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What was going on was a gang of high school students harassing a young boy about 11 or 12 years old.
A girl about 13 years old was screaming at them to stop.
I was able to deflect the series of blows that followed as I retreated away from her.
I tried to protest and explain what had happened, but, the vocal stream of obscenities erupting from this beautiful avenger would have shamed a Marine.
My junior year, I was All-State, we went 11 and 1, losing in the state's championship game, 36-35.
My sophomore year, I was the starting quarterback and we went 8 and 3.
At a certain point, she started crying and told me to get the hell away from them.
As she walked back to the kids, I debated going back toward them, but, I was afraid of upsetting her again. I walked to the three as they were getting up and the girl started to get up to attack me again.
I was being recruited by practically every school in the country to come play for them. Lucky for me, my position coach, Coach Porter had a knack to keep my head on straight and focused.
It was a good thing for me that I was going to get a football scholarship; otherwise, it would be unlikely I would be able to afford to go to school.
Immediately I was shoved and another blow struck my head as I tried to identify my tormentor.