I recall reaching the depths of depression, oddly enough, during the
academic portion of my Plebe year. My 1/c squad leader was very hard on us. There were only four plebes in the squad. Meal times were the worst. It's a terrible thing to be both hungry and
not want to be at the meal table - all at the same time.
I was recruited for baseball.
Then t-tables began. I was
FREE!
(For those of you who don't know, t-tables is short for "training tables". The athletes for a particular sport all sat together at the same table. Plebes were
never hassled when at a t-table. It was considered a very good deal - one of the perks of making a sports team.)
My squad leader comes to my room and asks where I was for noon meal.
"Sir, I was at baseball t-tables, sir."
He
knew I was on the baseball team.
He ordered me to be with the squad and that he expected me to be there for evening meal. So, instead of t-tables, I joined my squad and the routine of getting grilled the whole time continued.
I figured I had to explain this to Coach Duff, the head baseball coach.
"Sir, I will not be with the team at meals because I have been ordered by my squad leader to remain with my company."
I fully expected Coach Duff to rectify the situation.
Instead, he said, "Don't come to
me with your Bancroft Hall problems."
And that was it. No t-tables - but I
still had the lengthy baseball practices.
I quit baseball during my Youngster year. Quite honestly, I probably would have quit even without this development. I was quickly learning that Aerospace Engineering and varsity sports did not blend very well. I was one of only two Group I majors on the entire team.
The good news was my grades
SKY ROCKETED from that point on.
That was
my first lesson in "Life isn't always fair."
My squad leader probably had not right (or authority) to do what he did. And yet, there was no where I could turn - not even my coach.
(Coach Duff was a former Marine. He was not only a Naval Academy icon, he was a real curmudgeon. He was scarier than most of the firsties. Baseball practice was like a 4-hr come-around.)
I can't believe I told this story. I'm back to square one of my 12-step program.
YEARS of therapy down the drain!