A lot was going on during the early part of my freshman year.

Inside the school building, the tension was thick. I felt irrelevant as a freshman, not just in class, but at football practice too. But things began to shift after that big hit I laid in practice. I started getting noticed. I started to feel like I belonged.

Around that time, my cousin Vance Jones came back from his suspension, and just like that, the boys from LaPlace were back together: Vance, Jot, Hubba, and me. But his return didn’t exactly calm things down. In fact, the tension got worse.

The day Vance came back, we were in our usual spot, posted in front of the library, backs against the wall, watching everything. But this day was different. It felt like the entire school was watching us. That’s when a crowd formed in front of us and a slim guy approached Vance. He started talking, and Vance just let him speak. Turns out, it was the older brother of the guy Vance had fought before his suspension. The brother was a senior.

It felt like something out of a movie. And it wouldn’t be the last time things got personal.

Not long after, a rumor started going around that another senior wanted to fight me, he said his girlfriend liked me. I ignored it at first. I didn’t even know she existed, but now I did. But one day during lunch, Vance and I were walking outside when this short, muscular dude walked up and started questioning me. I just looked at Vance, Vance looked at me—we laughed and walked off. But inside? I was heated.

All this drama off the field made football even more important.

After that big hit on John Emery, I got moved to practice with the varsity full-time. I may have been a young, Black boy from LaPlace, but I was starting to prove I was much more than that.

I couldn’t play that year, but I could practice, and I was gonna leave no doubt that I belonged on the field next season. Whatever the coaches asked us to do, I did it. Full speed. No questions. That didn’t sit well with some of the varsity players. But I wasn’t there to coast, I was there to earn a spot.

I became that dude on scout team. Especially during special teams practice, when most players saw it as a break, I saw it as an opportunity.

Coach Chipper Simon would shout:

“GO BLOCK THAT PUNT!”
Or sometimes…
“Whoever blocks this kick gets a Yoo-hoo and a Snickers!”

Say less.

“22, 22… SET… SNAP—BLOCKED!”

Coach Simon yelled, “Who blocked the kick?!”
Another coach answered: “MASON!”

Coach Simon walked over, “Where did you come from, Damon?”

I pointed and said, “Right here, Coach.”

He smiled. “Do it again and I’ll give you another snack after practice.”

“Okay!”

The very next play?

“22, 22… SET… SNAP—BLOCKED AGAIN!”

Coach Simon lit into the varsity squad for letting a freshman do that to them. Me? I got my Yoo-hoo, my Snicker… and a target on my back.

I didn’t know it at the time, but some of the varsity players started talking about teaching me a lesson for going full speed during their “break time.”

When someone told me what was being said, I responded:

“I don’t care. I came here to get a scholarship. The only way I’m getting on the field is by impressing the coaches. I didn’t come here to make friends.”

What I was going through every day in that school building because I was from St. John Parish? That pressure only fueled me more. I loved knowing I was upsetting folks in practice just by doing my job, and doing it better than they could stop it.

Next Episode: “The Tension Doesn’t Break… But It Doesn’t Get Better”
Day after day. Week after week. The only thing keeping me focused was my love for the game—and showing out every day in practice.