I was on the football team in high school. My freshman year, we were going through summertime two-a-day practices. One blazing-hot day, we were on the afternoon second practice.

We’d been running drills for at least two hours, and I was dripping with sweat and really ready to go home…as were the other kids.

The final drill was open-field tackling. One kid would tuck the ball, run toward a single defender, and try to get past him.

The coach said, “I haven’t seen a single good hit all day. If I see one good hit, we’ll take it in.”

I was in the line for ball-tucking running (I was pretty fast back in the day). Nobody in line before me did anything spectacular, so the drill continued.

I took the ball. The kid who was up against me for the defending position was the biggest kid on the team. Kind of freakish. Seriously, he could’ve passed for at least 22.

I said to myself, “How badly do you want this practice to end?”

So I charged at him full-bore, full-blast. I remember that at about 5 yards away he had this look in his eyes that said, “is this guy going to dodge or spin, or what?”

I ran straight into him. The next thing I remember was waking up on the ground, flat on my back. Everyone was looking at me, including the coach, who said, “okay, let’s take it in.”

Definitely worth it.