In June of 2004, I joined a semi-professional football team. This was strange for three reasons.
First, I was nearly 40 years old.
Second, I stood about five feet eight and weighed 160 pounds. After a full meal.
Third, I had never played a down of real football -- helmets, pads, referees, possible pain, humiliation, and broken bones -- in my entire life.
Pray for me.
Thus begins my second book, Just Kick It: Tales of an Underdog, Over-Age, Out-of-Place Semi-Pro Football Player. Rather than giving you the entire synopsis myself, I’ll let one of the more noted critics -- Booklist, which gave the book an elusive starred review -- do the honors:
“In the tradition of George Plimpton's Paper Lion (1967), St. Amant shares the experience of his first year on the Boston Panthers…. Portions are laugh-out-loud funny, but, at other times, reading through misty eyes will be a challenge. St. Amant documents the timeless magic of team sports, and his words will take former athletes back to the best moments of their sporting lives. A good bet to be one of the year's best sports books.”
Still not sold? But wait, there’s more! Here’s what Nick Bakay – writer/producer of “King of Queens” and co-writer of “Paul Blart: Mall Cop” -- had to say:
“A very funny journey - sort of like the Old Man and the Sea meets The Longest Yard. St. Amant provides a lot of answers for every dude with man breasts who thinks he can still play the game."
Okay, enough about my man breasts (which, incidentally, are real and spectacular). Let’s get to a few FAQ’s I’ve received since the book came out:
Q. Are you still playing for the Panthers?
A. No. While I originally planned to only play the one season for the book, I ended up playing for two years afterward (2005 and 2006). But then, something even more important to me than football came along – my daughter – and, well, combined with my work schedule, I just didn’t have the time anymore. But, yes, I still miss it. Miss the guys. The laughs. The pride of seeing someone feel a little bit better about his life because of football. Hell, I even miss the butterflies that ravaged my abdomen every single time I lined up for so much as an extra point. I don’t, however, miss sweaty locker room smell. Tag or Axe should harvest that, package it into aerosol cans and re-sell it as either a new scent called "Revulsion", or a sexy new brand of mace.
Q. Did you ever get seriously hurt?
A. No, thankfully. The most “serious” football-related injury I ever had – I almost feel like I should turn in my testicles at the door for even mentioning it – was a lost toenail. It happened on an errant punt snap. (I also became the team’s punter in my final two seasons.) Ball sailed over my head. I sprinted after it. Dove. Curled up into a heroic fetal position around the football. A manatee disguised as an opponent fell on top of me. Stepped on my foot in the process. Toenail turned purple that night. Then black a few days later. Then fell off. I still wear it around my neck as a talisman to ward off evil spirits.
Q. Is it true that Adam Vinatieri’s kicking coach said that if he’d started training you when you got out of college, you could have played in the NFL?
A. Bittersweetly, yes. While I was flattered that, after only a one-day training session, legendary kicking coach Doug Blevins (Vinatieri, David Akers, Olindo Mare, among others) said I could have made the bigtime had he gotten his hands on me when I was 22, it also depressed me. Would have been a nice way to make a living all these years. In related news, I’m suing the NFL for $37.4 million in lost wages that I should have received over the past two decades. They haven’t returned my calls yet. But I did get an official, Roger Goodell-signed restraining order out of it.
Q. What’s a home spring cleaning project that would also double as a terrible name for a female porn star?
A. Musty Basement.
Q. And a male porn star?
A. Leaky Gutters.
Q. What’s your longest field goal?
A. In practice, 52 yards, but that’s with no rush, no game pressure, etc. etc. My longest in a game, however, which you can view here, is 42-yards. And it was with time expiring at the end of the first half in a playoff game. So, does that make a hero? Yes. Yes it does.
Q. Are you writing a third book?
A. Trying to think of the next idea as we speak. And because you foolishly gave me your email at some point, believe me, you’ll be the first to know when it’s coming out. Oh, speaking of getting some of your private information, when you see that $3,500 charge on your Discover card for something called "The Punisher" at Dennis Hof’s World Famous Bunny Ranch, it wasn't me.
Q. Can you pass on my 500,000-word Sci-Fi/Erotica/coming-of-age novel to your agent/publisher?
A. While I wish I could help out everyone who’s asked me this, the answer, sadly, is no. My agent isn’t a big fan of his writers pimping friends’, friends of friends’ and illegitimate children/in-laws/former college roommates of friends’ book ideas to him. That said, I’m more than happy to shed whatever light I can on the agent-search process, publishing, anything else, should you have any specific questions. It can be confusing, frustrating journey; believe me, I know. And God knows I was clueless when I first started my book-writing endeavors (and still am but shhhhh, don’t tell anyone). So fire away to mark@markstamant.com.
Q. Of the largest per capita number of a-holes on America's highways today, what make of car do they typically drive?
A. If someone’s riding your ass and flashing his lights, usually while wearing a backwards baseball hat, an American Eagle T-shirt, spitting dip juice into a Red Bull can, and listening to Nelly. . . he’s inevitably in a Nissan Maxima.
Q. Do you want to be in my fantasy football/baseball league this year?
A. Unless it’s a league based at the Playboy mansion, or you want to spring for the divorce lawyer I’d inevitably need after joining yet another league and alienating my beleaguered wife once and for all, sorry, but the answer’s no.
Q. Where do babies come from?
A. From mommies and daddys who love each other. If not there, then the Ukrainian black market.
Q. Are there any players you hate so much you’d never draft them again?
A. While I’d never say never, right now, based on how little he gave me in the high-stakes Vegas WCOFF league last season, I’d rather have Roman Polanski babysit my daughter than own L.T. again.
Q. Is there anywhere I can see video of the team, or, better yet, of you being interviewed about the team while wearing an unfortunate teal-colored polo shirt and looking like a complete knob?
A. Why, yes there is! http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&VideoID=4870640
2008 Mark St. Amant