My Webb Weekly articles are submitted on Friday. My lovely editor, Steph, will occasionally reach out when it is way past my deadline. YO. NEED YOUR ARTICLE BRO. Everything is finished except for this page. I am not kidding. I used to leave her hanging. Never my intention. Sometimes work gets in the way. I am a part-time mobile freelance scribe who suffers from acute series three procrastination. But I am getting better. And this is simply a disclaimer. Just in case I miss a few columns.

There are so many great stories to share. It is a splendid time of year. Week two of the high school sports season is over. College football started this weekend. How about my man Tom Cillo and the Lycoming Warriors? The 58-year-old freshman is trending. Fantastic stuff.

Instead of recapping a game several days later. I usually find a tale in there somewhere. I look forward to getting back in the booth this fall. Hazleton at Williamsport first. Perhaps you had a chance to tune in. I take great pride in being a play-by-play announcer. My mom always told me that I had a face for radio. Some are totally puzzled when they see me plug in my headset. I still get asked when I am shaking hands. WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT FOOTBALL? AREN’T YOU A BASKETBALL GUY, SPENCER? Yes. It is a popular topic.

Look. I have been calling games for 27 years. Dead serious. I usually have a resume in my back pocket. I just gave one to Karl Ravesh. You never know. I got my start in college. I was a student broadcaster for 91.7 WLYC and the Lycoming Warriors. I had so much fun in those three great seasons. My senior years. Doctorate program? No. Just a Bachelor’s. I traveled in the same van with WRAK legends Buck Byham and Ken Sawyer. I was a sponge. Those guys taught me a lot. Tons of pointers. Paint the picture, kid. No one cares about your politics. Frank Girardi and I became friends. He would invite me over to chat before the games. Every Friday in his office for 30 minutes. Coach G always made time for me and our 35 listeners. I will never forget. Rubbing elbows with the very best.

I was with many other outfits for the next several years. It was hard. I never found a home. The sponsors went elsewhere. Radio was getting replaced. TV and streaming became kings. Smartphones took over. Computers were everywhere. Tablets too. San Dimas High School Football rules! My game checks started bouncing. Teach got pissed. I needed to regroup. My hobby and side gigs were in shambles. Everything changed when I hooked up with IPTSPORTSNET.

We are not on the radio. We are online. The picture is perfect, and the commentators are quite alright. Nick Caringi is our leader. Young Kyle operates the cameras. Mike Lundy and I call the games. Our broadcasts are live via YouTube, and they can be viewed worldwide. We have tons of fans in other places. My folks in California always tune in. I love hearing all the feedback. Even if it is bad. One of my chums who is stationed in Japan gave me a shout. I don’t pay much attention to the comments. YOU SOUND GREAT WHEN I HIT MUTE. It is just nice to know they streamed in.

Back to the question. Besides broadcasting. I do know a few things about football. No one could beat me in Madden or Super Tecmo. So, I only played one year of organized ball at Curtin Middle School. I was a third-string receiver and a fourth-string corner. My playing time was VERY limited. I was primarily used as a tackling dummy at practice. Coach Bobby Lynn said I had great hands, but he was concerned for my personal safety. Coach didn’t use signals or fancy note cards; he used the receivers to relay the plays. We were a running team like most junior high squads. Out of 50 downs, we would throw the ball maybe once.

I finally got my opportunity. I will never forget. We had a few injuries and several disciplinary problems. Don’t steal lightbulbs in Brandon Park, kids. I quickly moved up the depth chart. I was the only option left. Coach Lynn grabbed me by the facemask and said BLUE RIGHT 34 BLAST. A run to the right. My first bit of action. I was so excited. I ran to the huddle, but totally forgot the play. I turned to the quarterback and improvised. BLUE RIGHT 50 Z GO TE DRAG.

I was on top of the formation. Lycoming Valley didn’t see me as a threat. We ran the ball the previous 24 times. I was on an island. Our QB dropped back to pass. I could only imagine Coach’s reaction. SPENCER! I didn’t stop to look. I was concentrating on my route. I ran to the corner of the endzone. Again. I was all alone. A tight spiral was heading my way. The ball was in the air forever. It was dead silent. I said a quick prayer and somehow managed to gather the pigskin in my hands. Mr. Larry Bassett gave me some love. TOUCHDOWN. JAMIE SPENCER. The crowd went wild. What a fantastic memory. I decided to hang up my helmet the following season. I wanted to concentrate more on chorus and golf. It was a great move for everyone involved. Cheers.