Center Stage.  CBC High School Theater, St. Louis.  1984.

Yep. Abject panic…and the second scariest day that week (more on that in a minute). My palms are sweating even as I start to type this a few (honestly many) years later.

One Sunday, after hockey practice, a few of us super macho, tough, manly hockey dudes were pulling back into the parking lot of our high school where we’d left our cars to pool up and get to the rink.  We were joking, laughing, belching, and generally carrying on as hockey dudes do, and smelling like, well, teenage hockey dudes…and we noticed that there were theater auditions going on for the winter musical.

Our amazing powers of perception were alerted when we saw actual girls walking into our (all-boys) high school.  On a Sunday.

We instantly became thespians.

We went into the theater, and sat in the back, trying to make time with the girls, and making fun of the guys who were auditioning.  All in good fun.  Until the theater director, Tom Murray (a mentor, friend, and mensch) told us we had to audition, or get out.

The Road Runner would have been proud of what happened next.  The hockey dudes were like the grease in the bowl of Dawn dishwashing liquid.  Gone.  Repelled.  Vapor.

It was down to me, and Kevin Quirk…and we decided that we’d stay, and do it as a lark.  (But really just to meet the chicks).

…and then there’s the moment where it’s your turn.  You watch the names on the list, one by one, going by until there are only two places to run.  Out the rear theater door to embarrassment, shame, humiliation, mocking (and no chicks’ phone numbers) or to the center of the stage where there’s embarrassment, shame, humiliation, mocking (and no chicks’ phone numbers).

Getting to the middle of the stage was hard enough on rubber legs, but then the spotlight hits you.  And the piano starts the song you’re going to sing.

Fade to black.

…and as I said, that’s the second most terrifying day of that week.

The next morning, I arrived at school, and all through the halls, dudes (hockey and otherwise) are congratulating me.  ”Thanks…but for what???!!”, I said over and over.

“You got the lead in the play.”