But during my freshman year as a walk-on, I was nervous as hell at tryouts. Throwing the ball around trying to shake off the nerves, this smaller, blonde guy with steel-grey eyes walked up to me and asked if I was trying out for quarterback. After I had told him that I played as a wide receiver in high school, he suggested that I switch positions.
I wasn’t about to do that. The quarterback was the focus of the team. Not only had I never before played that position, it would require a lot more attention than I was looking for.
Keeping an eye on him as he wondered around the field, I later noticed him talking to the coach. At one point I saw both of them look at me and when it was my time to line up with the other walk-ons, coach said, “You, what’s your name?”
“Claude Harper, sir.”
“Merrill tells me you have an arm,” he said in front of everyone.
I looked over at the guy who had seemed to be the water boy.
“I’m trying out for receiver. I have a pretty good sprint.”
I had been doing a lot of running by that point. My 40 yard dash times were what I was hoping would get me on the team.
“Well now you’re trying out for quarterback. You have a problem with that?”
“No, sir.”
“Good. Go warm up.”
I did what I was told and warmed up. I didn’t know much about the team considering division two teams didn’t get national coverage. But what I did know was that they were set as quarterback. Mark Thompson was a senior and was a lock to get the spot.
“I’ll warm you up,” Merrill told me when I headed to the nets.
“Why did you tell him that? I told you I wasn’t trying out for quarterback. Are you making sure I don’t get on the team?”
He looked at me startled.
“No. That’s not it at all. He’s my father. He told me to watch everyone and tell him what I see. I saw that you have a great arm.”
“Yeah, but the team has a quarterback. You probably even have a backup.”
“We have Mark. But he gets injured a lot. And our backup can’t hit the side of a barn. We have fast receivers and a strong offensive line. So, if we could sure up our quarterback position, we have a chance at a division title.”
“But why’d you tell your father to consider me? I told you, I don’t play quarterback.”
“Because you haven’t played it yet doesn’t mean you can’t. I feel like you’re one of those guys that has more going on than you let on. I know something about that.”
“Yeah. You’re the coach’s son pretending to be the water boy.”
“I am the water boy. Papa doesn’t believe in giving me an unfair advantage. I have to start from the bottom like everyone else.”
“Everyone else who has a job waiting for them as soon as they prove themselves?”
“What do you mean?” He asked clueless to how unlike everyone else his position was.
“Nothing.”
“Well, if you want, I can run and you can hit me on the move.”
“Sure,” I told him sending him long.
After a few passes flew left and right of him, he came back to me.
“I told you I’m a receiver,” I said hoping he would get me transferred back to where I belonged.
“Are you trying?”