Tackling Henry
To know Hank was to love him. He was a big-time prankster, starting in high school in Connecticut when we were together and then into college where he remained the same as in high school as evidenced by his stories. We went to different colleges. After college we got corporate jobs in different states, not to communicate very often over the years. But his emails in his retirement the last few years reminded me where we left off long ago and show the prankish comic he was in his early days when we were together. He didn't change much. This was mostly evidenced by his sarcasm about current events, mostly strong potitical satire which he wore on his sleeve.Everyone receiving these emails knew where he stood. But this story is not about politics. This is about football. Hank was a hell of a fullback in our senior year at Fairfield Prep. Our team ended at 7-3 for the season and it could have been better with a few breaks. The previous year Fairfield Prep was undefeated and state champs and most of those starting players graduated. So Hank inherited the fullback position. I was also on the team. When we held weekly practice scrimmages during the season I was usually playing defensive back while the first team was running through offensive plays. Our coaches were all around those scrimmages so you really couldn't screw up or you'd look like an idiot. Now, for all who have played at any level, you know the name of the game is hitting other people.The harder you hit the better chance to impress the coaches. On defense that rule is most prevalent, particularly in the defensive backfield position, when the offensive players are carrying the ball and running in the open field. The defense must tackle those ball carriers, either on a pass play or a running play. When Henry was carrying the ball and the offensive line opened a hole for him, if he got past the linebackers into the defensive backfield and was headed my way I had to make the tackle because I was the only thing between him and the goal line. I was fairly fast so he had difficulty running around me. The problem was when he decided to run over me and this is the point of the story.Henry carried most of his 200 plus pounds below the waist. His legs were enormous. In fact, I never looked at them as legs, but as tree trunks. Or, maybe you could call them stove pipes, or whatever. Picture two tree trunks coming directly at you at considerable speed and you are the one assigned to bring them to the ground. When I saw that situation developing with Henry breaking through the line and coming at me in the open field building up a head of steam with his tree trunks, my feeling was always "this may not work out". In that situation it is something like medieval jousting. It was one on one. My strategy was not to go too low because if he raised his knees I would have my teeth for dinner. Rather, I would try to tackle him at the waist and hang on to bring him down and this seemed to work although he did run over me on a few occasions and, as I said above, this is very embarrassing because the coaches (and other players) are always looking and because you can get yourself killed. This image I have of Henry coming directly at me through a hole in the offensive line into the backfield and me watching his hips as to which way he is going to go and expecting a collision remains vivid with me to this day. None other of our players knew this story but Henry knew it and this is why I called him Henry and I was getting back at him. And further, I would always ask him, every time I saw him, "how are your legs today, Henry" ? And he would say nothing, he would just chuckle. And I also told him if he could only have raised his knees higher I would never have been able to bring him down. And he would just chuckle. Problem was, he was unable to raise his knees any higher. As it turned out, UConn made him an offensive guard where you don't have to raise your knees. God bless my friend, Hank Connors. May he rest in peace.
Bob Capozzi