Thirty years ago this August, I started my freshman year at Jackson Central-Merry High School. I can still remember my schedule:
1st Period: English 1
2nd Period: Keyboarding
3rd Period: Biology 1
4th Period: Algebra 1
5th Period: Chorus
6th Period: Basketball
When my schedule was mailed to me in July before I would start in August, I thought my 6th period class might be a mistake.
I was literally the youngest person in the entire school during my ninth grade year. My birthday is in late October, and my well-meaning parents started me in Kindergarten before I turned five therefore setting in motion a tough road ahead for a boy – the youngest and often one of the smallest students in the grade until I finally hit my stride when I was 15. But that first day at JCM, I was only 13 and well behind my peers on the basketball team from a physical standpoint.
During the first three months of school, we would practice in the basement of the Oman Arena during 6th period. We’d run A1, A2, and A3 – a version of a motion offense in which I would pass the ball and screen opposite and hope to hell I didn’t get the ball back. I knew there wasn’t a chance for much playing time, but having basketball as a class still beat anything else that would’ve been in its place on the schedule. I figured I could lay low enough to not get hurt and, hopefully, not hurt the team with my lack of size. I was just going to ride this out as long as I could. That all changed in early November.
JCM’s football team always made deep runs in the state play-offs in the mid-90’s. In 1993, they made it all the way to the semi-finals where they lost to Lincoln County, and the next week the football players who played basketball joined us during 6th period and reality hit me like a ton of bricks…or like Al Wilson’s shoulders which were basically the same thing.
When Al walked onto the floor of Oman Arena, he was a 6’2 225 pound junior in high school who was being recruited by every NCAA 
Division 1 school in the country. I, on the other hand, was a 5’6 140 pound freshman who knew my time on the high school court was coming to an end and church league was beckoning. Al Wilson and I didn’t belong on the same athletic playing court; he was just built differently.
As someone who grew up in the 90’s, Al Wilson is the athlete that always comes to mind when I think of elite football players who were Jackson grown. But for people of other generations, there are different athletes that come to mind.
Ed “Too Tall” Jones was a football hero in Dallas for years. Northside alum Sylvester Hicks played defensive end for the Kansas City Chiefs. Trey Teague (USJ) was an offensive lineman at the University of Tennessee and teammates with Al Wilson on the Denver Broncos before finishing his career with the Buffalo Bills and the New York Jets.
When I graduated from JCM in 1997, I had no idea that I was sitting a few seats down from a future Super Bowl 
participant in Artis Hicks. Artis played for several teams in the NFL including the Philadelphia Eagles’ Super Bowl team in 2004.
When I was in college at Union University, I drove to South Side High School one Friday night and watched Jabari Greer play for the 
Hawks. Nearly a decade later, I watched him defeat my football idol Brett Favre in the NFC Championship. Two weeks later, Greer and the New Orleans Saints beat Tennessee hero Peyton Manning in the Super Bowl.
In a few days, another Jackson grown athlete will take center stage in the championship game of the most popular sport in America.
Trey Smith gets paid a lot of money to protect what most analysts believe is the best quarterback in football – Patrick Mahomes. Just a few years ago, Trey was manhandling local linemen on Kirkland Field at USJ. Like Al Wilson and Trey Teague before him, Trey Smith took his talents to Knoxville, overcame a health scare, and will be center stage in the biggest game of the year on Sunday night.
Like I did with Al and Artis and Jabari, I crossed paths with Trey before he hit the big time, but he probably wouldn’t remember me. He was far too young.
My first job in education was at USJ where Trey’s sister, Ashley, was a great basketball player in middle school and high school. She was disciplined, fundamental, and outworked nearly everyone. I helped coach the middle school boys’ team, but stepped in to coach the girls for a couple of games during her 8th grade year. I still remember beating our rival, TCA, that season. I can also remember Trey – five or six years old at the time – cheering on his sister at the games.
My first few years in education seem like another life. In a lot of ways, it was another life. I’m sure when Trey lines up on the field in Arizona on Sunday, Jackson will be the furthest thing from his mind. But Trey will be on nearly every television set in the ‘01 and the ‘05.
Each day when I walk down the hall to teach English at my alma mater, I see in my periphery the images of famous alumni of JCM – Van Jones, Wesley McClure, Al Wilson, Austin Merry. It’s easy to take them for granted. I think it’s the same thing with success stories like the ones mentioned here. Let’s not take them for granted, though. Let’s celebrate them.
I’ve lived my entire life in Jackson, and I think there’s a toughness to this town; I think there’s something here besides elite genetics that allows a town our size to produce so many athletes of a professional caliber.
When we watch Trey take the field on Sunday night, let’s celebrate him and also remember all of the players that came before him who made it to the highest level of their sport.
Jackson grown; Jackson proud.
