It's been a while since I've written on here, for good reason.
The real world is consuming, something I'm familiar with after being a student athlete for the last 9 years of my life. And that exact topic is what inspired this post.
WAS an athlete.
Those words have been ringing in the back of my head for a couple months now, but for some reason, they've recently entered the forefront of my thoughts. I'm not longer labeled with something associated with sports. Whatever it would be, it'd be with 'former' in front of it.
I've had a long time to reflect on how I wanted to express my feelings on the issue and it was only within the last few days I've been able to channel these fragmented observations and thoughts into a coherent piece of writing. While many people who are athletes in college do not make the next level, whatever it may be, I simply hope to offer up an internal dialogue of someone who has poured himself into something for so long and having it end abruptly, albeit in a fitting closure (as opposed to a career ending injury, for example).
There are a couple points I'd like to cover in this attempt to explain this experience, but I can't come up with a good way to group them, so I apologize if this gets a little jumbled.
________________________________________________________________
Leaving a team, even if it was in a natural way like exhausting eligibility, leaves you empty.
Just....
Empty.
The friends you've had for 4 or 5 years are all of the sudden out of your life. The thrill of competition is gone. You go back to your room at night and wake up with nothing to do. You don't have your buddy calling you at 9 am because you slept in and aren't at meetings. You don't rendezvous with your teammates to figure out when the best time to watch film is. You stop obsessing over diets and lifting and keeping yourself straight on the weekends. There's no one over your shoulder watching you to see if you're behaving, achieving, doing the things you were formerly supposed to do.
And then you realize...
This is what being a mature young adult is like.
You've made it.
And while it's refreshing, it's not as glamorous as you would think.
Bringing it back to the relationships built over the years, gone are the days when you had all your closest friends, rivals, confidants, and, most important, teammates all in one room just hanging out and shooting the shit. When all of that is suddenly gone, it's like you lose all of your best friends at once. You may not realize it, but after the usual couple weeks of taking it easy and you don't show up for work outs or meetings, you begin to feel more and more empty as time goes by. Next thing you know, you have a job in the West Loop that gets you up as early as you used to wake up for football, but this time you don't get to share it with your boys. In the beginning, at least, you're the new guy who's getting the hang of things. You're the one trying to find a clique within the office and are no longer the big dog, the veteran, the person who people come to for some enlightenment.
My role as a Northwestern football player definitely started off slow, but by the end, I absolutely relished in my status on the team. No, I didn't get much playing time. No, I didn't try out for the NFL teams on pro day. What I got to do was be the team's hype-man. I was the guy quoting 50 Cent in my pregame speeches, telling people I would carry them home after they gave all they had on the field and couldn't make it off themselves.
Even as I write this now, my eyes well up. These are the best memories of my life. Being part of something so much bigger than myself, having the ears and eyes of my brothers in the locker room who I've bleed with, sweat with, and shed tears with for so many work outs, drills, and practices. For so many wins, losses, ups, downs, and anything in between that you could imagine.
Then, one day, you wake up and don't show up anymore.
I've recently read American Sniper and have read Lone Survivor, and while I absolutely cannot compare our experiences as a team to being part of a SEAL team, the principles ring true for any collection of people who give part of themselves up for something bigger. While their end game was a matter of life and death, ours was a win or a loss; something any competitor will tell you feels like life or death in that particular moment.
There are some of us, like my great friend Breezey, who are able to go right into a coaching role and immerse themselves in the culture once again, albeit in a completely different role.
There are people who put themselves out there for a chance to compete at the next level, like my fellow D-linemen Q and Arnie.
Then, there are people like me, who fade out of the spotlight, left with nothing but memories and reluctantly go on with their lives.
It seems like a sad ending, but it really isn't. It's just the end of something, and quickly getting over the cliche, where something new begins. I'll always have the reminiscence of what winning a bowl game was like, what it was like to have our home crowd on their feet as I trotted out to play running back, the look on my teammates faces as I screamed and hollered the craziest shit I could come up with to get them amped for the game, and so much more.
It'll just be weird to use the past tense of the verb play.
Played.
I played football in college.
I was an athlete.
As always,
Party
XOXO Dozie
Thursday, March 21, 2013
Thursday, January 24, 2013
You guys.
I recorded a podcast with the guys over at The West Lot Pirates. We got to talking about the season, the bowl game, and (duh) me.
In all seriousness, I had such a great time. Sam, Erik, and John are great dudes and you should check out their other podcasts.
I've been busy with le work so I'll have some sort of an update soon-ish when I'm adjusted to my schedule.
As always,
PARTY
I recorded a podcast with the guys over at The West Lot Pirates. We got to talking about the season, the bowl game, and (duh) me.
In all seriousness, I had such a great time. Sam, Erik, and John are great dudes and you should check out their other podcasts.
I've been busy with le work so I'll have some sort of an update soon-ish when I'm adjusted to my schedule.
As always,
PARTY
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
New Year with Great Beginnings
Man.
It's been a while since I've posted on this. I've spent my time prepping for the 2013 Gator Bowl, winning the Gator Bowl, taking a short trip to New Orleans, and then looking for employment.
Now that I'm back from my trips and have found a job, I feel more inclined to write posts.
____________________________________________________________________
In thinking about what I wanted to write, I figured a little Gator Bowl and football flavor would be in order, just to get out what that was all like.
After coming back to Evanston 4 years in a row with a bowl game loss, this last bowl trip was simply surreal. In fact, it is now January 15 and I am still riding some of the emotions invoked by our January 1 win. I didn't want to leave the field, and I know some people were forced into the locker room so we could have our usual post-game speech.
But this was no ordinary post game speech.
We had just won a bowl game against an SEC opponent, and had done it in style. Though we were at one point tied, winning the game by the 14 points that we did solidified the notion that we didn't just happen to win. We dominated. There was no doubt who the victor was on that sunny day in Jacksonville.
Getting back into the locker room was another experience in itself. Never before had I exited a foreign, southern field and been greeted with that many smiling faces or that much positive emotion. Seniors this year were crying, not because of a heart breaking loss, but out of sheer happiness.
From the bottom of our tired and weary Northwestern University Wildcat football souls, we had done it.
We did what so many teams before us could not. We ended the post season with a win. We were going home champions. We were getting a bowl ring that emphatically said "Champions" across it. And for those of you who follow me on twitter, that title, Champion, is what makes all the difference to a competitor.
You better damn well know I made sure to get a piece of that monkey once Fitz let it loose upon our rabid team. We tore that thing up as violently and horrifically as possible, stuffing flying everywhere- a testament to how bad we wanted this win. I would have felt more remorseful and harrowed had the tearing of the monkey not meant what it did. But it was a sign of a new era for Northwestern University and Northwestern Wildcat football, one where there is no decades long streak hanging over our heads, one where there is a stigma attached to coming to such a highly competitive academic school, one where we always let our fans down in the end.
This is a new era of Northwestern in which the freight train of our athletic department is a force to be reckoned with and respected. There is nothing but positive vibes from the Northwestern community, and nothing but praise for what we as a team have done for all of the players, fans, and supporters past and present.
As I wrap this up, all I can think about is that feeling at the end of the game where I saw Brian Arnfelt. As we embraced just before we doused Fitz in Gatorade, time slowed.
Senior to senior, brother to brother, man to man- we had done it. We were victors. We were forever immortalized as the men who fought and clawed and suffered for this great university and all of its believers.
We were champions. And no one could ever take that from us.
It's been a while since I've posted on this. I've spent my time prepping for the 2013 Gator Bowl, winning the Gator Bowl, taking a short trip to New Orleans, and then looking for employment.
Now that I'm back from my trips and have found a job, I feel more inclined to write posts.
____________________________________________________________________
In thinking about what I wanted to write, I figured a little Gator Bowl and football flavor would be in order, just to get out what that was all like.
After coming back to Evanston 4 years in a row with a bowl game loss, this last bowl trip was simply surreal. In fact, it is now January 15 and I am still riding some of the emotions invoked by our January 1 win. I didn't want to leave the field, and I know some people were forced into the locker room so we could have our usual post-game speech.
But this was no ordinary post game speech.
We had just won a bowl game against an SEC opponent, and had done it in style. Though we were at one point tied, winning the game by the 14 points that we did solidified the notion that we didn't just happen to win. We dominated. There was no doubt who the victor was on that sunny day in Jacksonville.
Getting back into the locker room was another experience in itself. Never before had I exited a foreign, southern field and been greeted with that many smiling faces or that much positive emotion. Seniors this year were crying, not because of a heart breaking loss, but out of sheer happiness.
From the bottom of our tired and weary Northwestern University Wildcat football souls, we had done it.
We did what so many teams before us could not. We ended the post season with a win. We were going home champions. We were getting a bowl ring that emphatically said "Champions" across it. And for those of you who follow me on twitter, that title, Champion, is what makes all the difference to a competitor.
You better damn well know I made sure to get a piece of that monkey once Fitz let it loose upon our rabid team. We tore that thing up as violently and horrifically as possible, stuffing flying everywhere- a testament to how bad we wanted this win. I would have felt more remorseful and harrowed had the tearing of the monkey not meant what it did. But it was a sign of a new era for Northwestern University and Northwestern Wildcat football, one where there is no decades long streak hanging over our heads, one where there is a stigma attached to coming to such a highly competitive academic school, one where we always let our fans down in the end.
This is a new era of Northwestern in which the freight train of our athletic department is a force to be reckoned with and respected. There is nothing but positive vibes from the Northwestern community, and nothing but praise for what we as a team have done for all of the players, fans, and supporters past and present.
As I wrap this up, all I can think about is that feeling at the end of the game where I saw Brian Arnfelt. As we embraced just before we doused Fitz in Gatorade, time slowed.
 |
| One of the best hugs I've ever been a part of (photo cred: Kbird) |
We were champions. And no one could ever take that from us.
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
His name? Number 2
So now that I've had some time for that first post to sink in, I've had an overwhelmingly positive response to this blog. Granted, I haven't written much on it, but teammates, fans, and friends have expressed their interest in it. The only negative sentiment I heard was from Fitz, who was probably concerned I was gonna expose team secrets and ruin the program.
Fitz, I promise I only intend to write about dumb things that people will find funny and entertaining, not about the inner workings of the NU Football Family.
Anyway, this interest in my blog expressed by others is exactly what I wanted to write about in this post.
As many of you know, I'm a pretty active person on social media. Lately, my Twitter has taken over my Facebook usage. My Facebook feed has become full of pregnant/married friends, people who think they're super sweet by taking pictures with alcohol in their hands, and spam. It's really only good for dumping pictures and keeping in touch with people long term. ANYWAY- I've basically got 4 ways to connect with people on social media: Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, and this blog.
One of my biggest peeves is when people talk to me about my social media posts to me in person.
"Oh man, you're so funny on Twitter."
"Hey, your picture on Instagram the other day was so cool."
"BO I RED UR BLOG, I CAN'T WAYT 4 MOER POSTZ"
I of course appreciate the support and feedback... BUT DON'T SAY IT TO ME IN PERSON. You can show how much you enjoy my posts by retweeting, liking, commenting, etc. That's what the buttons are for, homie.
It may not seem like a big deal, but this happens to me so so so often. Whenever it does, I always have to tell Emily Allard (<--link) because she and I are basically social media best friends, and (somehow) rarely associate in real life. IT JUST DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE, PEOPLE. Spam me with likes, retweets, favorites, comments, ANYTHING.
I just want to feel electronically loved. Is that too much to ask? IS IT? The more love you show me on the respective site, the more exposure we all get, and come on, who doesn't want more followers than people you're following?
Anyway, thanks for the support. I'll be updating as often as I can come up with things to talk about. But I don't want to turn this into some dumb thing where I tell you about my day. Because, honestly, that's not funny or interesting. Unless something totally sweet happens. Then, I'll come here with it. Like when this dude in front of me on the train down to an interview in the city wasn't paying attention and was on his phone and the train stopped and his face smashed into a pole. Not deserving of a separate entry, but worth sharing nonetheless. Probably could have tweeted that, but I didn't. DEAL WITH IT.
Comment on/share this, follow/tweet at me, and friend me so I can creep your Facebook. Social media the HELL out of me. I won't hate you for it. Dozer's Den is a judge free zone.*
Party,
Dozer
*LOL jk, you'll find out how hard I judge people very soon
Fitz, I promise I only intend to write about dumb things that people will find funny and entertaining, not about the inner workings of the NU Football Family.
Anyway, this interest in my blog expressed by others is exactly what I wanted to write about in this post.
As many of you know, I'm a pretty active person on social media. Lately, my Twitter has taken over my Facebook usage. My Facebook feed has become full of pregnant/married friends, people who think they're super sweet by taking pictures with alcohol in their hands, and spam. It's really only good for dumping pictures and keeping in touch with people long term. ANYWAY- I've basically got 4 ways to connect with people on social media: Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, and this blog.
One of my biggest peeves is when people talk to me about my social media posts to me in person.
"Oh man, you're so funny on Twitter."
"Hey, your picture on Instagram the other day was so cool."
"BO I RED UR BLOG, I CAN'T WAYT 4 MOER POSTZ"
I of course appreciate the support and feedback... BUT DON'T SAY IT TO ME IN PERSON. You can show how much you enjoy my posts by retweeting, liking, commenting, etc. That's what the buttons are for, homie.
It may not seem like a big deal, but this happens to me so so so often. Whenever it does, I always have to tell Emily Allard (<--link) because she and I are basically social media best friends, and (somehow) rarely associate in real life. IT JUST DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE, PEOPLE. Spam me with likes, retweets, favorites, comments, ANYTHING.
I just want to feel electronically loved. Is that too much to ask? IS IT? The more love you show me on the respective site, the more exposure we all get, and come on, who doesn't want more followers than people you're following?
Anyway, thanks for the support. I'll be updating as often as I can come up with things to talk about. But I don't want to turn this into some dumb thing where I tell you about my day. Because, honestly, that's not funny or interesting. Unless something totally sweet happens. Then, I'll come here with it. Like when this dude in front of me on the train down to an interview in the city wasn't paying attention and was on his phone and the train stopped and his face smashed into a pole. Not deserving of a separate entry, but worth sharing nonetheless. Probably could have tweeted that, but I didn't. DEAL WITH IT.
Comment on/share this, follow/tweet at me, and friend me so I can creep your Facebook. Social media the HELL out of me. I won't hate you for it. Dozer's Den is a judge free zone.*
Party,
Dozer
*LOL jk, you'll find out how hard I judge people very soon
Saturday, December 15, 2012
Le MANifesto
I'll start this off by saying this blog has begun at, arguably, the worst time it possibly could have.
I say that because I am nearing the end of my college career as a Northwestern University football player, and have ended my time as a college student. I have experienced a great deal of publicity within the last few months, mostly because I wear #1 as a defensive tackle and it looks ABSOLUTELY ridiculous. The other few minutes of fame have been from general acts of badassery, which will inevitably be expounded upon in this blog. With that being said, I'm sure I will quickly fall from my fame, and my stories won't be as crazy without being in college. But, there is always a chance to revisit my experiences, and I for sure have some good stories.
Only recently have I seriously considered starting a blog. I've always been into writing, but never in a formal medium. The only things I've written have been super short stories or lyrics to unwritten music, and those were just writing for the sake of it.
Initially, the seed was planted by a class I took while a junior at NU. New Media as Popular Culture was all about students exploring alternative types of media and how they affect culture today. Some people started blogs and experienced some joys that came with that. The biggest influence on me starting this would definitely have to be my good friend Claire. She started a blog (<-- link) about her baking adventures. She's an incredible baker and has been linked to by a good deal of blogs and sites, so she's obviously been treated well in the blogging community. What sealed the deal for me was my girlfriend, Ali, revisiting her old blog (<-- link). She's had hers a while and incepted the idea of writing for one in my head with her talks of starting it up again.
SO. Here I am with my first post and a lot of boring things that most of you couldn't care less about. Let's just call this the manifesto. Wait. Let's revisit that. A MANifesto. Because I am a man, and my background image is of whiskey. Men drink whiskey, and so am I.
This blog will serve as a way for me to serve you all up some entertainment. I type like I speak, with emphasis on WORDS when I WANT them to be EMPHASIZED. I describe many things as being "lame", say "nah" way too much, and use "super" instead of "really", as in "That's super awesome," so this isn't going to be any sort of academic writing. I'll keep it as classy as I can, but you can't censor swag. Some posts will be rants, others stories, and others lyrics/stories I have written and want to share. With all of this being said, let's get weird.
I'll make sure to put my social media contact on the side. I'd love to hear from people, and I've been told I'm pretty entertaining. It's a win/win for us.
Party, (That's my thing, you know like how some people say "cheers" or "best" or lame things like that. Nah, mine's just the word "party". Deal with it.)
Dozer
I say that because I am nearing the end of my college career as a Northwestern University football player, and have ended my time as a college student. I have experienced a great deal of publicity within the last few months, mostly because I wear #1 as a defensive tackle and it looks ABSOLUTELY ridiculous. The other few minutes of fame have been from general acts of badassery, which will inevitably be expounded upon in this blog. With that being said, I'm sure I will quickly fall from my fame, and my stories won't be as crazy without being in college. But, there is always a chance to revisit my experiences, and I for sure have some good stories.
Only recently have I seriously considered starting a blog. I've always been into writing, but never in a formal medium. The only things I've written have been super short stories or lyrics to unwritten music, and those were just writing for the sake of it.
Initially, the seed was planted by a class I took while a junior at NU. New Media as Popular Culture was all about students exploring alternative types of media and how they affect culture today. Some people started blogs and experienced some joys that came with that. The biggest influence on me starting this would definitely have to be my good friend Claire. She started a blog (<-- link) about her baking adventures. She's an incredible baker and has been linked to by a good deal of blogs and sites, so she's obviously been treated well in the blogging community. What sealed the deal for me was my girlfriend, Ali, revisiting her old blog (<-- link). She's had hers a while and incepted the idea of writing for one in my head with her talks of starting it up again.
SO. Here I am with my first post and a lot of boring things that most of you couldn't care less about. Let's just call this the manifesto. Wait. Let's revisit that. A MANifesto. Because I am a man, and my background image is of whiskey. Men drink whiskey, and so am I.
This blog will serve as a way for me to serve you all up some entertainment. I type like I speak, with emphasis on WORDS when I WANT them to be EMPHASIZED. I describe many things as being "lame", say "nah" way too much, and use "super" instead of "really", as in "That's super awesome," so this isn't going to be any sort of academic writing. I'll keep it as classy as I can, but you can't censor swag. Some posts will be rants, others stories, and others lyrics/stories I have written and want to share. With all of this being said, let's get weird.
I'll make sure to put my social media contact on the side. I'd love to hear from people, and I've been told I'm pretty entertaining. It's a win/win for us.
Party, (That's my thing, you know like how some people say "cheers" or "best" or lame things like that. Nah, mine's just the word "party". Deal with it.)
Dozer
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