My story was when I was a sophomore in highschool in 2016.
I was playing varsity football in the second game of the season. It was 4th down and we had to punt and I was the long snapper. The other team for some reason didn’t block me whatsoever and set me up for a big hit. I hit this kid so hard I thought I killed him. I buried my forehead in the center of his chest, the ball went flying but I didn’t care. Immediately once I hit him I couldn’t breathe. I fractured my back because of the amount of pressure I had when I hit him with the top of my head. I never cared about the dangers of hitting with your head. I just wanted to destroy people. I stood up from that play and I could hardly walk. It didn’t matter to me how and it hurt I ran off that field. And I played the rest of the game. I knew there was something really wrong because I couldn’t move without having pain. Hell, I couldn’t breathe without having pain.
The next day I woke up and still hurt bad and even worse then when it happened. But it didn’t matter to me. I always told myself that if Marcus Luttrell could have gone through all of that, then I can wake up and get my ass to the gym. I played every single game that year. We won state that year so I played 13 games with a severely fractured lower back. Every day no matter how bad it hurt during practice or lifting weights Marcus and his brothers from operation red wings lived in the back of my head. Although I do not know them at all whatsoever. I could hear them in my head, with Marcus saying quit being a bitch it ain’t that bad. I finished the year out and never took a break during the entire injury. I always tell myself that if my mind can keep pushing forward, then my body will go. And I learned that through Marcus’ story and the hell he endured.