Thursday, March 20, 2008
The Daily Pooch Punt: 3/20/08
The only time the interview got serious was when Jacob Hutchinson thought about his four-year career as a football player at Riverheads High School. Forget about Hutch and Heizer heading to Bridgewater.
That’s when the laughing stopped.
“I could go on forever,” he said.
Go ahead, Hutch. We got all day.
That’s when he broke into one of those serious smiles (you know what we’re talking about) and started to talk.
You could almost hear AC/DC’s “Back In Black” resonate through the small conference room we packed into, mirroring off his mind and against the walls. Heizer, No. 40, and Hutchinson, No. 4, donned in the Riverheads’ black uniforms running out onto the field with thousands of fans screaming.
Fireworks in the air and the future Mayor of Greenville, arms folded, trolling the sidelines. (For those of you not in the know, we’re talking about coach Robert Casto here.)
Then you look over to the fence, where the fans stand two, and sometimes, three deep because there wasn’t enough room in the stands. “And there’s your dad,” Hutchinson said, still lost in his thoughts and memories, “smiling.”
Heizer, not known for being the quietest of guys, couldn’t think of a better way to describe it. So he pointed at the quarterback to his left and could only muster a “Just like he said,” to describe his feelings.
And, to think, most student-athletes in Augusta County (and most definitely the cities of Waynesboro and Staunton) play for four years and never get to experience something like that once. Heizer and Hutchinson got to enjoy it every home game.
“It’s a whole new level of adrenaline,” Hutchinson said.
We know, Hutch. We’ve been there.
And another thing: For the record, yes, Hutchinson and Heizer together should be a comedy hour. Seriously, I’m not kidding. You know you’re at a good interview when someone has to use a crowbar to get you out of the seat. If I was drinking milk while talking to these two, it would have come out of nose at some point.
And why is it: That when coaches at Riverheads lose players to graduation, like Casto and basketball coach John Corbett, they talk like they’re losing a son, not a once-a-season playmaker?
“We’ve got good people here,” Casto told me once during the basketball season. “We’re a different breed.”
Coaches, schools and community support should all be cut from the same cloth as Riverheads. Alas, they are not.
Last question: Miss these two yet? Don’t worry, you will.
Casto and Corbett do already.