tk13
11-07-2004, 02:24 AM
http://www.kansascity.com/mld/kansascity/sports/football/nfl/kansas_city_chiefs/10118561.htm
Derrick would have loved this
Kids football field at academy brings community together
JOE POSNANSKI
Time runs away from us, everybody knows that, but it still seems impossible that almost five years have run away since Derrick Thomas died in a Miami hospital. It's true. He died in February 2000, before hanging chads and 9/11 and wireless Internet and the Chiefs traded for Dick Vermeil, before the unrelenting “I'm Joe Schmo, and I approved this message” jokes.
Derrick Thomas died so long ago, in fact, that his greatness as a football player fades in people's memories. He was the most feared defensive football player of his time. He was feared for the right reason; he did not hurt people or take cheap shots or invent some silly dance. No. He made big plays. He jumped the snap, sprinted around his man, closed in on the quarterback with the sort of fury you see from lions on those nature shows. And then he reached back, chopped his arm down on the quarterback's like the blade of a guillotine, knocked the ball free.
He changed more football games than any defensive player of his time.
Isn't that how you judge football players?
Still, now you hear people say he “might” belong in the Pro Football Hall of Fame. And you hear others say he was not a Hall of Famer at all. You see fewer and fewer Derrick Thomas jerseys worn; those have been replaced by “Holmes” and “Green” and “Gonzalez.” The years go on.
But on a small football field surrounded by a chain-link fence, kids play football. They are sixth- and seventh-graders. The sun sets, and pink trails across the sky, and in one end zone kids in a drum line play a steady beat. Little cheerleaders dance. On the field, a quarterback drops back, throws a pass slightly behind his receiver, and a tiny kid wearing 21, barely bigger than a fire hydrant, intercepts the ball.
The people from the neighborhood cheer. The drum beat gets louder. The little 21 runs the sideline, makes one quick move and sprints into the end zone.
The end zone has a word written in it: THOMAS.
“Derrick would have loved this,” his old teammate Eric Hicks says. “I don't want to say it makes me sad, but you know it does. Derrick really would have loved this.”
***
There were complaints from the neighbors at first when they started building this $400,000 football field where a parking lot used to be near downtown. These are historic buildings around here. And where there are historic buildings, people do not like change. They do not like construction.
One man in particular did not like those drums playing near his house.
The field was built anyway. The NFL paid for half of it. The Chiefs paid $150,000. It was important. This field is for the Derrick Thomas Academy, a charter school built in an abandoned office building five minutes from downtown. The school wants to get into kids' lives and give them hope. “Where achievers are made today,” is the school motto.
They needed a football field.
“This field is such a big part of what we are trying to do,” says Leah Martisko, the principal at the Derrick Thomas Academy. See, the kids can't participate in football if they don't keep their grades up. They can't play if they act up in class. They can't be cheerleaders. They can't be in the drum line. They can't be on the dance team.
They all see that beautiful field. They all want to be a part of it.
“It is such a motivator,” Martisko says.
And now, on certain evenings, you will see them out there. You hear the drums first, then the cheerleaders. The grass — field turf, actually — looks so green (and red and yellow in the end zones) compared with the drab look of concrete everywhere else you look. It is like that moment when “The Wizard Of Oz” bursts into color.
Then, you see children running and catching footballs, and you hear them shouting.
Finally, you see all the people surrounding the field. There are dozens of people leaning on the fence. Some are parents. Some are teachers. But you know what? Most of them are neighbors, the same ones who complained about the field being built. Now, they are the ones cheering the loudest, because they realize that a football field with kids playing might be better than a parking lot.
And the man who despised the drums? He came up to Martisko recently.
“Thank you,” he said, “for bringing our community together.”
***
Derrick Thomas would have loved it all. He was, in so many ways, a big kid. He would have loved the kids playing football on a field named for him. He would have loved a community coming together around football. And he would have loved seeing his name in those end zones. Derrick Thomas always wanted his name up in lights.
“That's what this place needs,” Hicks says suddenly. “Lights!” He and Chiefs president Carl Peterson had come out to see the game. Peterson left for another charity function, but Hicks sticks around. He looks around the field as the sky grows dark. The game is over, but the drum line continues to play, and the cheerleaders continue to cheer. You can barely see them by the glow of the street lamps.
A few kids perform a little ritual. Everyone in the neighborhood watches and listens.
“What's the first rule?” the kids are asked.
“Always treat others as you wish to be treated,” they say.
“Always treat others as you wish to be treated,” the leader repeats.
“Yeah, this place needs lights,” Hicks says. “We need to do something about that.”
http://www.kansascity.com/images/kansascity/kansascitystar/news/POZ7_SP_110504_AML_0115.jpg
AARON LINDBERG/Special to The Star
Chiefs defensive end Eric Hicks (center) and team president Carl Peterson (next to Hicks) congratulated a winning football team Friday at the Derrick Thomas Academy.
Derrick would have loved this
Kids football field at academy brings community together
JOE POSNANSKI
Time runs away from us, everybody knows that, but it still seems impossible that almost five years have run away since Derrick Thomas died in a Miami hospital. It's true. He died in February 2000, before hanging chads and 9/11 and wireless Internet and the Chiefs traded for Dick Vermeil, before the unrelenting “I'm Joe Schmo, and I approved this message” jokes.
Derrick Thomas died so long ago, in fact, that his greatness as a football player fades in people's memories. He was the most feared defensive football player of his time. He was feared for the right reason; he did not hurt people or take cheap shots or invent some silly dance. No. He made big plays. He jumped the snap, sprinted around his man, closed in on the quarterback with the sort of fury you see from lions on those nature shows. And then he reached back, chopped his arm down on the quarterback's like the blade of a guillotine, knocked the ball free.
He changed more football games than any defensive player of his time.
Isn't that how you judge football players?
Still, now you hear people say he “might” belong in the Pro Football Hall of Fame. And you hear others say he was not a Hall of Famer at all. You see fewer and fewer Derrick Thomas jerseys worn; those have been replaced by “Holmes” and “Green” and “Gonzalez.” The years go on.
But on a small football field surrounded by a chain-link fence, kids play football. They are sixth- and seventh-graders. The sun sets, and pink trails across the sky, and in one end zone kids in a drum line play a steady beat. Little cheerleaders dance. On the field, a quarterback drops back, throws a pass slightly behind his receiver, and a tiny kid wearing 21, barely bigger than a fire hydrant, intercepts the ball.
The people from the neighborhood cheer. The drum beat gets louder. The little 21 runs the sideline, makes one quick move and sprints into the end zone.
The end zone has a word written in it: THOMAS.
“Derrick would have loved this,” his old teammate Eric Hicks says. “I don't want to say it makes me sad, but you know it does. Derrick really would have loved this.”
***
There were complaints from the neighbors at first when they started building this $400,000 football field where a parking lot used to be near downtown. These are historic buildings around here. And where there are historic buildings, people do not like change. They do not like construction.
One man in particular did not like those drums playing near his house.
The field was built anyway. The NFL paid for half of it. The Chiefs paid $150,000. It was important. This field is for the Derrick Thomas Academy, a charter school built in an abandoned office building five minutes from downtown. The school wants to get into kids' lives and give them hope. “Where achievers are made today,” is the school motto.
They needed a football field.
“This field is such a big part of what we are trying to do,” says Leah Martisko, the principal at the Derrick Thomas Academy. See, the kids can't participate in football if they don't keep their grades up. They can't play if they act up in class. They can't be cheerleaders. They can't be in the drum line. They can't be on the dance team.
They all see that beautiful field. They all want to be a part of it.
“It is such a motivator,” Martisko says.
And now, on certain evenings, you will see them out there. You hear the drums first, then the cheerleaders. The grass — field turf, actually — looks so green (and red and yellow in the end zones) compared with the drab look of concrete everywhere else you look. It is like that moment when “The Wizard Of Oz” bursts into color.
Then, you see children running and catching footballs, and you hear them shouting.
Finally, you see all the people surrounding the field. There are dozens of people leaning on the fence. Some are parents. Some are teachers. But you know what? Most of them are neighbors, the same ones who complained about the field being built. Now, they are the ones cheering the loudest, because they realize that a football field with kids playing might be better than a parking lot.
And the man who despised the drums? He came up to Martisko recently.
“Thank you,” he said, “for bringing our community together.”
***
Derrick Thomas would have loved it all. He was, in so many ways, a big kid. He would have loved the kids playing football on a field named for him. He would have loved a community coming together around football. And he would have loved seeing his name in those end zones. Derrick Thomas always wanted his name up in lights.
“That's what this place needs,” Hicks says suddenly. “Lights!” He and Chiefs president Carl Peterson had come out to see the game. Peterson left for another charity function, but Hicks sticks around. He looks around the field as the sky grows dark. The game is over, but the drum line continues to play, and the cheerleaders continue to cheer. You can barely see them by the glow of the street lamps.
A few kids perform a little ritual. Everyone in the neighborhood watches and listens.
“What's the first rule?” the kids are asked.
“Always treat others as you wish to be treated,” they say.
“Always treat others as you wish to be treated,” the leader repeats.
“Yeah, this place needs lights,” Hicks says. “We need to do something about that.”
http://www.kansascity.com/images/kansascity/kansascitystar/news/POZ7_SP_110504_AML_0115.jpg
AARON LINDBERG/Special to The Star
Chiefs defensive end Eric Hicks (center) and team president Carl Peterson (next to Hicks) congratulated a winning football team Friday at the Derrick Thomas Academy.