Some folks set their body clocks by the flight of swallows returning to Capistrano. Others mark the Calendar by the thwack of a baseball bat in early spring. To many it's the first snow of winter or the smell of leaves burning in the fall. (Alas, if certain council members get their way, it won't be the sweet smell of smoke from chimney fires on Christmas Day).

In St. Helena, there's nothing like the first week of August. No, it's not the harvest that gets the heart pumping. It's the annual Carpy Gang Football Sign up. Soon the green of Carpy field (or up at the RLS) will be dotted with red helmets and numbered jerseys as young children pinball off one another attempting to master the techniques of blocking and tackling.

Actually, they are not out there to learn to block and tackle. Those are just skills which any child can master over time as he or she masters a pleat or free throw. What the child is doing out there--and what separates football from any other team sport--is learning to overcome fear. He is also learning about love. It is not easy.

Football is a violent game. It is atavistic. Beautiful, in its symmetry and simplicity. Hard "hits" are cheered. The threat of physical injury, though rare at this age, is very real. A child's eyes become bigger than his shoulder pads. They're all scared to death.

A terrible beauty is born.

Football has critics. And the critics have a point. What can be good about a game that has been accused of producing bullies, thugs, wife beaters, drug addicts, rapists, and maybe a murderer or two?

Should we encourage a sport which promotes aggressive behavior? Does football create wife beaters and addicts? Are bullies drawn to a game that promotes physical contact? Or are we talking a chicken and egg thing here?

Football is a far cry from actual war. But there are some attributes in common. In his seminal book about the Battle of Thermopylae, Steve Pressfield presents the following (edited) dialogue between two Spartan warriors.

"What is the opposite of fear?"

"To call it aphobia, fearlessness is without meaning. This is just thesis expressed as antithesis."

"Dogs in a pack find courage to take on a lion. Each hound knows his place. He fears the dog ranked above and feeds off the fear of the dog below. Fear conquers fear. This is how we Spartans do it, counter posing to fear of death a greater fear: that of dishonor. Of exclusion from the pack."

"But is this courage? Is not acting out of fear of dishonor still, in essence action out of fear"?

"You young men imagine we veterans have mastered fear. But we feel it as keenly as you. Fear lives within us 24 hours a day."

"We cobble our courage together. Fear of disgracing the city, the king, the heroes of our lines. Fear of proving ourselves unworthy of our wives and children…I know all the tricks…I know how to close with my man, how to convince myself that his terror is greater than my own. I employ care for the men serving beneath me and seek to forget my own fear in concern for their survival. But it is always there."

"When a warrior fights not for himself, but for his brothers, when his most passionately sought goal is neither glory nor his own life's preservation, but to spend his substance for his comrades, not to abandon them, not to prove unworthy of them, then his heart has truly achieved contempt for death, and with that he transcends himself and his actions touch the sublime.

"Forget country. Forget king. Forget wife and children and freedom. Act for this alone: for the man who stands at your shoulder. He is everything, and everything is contained within him."

"The opposite of fear, is love."

I'm not saying Mr. Carpy had these goals in mind when he started Carpy Gang back in the 30's. Maybe he was just helping to get kids off the street, teaching discipline, character, hard work, and sacrifice. Those ingredients are essential in an agricultural community. However, George Davis knew all about it when he coached us during the win streak of the 60's. (We even formed up in a Spartan phalanx before each game and paraded in step around the field).

He knew that despite our teen age strutting, that like teens the world over we were scared stiff. He used the violent nature of football as the vehicle to teach us to overcome our fear--the vehicle that taught us how to love.

Love. It's why over the hill pros find it so hard to retire. They rarely articulate it. But it's why they always reference the locker room--the camaraderie--the guys.

Love. The last word one might associate with the violent world of Sam Huff. Those ten to fourteen year olds may not know it, but they are about to enter a world where physical fear teaches them the capacity to love. It's an oxymoron, not readily transferable by mere words. One has to live it to understand it.

If you want your kid to learn to love, Call Catherine Carpy Heywood (965-2975). O r coach Artie Car 965-2975. 963-4524). Sign up. Tomorrow, Friday is the first day of practice.
(There is a fee, and James Warren & Son will pick up the tab for any child who wants to play but can't afford to pay.