. . . on his school team.
When he emigrated here to attend college, he had to sign up for a P(hysical) E(ducation) class. He looked at a list of options.
"Football? I'll teach these guys how to play football!"
He goes to the PE class. The coach looks him up and down.
"So, where did you say you played before?"
"Terra Sancta College*."
"Terra Sancta? Never heard of it. What position did you play?"
Dad is thinking, what the hell is this guy talking about? "Uhh, I played all the positions, coach."
"Really? You played all positions?"
Dad weighed about 140 pounds.
"Yeah, we all played every position. Is it different here?"
"Yeah, kid, here at LA City College we specialize. So does every other college, high school, and pro team I know of except Terra Santca, and I don't even know where the hell it is."
Coach looks at Dad, sizing him up.
"You like like a wide receiver. Go out for a pass."
Dad has no idea what he's being asked, but sees the eggplant-shaped football in the coach's hand ready to be launched downfield.
Coach throws the football downfield, and Dad figures out he has to catch it. He runs toward the arc of the football and it drops into his hands.
He turns around to see three huge linebackers chasing after him.
He said he stood still, faced the oncoming defenders, and dropped the ball. The three linebackers stopped in their tracks.
Coach shook his head. "Go run four laps, kid, then take a shower."
š
* Terra Sancta is a high school in Amman, Jordan. One of Dad's classmates was King Hussein.