Adkins Winning Moment- Part 1

Becoming a Wild and Wooly Warrior- Part 1
1. Auflage 2019
ISBN: 978-1-5439-6673-2
Verlag: BookBaby
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, 298 Seiten

Steve Adkins wrote this book one letter at a time with his left hand , he was hard wired right handed before the strokes. He was not suppose to live much less be able to write a book. This book is about believing in yourself and having the will and determination to beat the odds in life.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Adkins, Steve

Adkins, Paul

Adkins, Danial

Leseproben

Chapter 13

Christmas came and went. Susan was two years old and growing by the day. Dad was working all the time, Mom was raising us, Mike was being Mike, and I was trying to make my way into a sports game. In March of 1959, I turned five. It was time for something to give.

I wanted to show the kids around the block that I was just as much of an athlete as they were, regardless of how small I was. Not being allowed to join in with the older kids playing more physical sports was my only issue. I guess I forgot to mention to this point that they played everything full steam ahead: football was in pads; basketball was street ball; and there was no tee in baseball.

Although I was persistent in my efforts, I didn’t get anywhere. A proverb by William Edward Hickson that I heard a long time ago is a good lesson to learn and is in alignment with my efforts.

’Tis a lesson you should heed:

Try, try, try again.

If at first you don’t succeed,

Try, try, try again.

I guess I put a twist on it because, at the time, my version was more like If at first you don’t succeed, try, try, try something else.

I had heard about track and field. This occurred when I overheard my uncles talking about how the United States dominated in the 1956 Olympics. Bobby Morrow had won multiple events where all he did was run. I didn’t need permission to run. I did it every day, and I surely wasn’t going to get hurt. I was knee high to a grasshopper and running wasn’t in style yet. Nevertheless, I decided to go for a run.

I decided to run around the block. So, off I went past the Larrews’, the Whites’, the Parrots’, the Henrys’, the Greens’, the Conners’, the Daniels’, up the alley, and back to the beginning. The new Converse I got for my birthday were smoldering after the first lap. I caught the attention of the neighborhood kids, and they watched with delight as I kept going.

They wore away more of the footpath in the Henrys’ yard as they ran back and forth keeping up with my progress. I ended up doing eight laps—a Herculean effort and a record if only for a day. At the same time, I had completed my first sporting event, even if there were no other competitors. The cheers of my friends made me feel like a superhero. I was hooked!

The next couple of weeks yielded the same outcome in my attempt to play sports with the other kids. I didn’t have much time to worry about that due to the fact that Easter Sunday was on the twenty-ninth of March that year, and I had to help my family prepare for the festivities. Before Walmart, we had Zayre, among other department stores. We shopped there sometimes and decided to go there to get a few things to take to my family’s house for Easter Sunday. Zayre was a discount department store, which led Grandmother Bee to shop there exclusively. She couldn’t get enough of the place. Anytime there was something to buy, she went to Zayre, and sometimes I was fortunate enough to go with her. I loved to see all of the random things they had that caught my eye.

When we got to the family Easter event, we walked in and did our usual. After we ate, it was on to my favorite part.

“Happy Easter!” said Bee.

She then presented us with a forest-green canvas tent as a gift. It was a secondhand army tent that Zayre had had on special. I still remember the smell of the canvas. It was a huge tent—at least six feet high and ten feet long. It was made for four people, and the last thing to do was try it out.

That night, we invited all of our neighborhood buddies and set up shop in the backyard by the swing set, easily the best spot for a backyard camp-out. The whole night was great, but one part in particular was my favorite.

At about eight o’clock, my mom called me up to the house. Once I was inside, she and Dad told me to sit down. I could tell it was something as Mom started talking.

She said, “Your aunt gave you something at Easter dinner, but I didn’t know whether or not to give it to you yet. I asked her about a week ago if she had anything lying around that you have been in need of. I didn’t think she would come up with something so quickly, but I talked it over with your dad, and it is in your room on your bed. Go check it out.”

She sounded excited for me, so I ran down the hallway as fast as I could and flung the door open. To my amazement, there on my bed was a full set of football pads, accompanied by a uniform and cleats.

I was elated.

I hooted and hollered and ran back out and hugged Mom and Dad. I felt like putting them on right then and there and running out and showing everyone. Mom and Dad told me not to tell anyone. Mike had told them that the guys were going to play the next day around lunch when my mother had planned to take me to get a haircut so that I wouldn’t get upset. Everyone knew how badly I had wanted to play, and they were my friends, so it was their way of looking out for me. She told me that we would move my haircut to the next week and then said I could play for the first time the next day and surprise everyone.

So, that’s exactly what I did.

I went back outside to a campfire and everyone lying around just inside the tent. With a smile on my face, I joined the rest of the guys and found myself in deep thought about my first backyard football game. At about midnight, a grossly inebriated man got out of a car at the corner of the street. On his way home through the alley behind our house, he kind of tripped over a tent stake as he went by. In fact, he nearly knocked the whole tent down.

Everyone happened to be awake except for me.

I had fallen asleep thinking about the next day.

There was a mad scramble as everyone tried to get out of the tent. He sure did choose the wrong night to rudely interrupt a camp-out. Once I was awake, I started thinking about my new football attire again. I was ready to tackle anything and everything. So, I led the rest of the pack in a foot chase after the guy. It looked like the villagers chasing the monster of Frankenstein; only, the villagers were on average five years old and just over four feet tall. We never did catch him, but we sure did give it our best effort. To the tune of three laps around the block to be exact, which was nothing for a record setter like me.

It was time to properly enter the next phase of my athletic career. Ultimately, that meant starting it. Watching the games on television and the guys in the neighborhood just wouldn’t cut it anymore. I was so intrigued by the reactions of the fans at sporting events I watched when their favorite players made incredible plays. I got a taste of it during my run, but it wasn’t enough. All sports drew the same reaction, but football was my main interest.

Thoughts would go racing through my mind. Catching the ball, tackling a guy, learning how to play. Even scoring a touchdown in front of a huge crowd. I had never in my life been so excited about something. I knew I would be capable. I knew I was better than most at the other games we played. It was finally time for me to show everyone what I was all about. It was all I could think about, and the time had come to actually take part.

The Awakening

Tuesday, May 6 – Monday, May 12, 2008

Northwest Georgia – Chattanooga, Tennessee

Fifty-four Years Old

It bewilders me that on Tuesday, May 6, 2008, at fifty-four years old, standing at six feet three and weighing 268 pounds—and being a regular madman in the gym—that I could also have had some type of serious health concern. I guess I have always felt a bit invincible and had something killed me, it would have happened in my most invincible days somewhere between the ages of eighteen and twenty-eight. It had worried me, to say the least, since the previous Saturday. A lot of my conscious thoughts had been dedicated to it. The previous day at work, I could barely focus on brokering, although I pulled out a pretty strong day for a few clients as the market closed at four o’clock. Driving up to Calhoun High School’s soccer practice, where I was a coach, I sat in silence, as I usually did, deep in thought about what could be going on with me.

I determined at what point to ask around. I called a few folks I knew, and that is what led me to determining which doctors to line up an appointment with. I’m an optimist, and under further recommendations, I decided my first appointment would be with my eye doctor. The issue, after all, was double vision. I know that I passed out, but realistically, that could have been due to trying to be active while experiencing such intense double vision.

I couldn’t afford for this to be something more than an irregularity with my eyes or some such thing.

Control in situations has always been my strong suit. I am a conqueror. Life has rarely presented me with a situation I couldn’t handle and never one that I couldn’t overcome. When I had the double vision and was unable to do what I wanted to, that was the scariest part for me because...