RE-POST- Story Time on Bryce Jones (1975-2014) Glory on the Gridiron I haven’t seen Bryce in many years. Reading the words of his passing last night triggered an avalanche of memories of Bryce. With the perspective now of time, Bryce comes to mind as one of the strongest people I have ever known. I have had it so easy. He endured so much working to fit in socially while confronting his health issues. He was adored by many and he will be missed by all. My memories of Bryce start at Margaret Mead Elementary School. As we moved through Junior High to High School, and I matured, my appreciation for Bryce grew. His challenges were no longer a source of teasing, but they were what made him so extraordinary, so different from those of us whose definition of adversity was in retrospect quite silly. As a daily task, Bryce stared adversity in the face and kicked it in its teeth. By our senior year at Redmond High School, in 1994, Bryce assumed an informal role as a school mascot. He was featured during pep assemblies waving flags and firing up the student body during the football season. There was one skit where he broke tackles and scored a triumphant touchdown in slow motion to music. I am not surprised at all to see a recent photo with Bryce wearing Seahawks gear. He loved the game of football. Bryce would play football during recess with us in elementary school. We did not cut anyone slack, we gave no quarter to the weak, but we let anyone who wanted to play out on the field. Bryce had all the heart to play the game, just not the athleticism. He did not play every day with us, but he would try. That was more than a lot of the other kids did. I recall a simple but special story with Bryce that took place almost twenty years ago to the day during our senior year. Of course, it involved football. He was in my “Team Sports” class. One week we played football on the main Redmond High School astro-turf field. I could tell Bryce was just excited to be out there on the turf where the High School team played. There weren’t many opportunities for the less athletic students to play sports once you get into High School. On this particular week, however, we were playing a pick-up game on the big boys’ field. I had an idea. I wanted Bryce to score a touchdown. I didn’t want people to let him score. I didn’t want it to be fake. I wanted him to compete, like I saw him compete in recess years earlier. I wanted him to feel the thrill of competitive sports. He could do it. Time was running short in class. We were near the goal-line. We were going to let Bryce go into Beast-mode. The first and second plays didn’t work. We lined him up too far back from the line of scrimmage. He wasn’t fast enough to evade his pursuers. I looked at him. He was willing to keep trying. That is sports and my determination grew. We were going to have to get physical. The teacher wasn’t going to like what happened next. We huddled up. The team was co-ed and many people did not even know why a football had laces. Needless to say, there was no time to explain the fundamentals of goal-line football. I made it simple. I told everyone to line up tight to one another and ram into the people in front them to knock them backwards. Bryce would be right on the rear of the quarterback and the quarterback would hand him the ball. Bryce would score in the space we created in the center of the line. I looked at Bryce in the huddle, “You got this?” I was trying to recall his exact words, but he was basically Oscar-worthy saying something to the effect of, “Give it to me.” A couple of us spoke and decided a few days of detention would be worth pulling this off if we got in trouble for pushing other people down in class. Guys and girls were in a tight formation leaning toward unsuspecting defenders on the goal-line. Those of us who knew the game got into three-point stances to get leverage to block. The opposing players who knew football also prepared for contact. I tried to line up across from a couple people who posed a threat to get to Bryce (and who could defend themselves). The quarterback snapped the ball. I charged forward crashing into two players. I tried to toss them to the ground, we tangled, and fell into a heap on the ground. There was the sharp, familiar moment of aggression associated with contact sports. People shouted as the sudden violence drew protest. People pushed against each other with people falling to the ground all around me. We had created a poor imitation of real football. Rolling over on my side on the turf I could see Bryce with the ball. Like he thought he was on TV, he had his arms crossed over the ball like a classic fullback would. A couple of the opposing players lunged for him. They were too late. It was textbook football. Bryce got low to the ground and half-dove extending the ball over the goal line. I jumped up to start a celebration. The teacher was not happy. He announced the game was over and to hit the lockers. Instead of celebrating, Bryce handed someone else the ball and started to walk off the field. I bolted over and told him, “Good work. You scored a real touchdown. Bryce, Spike it!” (I actually used more colorful language, but I want to keep this clean.) Bryce smiled. He slammed the ball against the turf. We patted him on the back in congratulations as we walked back to the locker room. This wasn’t a big deal, it wasn’t a real football game, but it was something that mattered to me and some of the others that day. We tried to give a moment to Bryce after he had given so much to all of us. I don’t know how Bryce’s life has been in recent years but I hope he scored some more touchdowns along the way. He deserved them. His kindness and devotion to his friends were extraordinary. Bryce left quite an impression on me and made me a better person. I hope my old friend Bryce rests in peace. My thoughts and prayers are with him and his family during this difficult time.
Posted on: Fri, 21 Mar 2014 00:43:07 +0000
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