I never played football growing up because my mom wouldn’t let me. I was accident prone enough without adding eleven guys to the equation, all in pads (read: armor) trying their best to knock me on my almost-non-existent ass . But if I had played, there’s one position I wouldn’t have wanted.
For those of you living in a cave or outside the U.S., that’s the guy who snaps the ball to the quarterback. To me, that’s got to be the worst position in the sport.
First, to be Center, you have to be huge which means the coach encourages you to eat even more than you already do, so you get even bigger. The Center is one of the biggest guys on the team. Imagine a 1977 Buick with a helmet.
This can’t be good for life after football. Multiple knee surgeries, king-sized bed, heart bypass procedures. And I’m just warming up.
Second, you’re in the middle. This pretty much guarantees that you’re getting hit every single play. And guess who’s lining up in front of you? Their biggest guy. He wants nothing more than to make you his mid-game meal. All game long he tenderizes you like you were a fresh side of beef.
And check this, you’ve got to worry about snapping the ball which gives him a split second head-start on you. Before you’ve even lifted your head to see exactly where he is, he’s set all 350 pounds of his mass into motion. Then he hits you. Every play. Doesn’t sound like much fun does it?
I saved the best for last.
Third, unless you get a quarterback that likes the shotgun snap (he lines up ten feet behind you and you throw the ball between your legs to him), you have a man’s hand near your boys every play. Sure, you’re wearing a cup, but does that really matter? The back of his hand is resting up against your crotch with only an 1/8 inch plastic shell between you both. And I’ve got to imagine that at least 90% of the time, he grazes your rump on the snap.
I’m not a homophobic but I don’t even want to touch my own ass that much. Especially not in front of large groups of people.
So let’s summarize all this again: bad knees, size 52 waist, multiple concussions, ass fondling by another man.
Yeah, I think it’s safe to take this off my list of things to do in life.