In addition to my weekly ball boy duties for the St. Cloud Bulldogs varsity football team, I occasionally get to deliver the pre-game motivational speech. My luck… I always draw the tough "can't win" assignments.

I remember when Coach Lou Holtz had me speak to South Carolina's Gamecocks. They had just entered the new millennium in the midst of their horrible 21-game losing streak. "And now… here's the motivational speaker!" I suppose if they were undefeated, they wouldn't need a motivational speaker.

After having done scores of these presentations all over the south in both high school and colleges, I've learned that the simple fact is you can't motivate anybody to do anything they don't already want to do. I truly feel that every player is motivated to win, but sometimes Goliath prevails.

Case in point, I recently gave my "David versus Goliath" speech to the St. Cloud Bulldogs right before they unsuccessfully ventured to Lakeland to take on the powerful, nationally ranked Dreadnaughts. Lakeland is a team that has won six state championships and two back-to-back National Championships. Talking about feeling intimidated…

Lakeland has a stadium that seats 8,000 screaming fans and most of the seats are full on Friday nights. The multi-million dollar facility just recently had artificial turf installed. They even have a live video feed that fills a half-million dollar video screen in the south end zone. This is big time high school football on a national scale.

I only felt more intimidated when I spoke at Texas A&M as the Aggies were playing National Champion arch-rival Texas back in 2005. The David versus Goliath speech didn't work then either. Sometimes Goliath wins.

Let's face it- Goliath was a nine foot giant soldier from Garth who bragged that he could beat any Israelite soldier who would dare to fight him. Goliath got his rep the honest way- he beat every foe before David happened along with his sling and the five smooth stones he retrieved from the creek bed. King Saul had wanted David to put on heavy armor and a helmet, but the young shepherd boy would have none of that or the sword that the King tried to give him. He ended up slaying Goliath with the giant's own sword.

How does a much smaller, outsized team from the tiny rural town of St. Cloud, Florida compete with Goliath from Lakeland? The Bulldogs were riddled with injuries and managed to dress fewer than thirty players, less than half of the number that graced the Dreadnaught sidelines.

When I do my ball boy duties, I usually work from the St. Cloud sidelines, but the referees wanted the Bulldog and Dreadnaught ball boys on the home side of the field and the chain crew on the visitor side.

When I introduce myself as the ball boy, the referees usually look at me with a bit of pity in their eyes as if to say "Are you sure you can handle this old man?" They never have to worry about me. I'm not some kid who has an arm in a sling, and he has thus been relegated to the humiliating role of ball boy. I'm 62 years old and probably the oldest ball boy in America today. You do your job Mr. Ref and I'll do mine.

Unlike most ball boys for many teams St. Cloud plays, I actually follow the action and enjoy every minute of it. I'm blessed that the coaches allow me to be a part of it, especially since my son Cory is one of those coaches.

During halftime, I stopped at mid-field to chat with the Head Referee an old-timer like me is on the golden side of his life. I asked him how long he had been refereeing football games and he told me it was close to 50 years. Well, if he can get up and down the field and manage to stay out of the way of people who weigh twice as much as he does, then I can dodge those same guys on the sidelines.

"Why are you still doing this? I asked him. His response: "It keeps me young!" I guess that's why I like being the ball boy and the motivational speaker for the guys, but unfortunately, sometimes Goliath wins.