Andress Football

I worked as an equipment manager for the football team at Andress High School my sophomore and junior years.

My good friend David had already signed up, and one day while we played basketball at the park, he asked if I wanted to join him. It sounded like fun, and also like something that was out of reach. I’d gone to the games since that time in 2nd grade when we got discounted tickets at Newman Elementary next door. That was against El Paso High, and we lost huge that year if I remember correctly. I recall wind and rain that night, so it was pretty crappy in more ways than one. Anyhow, it seemed like a good time and a chance to be around Andress football.

But it came about. There were four of us my first year—two seniors, David (a junior) and me. I might have been 135 pounds soaking wet, and maybe 5’8” or so. I just remember lugging sled dummies back into the garage from wherever the linemen pushed the sled, which typically was as far away as possible. The fire hoses which marked the lines of scrimmage weren’t too bad, just unwieldy. David could carry one on his shoulder and another one in his hand and not appear to have too much trouble. I just tried to time it to where I didn’t have to lug another one.

As for gamedays, things started the day before when we organized the jerseys by tens to give to the players. At the stadium, our job involved many elements. Place the footballs for warm-ups, have the toolbox ready in case a face mask, cheek pad or chin strap needed work; making sure the kicking tees got to the kicker punctually, as well as dashing out for the orange tee once the kickoff team took care of business. Postgame, we’d get the jerseys back and all our equipment back in the ‘cage,’ and things like that. The stadium was darkened and the crowd long gone by the time we went home.

I don’t remember much about our preparation or work, but I do recall some great games, since AHS was in the middle of what became a 38-game winning streak in district play. These days, the Golden Eagles still make the playoffs pretty regularly, but these were special times. Beating Carlsbad at home after being down by two scores in a driving rainstorm/lightning storm/power outage.

I remember being on the field my junior year at the Sun Bowl for the first-round playoff game against Hanks. We didn’t lose bi-district games in those days, and we beat the Knights pretty soundly. It was the next week we were excited about—a trip to Odessa to play the Permian Panthers. The following year would be the year Buzz Bissinger chronicled a year of PHS football. Permian came to the Sun Bowl the next year and beat us 41-13, so we made the book, albeit inauspiciously.

But my junior year, we headed east for Ratliff Stadium, knowing full well the task before us. These were the days of the Midland, Odessa, San Angelo and Abilene teams comprising the “Little Southwest Conference,” as it was called. The football in this neighborhood was outstanding in these days, and our excellent 1988 district championship team lost 34-0. One factoid I remember (it’s funny what sticks sometimes) is that team gave up three points in the third quarter. All season. Twelve games, and only Carlsbad could kick a field goal on opening night. I also remember getting lit up by Coach Culberson (defensive coordinator and a big man) for not running our football out to the game officials that day. I threw them out there, and he made sure I heard about it. I understand why he was upset, given how the game went.

There were lots of great memories over those two seasons, but truth be told, that job was probably bigger than me. I was OK with it as long as I was an underling, which was the case my junior year too. I’d have been the head manager as a senior, but I got into a bit of a snit when I didn’t get a letterman’s jacket after we won district, so I quit and didn’t tell anyone on the football staff. It’s a regret, and something I wish I had to do over.