I had multiple concussions playing HS football. One of the worst took place at Hollidaysburg in 1975, my junior year. We were playing in what ended up being like a 6-3 Hollidaysburg win. I played center and was the long snapper for the Central High Scarlet Dragons. I snapped for a punt and headed up the field. The returner took off to my right, I started to turn, and a kid nailed me blind side on a peal back block near the sideline. Knocked me under the the home team bench right at the horn for the end of the first half.
I woke up hearing my father shouting over the Hollidaysburg band, "Jeff, are you OK?" I didn't realize it at first but what I was looking at was the bottom of the bench. It was surreal. Darkness, band music, my father's voice, and this wooden structure. Then my offensive line coach, Freddy Guyer, appeared out of nowhere and pulled me out and up to my knees. He helped me into those crappy visitor showers they had and I puked my guts out for the remainder of the half time. Then the team doc, Doc. Burket, said, "you're fine...get in there!" So I played the rest of the game. Don't remember any of it...but I played.
