Taiwan - Chenjean's Village, Tree Trunk / My Football Career

The remainder of the posts from Chenjean's Village will not follow a theme or be in a particular order, just the images captured here and there that I found interesting.

Had trouble naming this guy in the title because there's really nothing else quite like it that I've seen.  Wish I'd had the presence of mind at the time to go topside and look down into this trunk, as we were in a constant futile search for snakes.  The only ones I've seen during our many trips here were road kills...
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I was relating to some of my friends the other day about my football playing career under Coach Wade Phillips.  Yes, the storied Wade Phillips of pro football fame and son of the equally storied Bum Phillips of the Houston Oilers.

It was 1972 in Orange, Texas, where he started his career at Lutcher Stark High School.  I was in the 9th grade, and there were 50 of us boys in 6th period PE, a class taught by Coach Phillips along with a Coach Misch and someone else whose name I've forgotten.  At the beginning of the semester we were divided up into teams to play football.

Once we were divvied up my team got into its first huddle, where it was decided that I would be wide receiver.  Sure.  Got no problem with that.  So we crouch for the first play of the season and the QB says the proverbial "Hut!"  Off we go, me swinging wide like a wide receiver should, and before I know it the ball comes wobbling my way.  Instinctively I turn to catch it and the ball is in my hands.

This is where harsh reality came to light about the person who has the ball:  1) You are immediately the target of everyone on the field, but for different reasons.  The O-line is coming your way so they can protect you, and the defense is after you because they wish they could have the ball instead of you.  2) When the defense reaches you, they are willing to resort to violence to get that ball, be it pouncing, striking, knocking you senseless, or whatever it takes.  On this particular play I was hit hard and struck the ground with some force, but managed to hang on to the ball.

And I gained yardage, so after dusting myself off and joining the huddle for our second play it was decided to send the ball my way again.

But I'd made a decision of my own.  I did not like all of the extra attention the ball carrier gets, or the means by which the opposing team tries to get the ball down or into their possession.  Thus, I did swing wide again, but when the ball came sailing my way I ran as far away from it as I could!  I was clear as a bell so it was not intercepted, but there was nothing anyone could do but watch as it ignominiously bounced to a stop.

Phillips glared at me in disbelief.  "COME HERE MAHOOD!!"  I trotted over to him, he handed me a tennis racked and told me to stay on the courts for the rest of the semester.  Thus ended my football career playing for the venerated Wade Phillips.