I Beat the Odds_ From Homelessness, to the Blind Side, and Beyond - Michael Oher [54]
Just like in basketball, though, I kept running into challenges with pointless calls by some refs. The rules required that your jersey had to stay tucked into your pants, but mine was never long enough, so it would always come out during games, no matter how many times I kept tucking it in. The rules also were very specific, for some reason, about the bottom of the shirt having a finished seam. Once Leigh Anne saw that this was an ongoing problem for me and that the refs seemed to be hung up on calling me out for this, she took my jerseys to a professional seamstress who sews curtains and other things for her decorating business. They got some jersey fabric and added about five or six inches onto the bottom of all of my football shirts and made sure that the edge was perfectly sewn in a professional seam. It was great! I could tuck my jersey into my football pants and not worry about it. I didn't have to constantly check to make sure all the edges were tucked back in between every single block, or to make sure that the bottom didn't sneak out when I got into position to run the next play.
At first, all of the excitement over my skills on the field seemed a little crazy. I knew I had been blessed with athletic talent, but I still thought of myself as a basketball player who just happened to be good at football, too. My stats started to climb, and I soon realized what a lot of college coaches were seeing: I was just about the toughest left tackle around. During my two years of varsity football at Briarcrest, I didn't allow a single sack.
By the time recruiting visits started up my senior year, I was totally overwhelmed by the attention. I kept finding my name in the national rankings for high school recruits--ranking systems and top ten lists I didn't even know existed. Suddenly, it seemed like every college around was beating on my door to get me to go there, when just a few years before it had been a bit of a fight just to get into high school.
It was a challenge, meeting all of those important coaches. I've always been shy, but I was especially nervous about sitting down and having a conversation with them. I was nervous about traveling overnight to visit the schools. All those old doubts about trusting people began to sneak back in. What would they think of me? They all knew my background--would they decide I'm not the kind of person they want on their team? And what about my manners? The last thing I wanted was to come off as ignorant.
That was a big issue in the Tuohy house. Leigh Anne threw herself into the task of making sure I knew my way around a fancy dinner table and that I had a good sense of what certain restaurant dishes were. We would go out to different fancy restaurants in town and we would order pretty much everything on the menu. She'd explain to me a little about each dish, and I'd try to get an idea of what it tasted like and how to handle it on my plate. Her goal wasn't to "fix" me, as if not knowing those things somehow made me broken. Not at all. She just wanted to make sure that I would feel comfortable in any situation, and I am glad that she did. Now I can walk into any interview, any nice restaurant, any sporting event, and feel confident about how I come across.
It might sound like a silly thing to worry about with football coaches coming to town. A coach doesn't care if you know the difference between the different forks in a place setting or if your tie comes from Walmart or Brooks Brothers. They really don't. It's not about impressing them with fashion or flashy jewelry or a nice house--I guarantee you that any Division I coach is probably richer than 99