behemoth\ bih-HEE-muhth \ , noun;
1. Any creature or thing of monstrous size or power
2. An animal, perhaps the hippopotamus, mentioned in the Book of Job.
As soon as I saw this word in our Word of the Day feed, I instantly remembered the first time I ever heard it used in everyday speech.
The memory is clear as polished glass; we were playing Turpin, Oklahoma, perennial state 8-Man champs. I was a freshman, thrown into the starting right guard spot due to a senior having to quit school because of getting a girl pregnant.
It was the pre-game warmups and as a classmate and I jogged to the back of the line for the drill we were doing, we turned to look at the Turpin team performing their own exercises a few yards away. They were clad in all-red* uniforms, at least 40 guys suited up. (and this is a "small" school). We were lucky to have less than half that number on our roster, and our uniforms were old, patched and faded white (yep, faded white!).
*I believe all the OK. schools we played had red in their school colors - red makes a team "look" fast and larger, while black is intimidating and mean-looking. As I said, we were dressed in white, looking like a bunch of skinny, fresh-faced medical interns.
Even with the mass of red-clad Okies, it wasn't hard to immediately notice a HUGE guy. The program had him listed at 6'4 and 265 lbs. but I think they were sandbaggin' on those figures. Now, these days guys of that size can be found in many larger school programs, but back then, especially in OUR league, that was a monster. I was probably a bit larger than avg. for most small school teams, 5'9" on tippy toes and 150 lbs. IF soppin' wet and weighed immediately after Thanksgiving dinner.
After staring at the guy for a minute, watching as he slowly shuffled to the end of the line in his own drill, I turned to my friend and exclaimed:
"Good - gawd - awmighty." I knew it was my imagination, but it felt like the ground was moving with each step he took. The pounding, I knew though, was my heart.
"The guy's a *#^%$#@*
behemoth." replied my friend.
He turned to me and then said: "I hope coach doesn't put me in tonight."
Those were my sentiments too, but I knew I was going to have to play on offense, at least, and I said a quick prayer that I wouldn't embarrass myself in front of all these Okies, plus friends and family. Mostly I wanted to get through the game without serious injury.
Thank the Lord I didn't have to play directly opposite of him. I still had to pull on certain plays and (attempt to) block him on trap plays or in some pass protection schemes. I had the best luck blocking him on the pulling plays; at least I could work up a few steps worth of momentum. Even then I usually bounced off of the mountainous "young" man . (I say "young" because I later found out the guy was 19 when the school year started and had turned 20 at the start of the season, legal within the OK rules at the time. Hell, the guy had a beard, a thick one that looked like it could be used in lieu of sandpaper! I was barely 14, barely had hair under my arms, much less on my face!)
It was one horrifying play that I remember the most about that game. We were running a play to the opposite side of the line than mine, a draw-type play meant to pull the huge guy away from the run...but it didn't work. Another classmate of mine, another freshman starting because of an upperclassman's problems (grades) was the ball carrier and was met at the line of scrimmage by the guy. My teammate was picked up like a sack of feed, much like I expect the huge guy had done a zillion times, and slammed on the ground ... again, much like a sack of feed.
Dave, my classmate, literally bounced off the ground, his head hitting not once, but hitting again on the rebound. Several of us rushed over to him and helped him to his feet.
He seemed to be all right, but as we huddled for the next play, he started calling a play that we didn't even have in the playbook. He shouldn't have been calling the play because he wasn't the quarterback. (He had transferred the year previous, and after later telling him the play he was calling, he said that was a play from his old school's team) He was led off the field and didn't return to action. At the time I was a bit jealous of him.
We later found that he had suffered a concussion, and no wonder; his helmet was cracked all the way from the top to the back!
After the game was over (we got our butts kicked, something like 73-0), the opposing teams met in the middle of the field and shook hands. As I got to the big guy, I shook his hand (the size of a small ham) and leaned my head back as far as my shoulder pads would allow and asked him:
"How the hell did you get so big?"
He grinned, showing a couple of missing front teeth, and replied:
"Eatin' a lotta corn and drinkin' a lotta whisky!"
I believed him. Wasn't gonna call him on it, anyway.
If this silly memory story was deflating
Go check out
What It Was, Was Football
It's funnier.
