The entirety of my high school experience, I played football. I was the opposite of an athlete going into a sport where the most masculine individuals flock to show their athletic prowess. It is crazy what the mind can do for the body. But the mind can be a dangerous place. Arguably more dangerous than going toe to toe with 300-pound men who can practically squat a car.

By Nate Gosney

Freshman Year - Innocence Prevails

Photo Credit: Nate Gosney, 2018, Photograph - Freshman Chaffey High School ID Photo

I was a young boy with a barely grown in buzz cut with little to no understanding of how cruel the real world can be. I wanted to be a strong football player, and my first practice was just beginning. I ran as fast as I could in the cold early morning dew-filled grass, hoping to impress my new coaches immediately. The lungs filled with cold air and my asthma struck on the warm-up lap. Slowing down, I started to puke all over the field, disappointing myself and not looking forward to the rest of practice.

I debated quitting the sport all together, after one bad day. Weak mental stamina haunted me my entire freshman year.

The first game of the season, and I was surprised with a starting position.. But in the second play of the same game, I got the wind knocked out of me, and the coaches practically benched me for the rest of the season.

On the bright side, I was innocent enough to stay optimistic. I loved football and all I wanted to do was play. Too innocent to realize that getting what I wanted required an unmatched work ethic. Unfortunately, no amount of previous mental preparation could have prepared me for the mental turmoil of the next three years of my life.

Sophomore Year - When Innocence Meets Reality

Photo Credit: Nate Gosney, 2019, Photograph - The hair is now a little grown out, starting to show off my curls.

I practiced to have an excuse not to be home. Halfway through the season, something just clicked. I realized that practicing was not enough for me. I needed to dedicate myself.

The defensive end position was up for grabs, the exact position I sought after. I was with the starting Junior Varsity defense practicing and getting ready for our opponent and after a grueling month of complete dedication, I felt I was ready for the opportunity.

Game time came around and coaches started to pick out the players for each position for the game. Anxiety was running through my head, still unsure if they felt the same way I did about the work I have done. Of course, the last position chosen was defensive end. The Chaffey High School Scheme consisted of two defensive ends, one of which was taken by a talented teammate.

The last spot was up for the energetic Coach Jay to choose. Walking up and down the line of individuals to choose from, we make eye contact. He keeps walking, goes back to me, then keeps walking again. My best friend is standing right next to me, and as the coach raises his hand to point at who he wants, I start to burst with excitement, thinking he is choosing me to start in this game.

To my surprise, a wildcard was thrown. He chose my best friend who has yet to play the position at all. I have never felt more torn in my life. I was completely crushed that I did not get the chance to start in the game and would have to wait until the next season to even get another shot at playing in a game. On the other hand, I was excited for my best friend to get the opportunity to play.

I ended up playing some offense. I had not practiced it since my freshman year. I let out my anger on the little play I got in that game, and it seemed to show the coaches where my true position should be. In the trenches, as an offensive lineman.

Out of absolutely nowhere, the pandemic struck and just like that, practicing was now asynchronous. Now it was completely up to me to commit to the sport without any help from coaches, peers or school.

Junior Year - Short Season Equated to Success

Photo Credit: @abphotographz_, 2020, Photograph - The hair was in full effect, and the luscious locks were ready to be tucked behind my helmet.

During the summer of COVID, I knew that despite the awful things happening around the world, it was my opportunity to rise above my peers and show that dedication and discipline could lead to success. I dropped 50 pounds from the start of my sophomore year to the end of the summer. I was ready to truly become an important piece of this team.

Unfortunately, another roadblock appeared. A gut-wrenching heartbreak occurred sending me into a state of lack of self-care. My mental health was in shambles, and I went seeking help.

But the offseason had to keep going. As I was working out with my most athletic teammates, I let my anger get the best of me. After losing a few reps to a teammate, I started to play dirty. He did not like that. We brawled and I sprained my ankle in the process. It was nothing serious, but when you mix adrenaline, hormones and a brand-new injury, an emotional breakdown was bound to happen.

I have a bad habit of crying when I am extremely angry. To this day, it is hard to accept that this is part of who I am. After the ankle injury, I started to break down and cry, in front of all my peers, some of the best players and the team leaders of my class. I was deeply embarrassed and my feeling of masculinity as a 15-year-old boy was buried. I knew I had to keep working if I wanted to escape the embarrassment I caused myself.

I worked out five days a week and sculpted my body in hopes of turning my football career around. As the season rolls around we are wearing masks inside our helmets while still putting our best efforts out on the field. A little adversity has only lit a fire under me and it felt like the upcoming season would be perfect for me to thrive in.

The first game came around and I was starting on the offensive line but at tight end. In most football schemes it is the position technically not an offensive line position. But for Chaffey it was. Tight Ends did the same thing as offensive linemen, strictly pushing defenders out of the way.

I was on fire, playing well in every game. I completely dominated the opposing defensive line, even doing so well in one game, I coached up another player to play my position while using my strengths as a smart and versatile player to go play another position on the offensive line. I did this while also finally getting some action at the defensive end. I knew at this point that my future was on offense, but it felt incredibly rewarding to feel the fruits of my hard work pay off.

It was sad to have my best season only five games long due to COVID-19 restrictions, but it was pure bliss to feel like somebody on the football team. But I was still JV. Even though Chaffey prioritized seniority, it was still a confidence hit realizing that that my success was just a byproduct of my age.

Even with a good season under my belt, I still felt weak, lesser-than and not good enough. I felt like I was behind, still playing catch up from the mistakes of my freshman year.

My life outside of football increasingly got worse and with that, so did my mental state. If I could not be a good athlete, what else did I have?

Senior Year - Falling Short of Expectations

Photo Credit: @CHighYouKnow1, 2022, Photograph - Nate Gosney Clearing a Path With Teammates Behind Him

The alarm blared at 5 in the morning for summer practice. Since I was part of the offensive line, I had to go in earlier than everyone else, just to leave at the same time. I like my sleep, so missing half of every week during the course of the summer practices was my strategy to ensure I did not lose my mind. Though my work ethic had been so strong “senioritis” hit me before school even started.

Once school started, I was able to wake up at a normal time and the hope was that I would get back on track. The start of the season yielded results that even surprised me. I knew every spot, every play like it was the back of my hand. I even brought along some of the younger teammates, teaching them the ways of Chaffey football. I liked being an older coaching figure, but I had to remember I was still a player at this point.

In my first three varsity games, I started every offensive play against highly ranked schools in comparison to Chaffey. In the first game, I was starting in place of a young talented player, who had to miss a game due to transfer rules. I thought I did pretty well and earned the spot for the time being.

I was wrong.

That did not bring me down, as I simply used my versatility and knowledge to move back to Tight End. For the second game, I thought my play was very solid. I was far from perfect, but I knew that I was not a liability. The third game came around and I was asked to move around three of the seven spots on the offensive line. I did so with ease, not messing up the plays, or getting confused. Unfortunately, the opposition was too good, and I did not have my best showing.

I did not think that one bad performance was enough to warrant a benching, as the coaching staff was not one to do that, especially if it was an out-of-character performance. With the team 0-3 at this point, they were pointing fingers at the offensive line as the reason for a lack of performance, and I was one of the players whom they wanted to give less playing time, in hope of a new offensive spark. That did not happen.

In game four, I played a rotational role. I continued to work hard for the next few weeks, hoping that I could earn my spot back, even if I felt my “benching” was pretty unwarranted, since I practiced every week as a starter. Game five comes around, against the first school which we were ranked fairly against. A game where I could get back on track and truly show that I deserve to play at the full capacity like I did before. I did not play at all in this game, it was a crushing blow to my confidence. What was the point?

My entire pride in being a football player came from being a hard worker, as missing a day could totally ruin the sense of pride. I was finally mature enough to comprehend my emotions and feel the heights of them up until that point in my life. I would wake up every morning, sore and tired, after a game where I did not even hear my name called, it felt as though there was no point in playing the sport. Years of pushing my limit physically to become a good player pushed me to the edge mentally.

I gave myself one more week to see if it was really worth the long, hard hours of head trauma and cardio. This week leading up to game six, like the weeks before it, I was practicing as a starter as much as every other starter. The teammate who took my spot worked most days after school, so I would take his spot in practice. Just for him to come on game day and take the spot. This was just a slap in the face, I felt very disrespected and animosity grew.

I started to skip school, and in doing so missed practice. I stopped caring as much as I did since it seemed like they stopped caring about me. I woke up every day dreading football practice, even though I still had school before it.

As the next few games came around, I retained my rotational role and went with the flow of life, rather than trying as hard as I could. I still tried hard in the weight room and at practice, but nowhere near how I did a few months back. By the end of my senior year, self-doubt set it in. I did what was asked of me, and nothing more. I felt like just another player. I worked so hard to get past being just another typical player, just to fall back into that hole at the end of my football career. The season eventually ended, and this massive weight was lifted off my shoulders.

Reflection

The mental burden of football completely affected the way I viewed life at the time. My entire self-worth relied on how I did that day in practice or in the game. If I had a bad game, I was nothing, nobody, no one. Looking back, I learned so much from the negativity that was my mental health during my playtime. I would consider myself an optimistic person however, life’s greatest challenges can yield the greatest lessons. Dealing with adversity, understanding self-doubt, working hard to get what I want and lastly, hard work does not always yield results. They were all just a chapter in the book of lessons I learned whilst playing football.

From Pushing Defenders to Pushing Limits: Trench Warfare in the Mind of an Athlete