Football camp An experiment in control 6 Starting over

Author: sddvr
Title: Football camp: An experiment in control #6 Starting over
Date: 23 June 2011

Medical...

Moody took me back to my cell and locked me in. The lights were turned out. I ended up falling asleep as there wasn't a whole lot else to do. About two hours after I fell asleep, they woke me up for a delicious meal of flavorless Nutraloaf and water. At least I was able to sleep. I didn't have the rear assembly of the D jock, since Moody removed it earlier.

Sometime after the 'meal' I began to feel groggy. I already was screwed up due to the lack of sleep from last night, and the interrupted sleep earlier, but now I really felt odd, very drowsy and my coordination was clearly suffering... The guards opened the door and came in, first removing the D jock and then putting some shorts and shoes on me. I was so out of it that I couldn't have understood what was happening. Then both of them pulled me up and took me down the long hallway to medical where a hospital bed was waiting in a private room.

The room was equipped with bed restraints and a TV camera, and my football stuff was piled up on a table, complete with some dirt and grass stains to make it look like I'd been in it. I didn't know all of this then, but all that I did know was that when I woke up was that I was completely screwed up and didn't know what day it was. Some medical people were standing around the bed talking to each other and started asking me weird questions as soon as my eyes opened (but when I was still drugged or fucked up). “Do you feel ok?” one nurse asked. “I mumbled or slurred something close to 'Oh, yeah. I want to run a race. Where are my shoes?' “. No sense of humor, these medical types... Next came “Can you tell me the name of the President?”. I answered “sure it's the guy that invented the internet, Al Gore, right?” The coach who was in the room said “OK. Are you sure?”. I answered “Sorry coach I was just messing around. It's Bush, right?”. Everybody in the room looked at each other. This coach looked familiar, but I couldn't remember his name. I asked “Why am I here, and where is here?”. I realize now that in that state I would have believed whatever they said, so I got the whole (phoney) story about the hit that I took at practice, and how I'd been in there for a couple of days already. They planted all kinds of ideas, replacing or at least confusing the things that I thought that I 'knew' about my family and past. They kept me groggy for another day and kept me restrained in bed. The coach kept coming by and asking questions and checking up on me.

Finally, he showed up again with a couple of 'doctors' and they mainly asked me questions about my past. They said that it might help me with my memory and “putting everything back together”. They asked questions about high school, my family, and my time in the Marines. They spent quite a bit of time on that, asking me to recall missions and places, names, etc. It all kind of made sense to me, but instead of things getting clearer, my memories got more screwed up, especially the recent stuff. They asked if I remembered any dreams, and I started to mention some of the weird happenings on the bus and then I stopped myself. They acted like I was a little nuts. “Wow! That's a weird one. I've never heard a story like that before!” the one doctor said. The other asked “Can you remember how you got here and the days before?” Now I was getting really confused. They started suggesting things that might have happened (which were all wrong of course) and dismissing the weird (but true) stuff that I was remembering. I didn't want to get into the Prison abuse or sexual stuff because they'd think that I was nuts and more bad things might happen to me. I was getting very nervous and asked if they'd come back later.

Anyway, It all worked and they knew it! I was doubting myself and believing some of what they'd planted. They let me off of the drugs after a few days and suggested that they'd put me with another practice squad and that I'd be back on the field again in a couple of days. I began to feel stronger and thought “Sure. Why not. This makes sense.” They were trying to make me feel normal and more confident again. I was in a different building, with different people and I never saw any of what I'd experienced in the previous few days, and all of the abuse and weird shit that had happened to me was just lost or scrambled in my memory. This was easy for me, because none of it ever made any sense to begin with! No more Moody! They finally removed the restraints but kept the room locked and watched me closely for the remainder of my time there. I've never really completely trusted my memory since all of this happened. Even now.

The next time the coach came in and started in with the questions again. I asked him “Were you ever in the Marine Corps? You look familiar, but I can't think of your name or where we might have met.” Looking back now, I think that I remembered him from the hallway outside my cell. I remembered him looking at me an turning away. Mainly, I remembered his Captains Bars. He answered “No. I'm sorry. You must have had quite a dream and you had lots of time to dream! But this is common, don't worry.”

I was in medical a few more days until finally the doctors gave me a clean bill of health and the coach came to collect me and my gear, and take me to meet my new coaches and practice squad. He said “I thought it best to start you all over again from reception. You don't seem to really remember any of it from before, and we'll keep an eye on you to make sure that you don't get messed up again. The doctors say that you're ok for full contact, so... You ready to go? You feel 100%?” In case you don't know, The correct answer to give a football coach is always an enthusiastic “YES Coach!”

He took me over to my new dorm that was outside of the high security area where I'd been held for he past few days. The building had a team room, bedrooms, a mini-gym and locker room, as well as a dining area. This was far from the jail like setting of the other place. I also noticed that I had a yellow wristband now. The coach showed me to my room and told me that a new squad was arriving in a few hours and that I should go through orientation with them. So I lifted in the gym for a while and ate. I felt pretty normal again.

The new guys...

The coach came into the lounge where I was watch a game on TV and told me that the bus was arriving and that I should be standing out in the yard in the yellow footprints when they arrived. I'd just be starting all over again. I was out there like a shot and ready to go. The bus doors opened and the guys started filing out and forming ranks in the now familiar yellow footprints. None of them seemed to know each other and most had military haircuts. All had yellow wristbands on.

The coach delivered a speech explaining the camp goals and rules to us. There was a curfew. The meal hours, session times and all of the usual stuff, with a few interesting exceptions. We were told that we were part of a unique experiment, that aimed to dramatically increase athletic performance through a personalized measurement and goal setting program. We would be individually monitored, trained, rewarded and punished, if necessary. Everything would be dependent on our performance improvements and our response to the training. He said that later, we'd be grouped by performance and pushed to our limits. He talked about 'advanced electronic performance monitoring' and stuff like that. Except for the electronic part, It sounded like a coach telling you that you'd work harder for him than anybody in your life... Blah, Blah, Blah... They always tell you that. But, this had a weird sound to it. Reward? Punishment? I've never heard that before. What are they gonna do? Spank me? Make me watch Barney the dinosaur? They'd probably make me run laps, or do pushups. Something lame like that. Oh well.

We spent the next couple of hours collecting and getting fitted with our gear. It was pretty nice stuff, some of which I'd never seen before. We were reminded that it was the latest and greatest, and that plus the personal attention and special high intensity training is what we signed up for.

After everybody had their gear issue, we were told to suit up and form up out on the grinder. That's what we called it in the military. It's a parade ground really. It only took a few minutes and everybody was out there, ready, really ready to go.

The coach arrived and announced that we'd be spending the afternoon doing individual skill assessments, which consisted of running and sprinting, and various agility tests. After the sprints we were organized into groups based on speed. I'm not that fast, but not bad, so I ended up in the second to the slowest group. The groups were taken to different parts of the field so that they could work independently under the watchful eye of a coach. The coach announced that the worst time for our group was 15 seconds, and that it would be 12 today. We would run until the slowest guy was at 12 seconds. It turns out that I was the slowest guy. This would not be fun as I was getting hot and tired already. So each of us ran it, hard! The result, was no better.

The coach said “Ok. Some of you are about to learn about our new technology.. Ninety-Five (that was me) Run it again! This time put some effort into it! Move your ass!” I launched and ran as fast as I could. I crossed the line and “Beep”. Oh no! I recognized that beep and then felt a shock on my balls. It wasn't like the full-on kick in the balls that I'd felt before, or thought that I did, or... I dreamed or whatever... When I came back around the coach asked “You feel anything funny after that last sprint?” I answered, “Yeah coach! What was that?” He answered your girdle has electronics in it that can tell us how hard you're working, how much you could do, and lets us give you a little 'cock shock' when you're not delivering to your potential or you fuck up. So DON'T FUCK UP! I can set it so that you'll run those sprints until you get to a target that I set, or you'll wish that you had. It's not always fun, but it is VERY effective. Every failure will turn things up a notch and you'll try harder. I promise.” I looked concerned. “Great coach. I'll do my best!” He answered me with a funny look “Yes! You sure as shit will! If you don't, this REALLY won't be much fun for you. But you'll improve faster than you ever thought possible!

“OK.” He said. “I've set you for 12 seconds, so it's going to run you until you make it three times in a row. If you don't make it by the end of the day, you'll go before the disciplinary board and they'll make adjustments in your training.” That sounded ominous. I felt like I was a slave to a machine.

“You're on the system, NOW! Start!” He barked.

I started running and crossed the line wondering if I was going to hear the dreaded beep.
“Fuck!” it sounded, and the pain followed. “Better! 14 seconds. See? You're improving!”
It continued like this until I finally made 12 seconds once, and then failed the next time.

The pain kept getting more intense. I was in trouble.