I played football for a bad high school team.
I’ll spare you the glory days sob story on how we should have been better and say that we went 2-8 my senior year. I’m wholly at peace with it like any well-adjusted 30-year-old should be, but there are some things from my that I look back on with the additional context of not being a clueless 18-year-old, and this is one of them.
Before each game on Thursday when we completed our walkthroughs, our coaches would keep saying this one phrase over and over, “the hay is in the barn” (yes, I am from Livingston Parish, why do you ask).