling, and blocking. That’s when it came to us: The football team met after school, which would fulfill the after-school aspect of our sentence, while the field would be a great place to use our natural talents. Then, for the first time I could remember, I ran. We both ran – straight to the coach to sign up for the school’s football team.
Chapter 5
We soon realized that the football team was not like any of the after-school clubs in the gym. There were no tables to sign up at, and no advertisements for future members. It was a group that had spent the entire summer practicing together, and was not interested in recruiting new members. Unfortunately, that realization didn’t come until after the coach laughed at us when we asked about signing up.
Once the laughter subsided, he told us that he would talk to us after practice. In the meantime, we were invited to stay and watch. At first, we were very intimidated. Clearly, this group had already formed a team. They kne
w the drills, and had already begun working on plays. Even more intimidating was the level of skill that those players had. I was watching the runners knowing that I could never compete at their level. They were running fast, they were running hard, and they were even running backwards. Mike was watching the tacklers. They were knocking the tackling dummies into the next field. As a runner, he seemed shocked by the amount of force that those tacklers could deliver.
After a few minutes, however, our attentions switched and our optimism rose. I began watching the tacklers, while he watched the runners. He knew he could keep up with the runners, even though he was a few weeks behind them. I knew I wasn’t ready for what the tacklers were doing, but I was more than willing to learn. The more I watched them, the more I wanted to hit somebody.
After practice, the coach sat us down in his office. After explaining our situation to him, the coach said he would be willing to ask the judge if the football team was considered an after-school program. He then explained that we would be faced with the challenge of learning the team’s plays quickly, because the first game of the season was scheduled at the end of that week. His biggest concern was that because we missed the first two weeks of practice, which were aimed at getting the team in good athletic shape, he didn’t know what kind of shape we would be in. He decided that he would attempt to assess our athletic ability during gym class the following day. Since the coach was also the gym teacher, he would be able to pull us out of activities that day to assess our speed and strength. After that, he would know how far behind we were and what we would need to do to catch up to the rest of the team.
We were excited that the coach was willing to give us a chance. Rather than turning us down right away, he was willing to take time out of his day to see if we had any potential. It would then be up to us to prove our dedication to the team and our willingness in staying committed to the program. Our excitement quickly turned to panic. As we were shaking hands with the head coach of the varsity football team, he welcomed us as players. The next day wasn’t a tryout; we had already made the team.
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