Scoring: Combo of vision, finesse, quickness and bad attitude

I have earned the right to infiltrate a Cape Henlopen High School practice but if a coach were to tell me to leave I’d be gone like a Catholic boy before second collection. Last Tuesday I felt like an old truck tire on the embedded rubberized turf field two at Cape; man was it green and hot, and I stood behind the cage and watched the field hockey team practice corners. I had a revelation, because I don’t know exactly what an epiphany is, just that lots of people are suddenly having them. The hockey ball, hard like a croquet ball, flies furiously fast at the cage and it made me think, “Why aren’t more goals scored?” It’s only natural to be borderline leery about a fast-moving object that can crack an occipital bone in your face and knock a person into the next marking period.

I am always asking field hockey coaches about conversion rates for penalty corners and mostly I’ve been told, “You should score on every corner, now get off of my lawn,” but I found that all kinds of teams on the big stage, including our own Olympic team, have a penchant to go cold on corners.

Cape’s Diane Travis, nicknamed “Tweety” before Twitter, back in 1979 had 57 goals in a three-year career. I always said that Travis would run over her grandmom’s face if she got between her and the goal. In my house it was her and the doughnut bag.

I think scoring is a combination of vision, finesse, quickness and a bad attitude.

Don’t set me up - I taught high school for 35 straight years, so I’ve been ignored by the best and the brightest and an assorted collection of the clueless. Two weeks ago at the Saturday morning reunion of the Shady Tree Lounge, round mounds of ultrasound basketball brigadiers constantly quizzed me on things ranging from Cape athletic history to how the attitude of the athlete has changed over the years.

I was careful not to ramble as I ambled back in history and still didn’t trust these guys; just because they were looking at me doesn’t mean they were listening. I can’t think of an athlete other than Randy Johnson in 1976-77, who won six varsity letters his senior year and two separate state titles three days apart, having won the indoor pole vault on a Thursday and the state wrestling title at 138 pounds on Saturday night. Charles Turner won a state wrestling title in 1978, went undefeated pinning all but one, then high jumped 6-foot-10 in the spring. Hertford Gibbs played football, basketball, baseball and track and was perhaps more athletically gifted than anyone. Brian Mifflin was Bo Jackson, just a blink away from big time in football and baseball. Tony Zigman was another name that surfaced, and I just realized I’m writing only about guys. I can say that Zelda Sheppard was as good in basketball as any Cape player who ever played. But the thing is not who was best in high school, but who continued to have a good quality of physical and mental health as an adult.

Snippets - The ALS walk is 10 a.m., Saturday, Sept. 18, on the Boardwalk in Rehoboth. If you are not on the working end of a rescue dog’s retractable leash, why not sign up, drop a donation and take a 2-mile slow walk on the boards with a family that would love your company? Or you could train for a triathlon or some other solitary, nonsocial event that’s all about you and your fitness level.

We Phillies fans all saw Placido Polanco aka Poly Pockets send a single to right field chasing home Shane Victorino in the bottom of the eighth against Florida with a go-ahead run. The camera panned to the celebration in the stands where some happy man must have thought his wife was a catcher, because he grabbed her chest protector.

Her smile was slowly changing to concern: “Jumping Joy and her twisted husband Jumping Jack Flash.” It was so stupid, and wisely Tom McCarthy and Chris Wheeler made no comment.

Trust me, it’s all over the internet in our society where sports and sexual repression merge into one joyous moment. I’m like a family car last driven by a teenager: just about out of gas.