It’s Day 40 without sports so here’s the story of the two years I played “semi-pro” football in southeast DC.

Story + grainy, late-2000’s Youtube highlights to follow:

I was a few years removed from playing as a freshman at RMU, which ended in shoulder surgery and a collapsed lung. I was interning at USA TODAY during the day, bored, and I missed football. I googled “semi pro football dc” and found the Metro Nemesis.

I called the head coach, Lamont, and he told me to come play. I show up in slacks and an American Eagle button-up and the first thing I hear is “this nigga look fresh out the Abercrombie catalogue!” That ends up being the thing you miss most about team sports — the shit talking.

I played DE because they had a couple of really good LBs and I didn’t feel I could take their jobs. There were ex-D3 guys, CC and HS standouts. Youngest player was 18, oldest was like 42. We didn’t get paid. The ticket fees paid the refs and bought jerseys. It was spectacular.

My first sack in my first scrimmage. (commentary by my little brother):

The fellas started calling me “White Rob” because there was another Rob on the team and I was the light-skinnedest guy there (We did have one actual white guy on the team, Josh).

My favorite player, Smiley (#21), barely ever practiced, smoked black and milds before games, and weighed maybe 170 soaking wet, but he was an absolute terror at safety and corner.

Here, I’m first in on the tackle and I remember intentionally dragging my feet instead of driving through because I knew Smiley was over there and he was going to launch himself at this poor man’s head and I didn’t want to have my brain in the crossfire.

He also had pretty freakish ball skills.

The refs were helpless. They really didn’t call much. Coaches would go on the field to berate refs. One such tiff led to another team’s coach yelling he was going to the car to get his "iron". Everybody ran away and went home immediately. Really had to keep your head on a swivel.

I had a nice little run as a DE at 220. I celebrated more than ever before, mostly because there was a lot of competition and the sideline needed to know when I got to the QB. A sack or a big hit might buy you a few quarters of uninterrupted playing time.

Oh man... one time we kicked an extra point instead of going for two!

Our 2pt conversion rate wasn’t great for whatever reason and I was asked if I could kick field goals, because, one coach said, “I just assume all white guys can kick field goals.”

I reminded them that I was not white, but yes, I think I can kick field goals. I bought one of those kicking stands and went to a park by myself and got pretty consistent from 40 and under. The next week I said let’s do it. We practiced it like 5 times. I think I went 4/5.

The next game we were smashing these fools and Lamont said get in there. The backup QB and I exchanged knowing looks and went out there on a mission. This thing had to go through or Lamont might not ever let us try it again.

The result:

I was so damn excited I forgot to acknowledge my holder and snapper and whatnot.

I had an absolute blast with these guys. We traveled as far as Philly, carpooling all over and winning like 80% of our games for a couple years. My career ended as most football careers do. I went up against a right tackle in a playoff game in Baltimore who had some real talent.

I went for an inside jab step and he picked me up and slammed me, then fell on me. My left hand got pinned and the wrist hyperextended backwards. Ended up needing surgery for a broken scaphoid a few years later.

Worth it. Wouldn’t trade those years, or that team for anything.