Practicing was the highlight of each day. The thrill of competition. The joy of doing the hard things others didn’t want to do. And the quiet reward of hearing your name praised when folks didn’t think you were listening.

As a freshman at Destrehan High School, I had a lot to prove, not just that I could play, but that I belonged. I didn’t want to just be good… I wanted to be one of the best, even as a freshman.

I already knew I was talented. I was fast, physical, and I loved to hit. But what I didn’t know was that at Destrehan, there was a higher standard. A level of discipline, toughness, and pride that was bigger than any one player. They called it The Fighting Wildcat Way.

That summer and those first days of practice were simple — just conditioning, drills, and learning expectations. Since I had to sit out the season, I felt irrelevant. Until we put on full pads.

They sent all the freshmen over to the baseball field to practice live, just us. I couldn’t play on game nights, but this? This was my chance to show something.

That day changed everything.

We were running the wing-T, and the biggest freshman in our class, John Emery, was in the backfield. On the first play, he got the ball. I came flying from the Free Safety spot and hit him so hard, I flipped him. The whole field went quiet.

Next thing I know, the coaches looked at me and yelled:

“YOU! Go over there!”

They were pointing to the main field… where varsity was practicing.

So I jogged over and stood on the sideline, confused. I didn’t know if I was in trouble or what. All I could think was: “Man, I transferred here and already had to sit out the year… now I can’t even practice?”

But I had no idea how much that one hit was about to change how I was viewed.

Next Episode: “The Eyes Were On Me Now”
How I quietly started earning respect and learning what it truly meant to be a Wildcat.

#FightingWildcatWay
#FromLaPlaceToDestrehan
#WillAllTheBoysReport