Based on the true-life story of Michael Oher, who played football for the University of Mississippi, the Baltimore Ravens, Tennessee Titans, and eventually the Carolina Panthers, 2009’s The Blind Side is a must-see film for many reasons. Not only is it a dramatic, feel-good story, but it also stars Sandra Bullock, who walked away with several honors for her performance, including an Academy Award, a Golden Globe, and a Screen Actors Guild Award.
This column isn’t really about the movie, although I highly recommend watching it for anyone who hasn’t seen it. Rather, this article is about my own personal experience that closely mimicked one of my favorite scenes from the movie.
In the film, an overzealous fan—unaware that Sandra Bullock’s character is #74’s mother—says, “That’s my boy, Jimmy #66, kickin’ the blue gum’s ass.” As the scene plays out, she stands up and says, “Yo, Deliverance, you see #74? Well, that’s my son.” All the while, her husband, played by Tim McGraw, sits quietly beside her, laughing.
Our son Christopher plays linebacker at Hardin-Simmons University in Abilene, and he’s good! Seriously, y’all, I’m not just a biased mama—colleges don’t scout average players. Their conference is tough, with some fierce rivalries.
In my humble opinion, good football etiquette dictates that if you ain’t saying something nice about a player, then you best keep yo’ mouth shut! After all, just like in The Blind Side, there’s a good possibility the mama of whoever you’re badmouthing is sitting within earshot.
On a warm fall evening, sitting in the visitor stands at East Texas Baptist University in Marshall, another overzealous fan got a little carried away. Our son was on the punt return team for Hardin-Simmons. It was a short kick by East Texas, and his teammates were calling out the code to let Chris know the ball was close, so he needed to run out of bounds, which is exactly what he did.
For reasons known only to God, ‘Deliverance’ yelled out, “Who’s that #35? He doesn’t know what he’s doing. He ought to be benched. What is his name?” After looking his number up in the program, “Deliverance” continued, “Chris Miller. If I were the coach, I’d bench that boy.”
Let me tell you—this mama was just about to jump up and let “Deliverance” have it! That is my boy, he was slandering. My boy who loves the game and plays it with all his heart. My boy who knows exactly what he’s doing on the field and did absolutely nothing deserving of criticism. My boy whose number the announcer had been calling out all night: “On the tackle, #35 Chris Miller.”
Knowing this Mama Bear’s propensity for going 0–75 in .7 seconds—particularly where my baby boy is concerned—my husband placed his hand firmly on my knee, turned around, and calmly said, “Sir, #35 is my son.” You should’ve seen the look on Deliverance’s face. He stammered, “I’m really sorry—I just want to win.” To which my husband responded, “So does he.”
On the way home, we rehashed what had occurred. My husband genially stated, “I knew immediately I had to jump up before you did—otherwise we were going to have a ‘Yo, Deliverance’ moment just like in The Blind Side. I don’t think I would’ve called him Crotch Mouth like she did—more than likely it would’ve come out, ‘Hey Jack@$$…’”
As the season progressed and Chris continued to rack up tackles and get mentioned in conference write-ups, I wondered if “Deliverance” had a come-to-Jesus meeting where he realized the type of player Chris really is. He did.
This time it was a blustery winter afternoon in McMinnville, Oregon. We were patiently awaiting kickoff for the first round of the championship playoffs when—who should walk up to our seats, stop, and say, “Your boy has really had a great season”? You got it: none other than “Deliverance” himself.
I just smiled and thought, “Mmm hmm, been feeling mighty guilty about those thoughtlessly spoken words, I bet.” I’ll give him this—“Deliverance” was absolutely right. Chris had a stellar season, missing the equivalent of two games due to an injury, yet still landed as the #3 defensive tackler. #thatsmyboy
What can we learn here? Well, what your mama probably tried to instill in you since preschool: “If you ain’t got nothing nice to say, then don’t say anything at all”—especially within earshot of someone else’s mama!
Until Next Time,
Becky J. Miller
“Warrior Princess”
*Originally published on Corridor News, December 28, 2017. Shared here with full author rights.
Miller, Becky J. (2017, December 28). Living Outside The Lines: “Yo, Deliverance!” – Corridor News.
https://smcorridornews.com/living-outside-the-lines-yo-deliverance/