Santonyo Bangali (  Football Football Alumni 1994 )

I was lucky enough to part of one of the best programs in NYC and was even luckier enough to have played on one particular Championship Team (1994) that had so much talent. any one player who, just so happened to be, say… third on the depth chart, can get expelled out of Kennedy one day, get transferred to Clinton the next, and not only end up a starter but a captain by the time we met on the field. (See if you know this player's name)

Anyone could have started anywhere, but in 1994, my role on that team was to ensure that everyone else was prepared enough to dominate the way we did during that undefeated season. Great teams have even greater Scout Teams. There is no question to that.

My greatest hit came in practice on one of the best players to ever wear a "K." It was on offensive day, and if anyone is reading the Wing-T as a linebacker, 90 percent of the time, where the guards go, so does the ball. Yeronimo Ceriaco, one of the most dominating, intensifying, and respected linemen ever was truly a student of the game. I remember it like it was yesterday.

It was late. The lights were on, the wind coming in from the water was blowing hard and everyone behind the starting O were huddled together tight, trying their best to shield themselves from the vicious and relentless winds that almost always comes in November. Trap Drill. Over and over and over again, we were running Trap.

Coach Moe was directing the defensive stunts while studying every drop step, double team, and pull on the line.

"Bronx Bronx!" yelled someone.

"Check check,” was what always came immediately afterwards.

Moe's fingers were pointing in every possible direction, while the Scout Team was either acknowledging him with their eyes or by giving him the simplest and most unperceivable nod. He points to me, and drives his elbow back with such force. His fist clenched as he then points to Yeronimo with such intensity. He repeats the motion about two or three more times before Chris Lambert slowly walked behind the center.
On the snap of the ball, I don't ever think I ever exploded off the block any faster than that November night. Those sleds by the rocks were one of the best investments Kennedy could have ever purchased.

Man On Center , Man over Center , first line backer backside , Adjustment False Pull . That was the rule for the play side guard on 34 or 36 Trap. After running the same play almost a dozen times, I knew he was coming at me. He wasn't expecting it, and neither was I. The clash of helmets seized everyone's attention.
Moe's upper lip was fixated above his teeth, and showed the intensity we always looked for whenever the contact was where it was supposed to be; K Squad style.

Horowitz screamed at Lambert. Rick ran to the backs. Moe got in Yeronimo's face. The Scout Team was slapping the back of my helmet as my eyes were fixed on Yernonimo's. I never felt so good.
The Offense was huddled up again. The Center and two ends come out as the rest of the team claps and line up 100.
The intensity was there. His eyes said it all. His lips were puckered the same way they did whenever he was squatting; heavy and long breathes where the spit that flew out was almost sucked back in just as fast. His eyes were somewhere else.

"Coming your way Bangali,' he whispered to me as his fingertips touched the turf. ”I’m coming your way baby. Get ready. It's on set."
I knew the count. It was always on set. I felt the same intensity in my heart. It flowed through his veins every day of his life.

"Let's go baby." I thought to myself.

"Set!"