"The door is open to anybody who wants to attempt this," says Linda Bache, general manager for the Chicago Force, one of 49 teams in the Independent Women's Football League. "You have to be 18 and female, that's really the only stipulation."

So of course, I showed up at the tryout in my workout gear.

I'm joining the women's tackle football team as quarterback for training camp, for a story for ESPN the Magazine, and what I hope will be some Plimpton-esque pieces on the Huffington Post. And between now and the public scrimmage in which I'm actually going to play in April, I'm sure there'll be some foolishness to share here at Writing Boots, too.

I've attended the tryout and a rookie camp and so far my feelings range from shy to sheepish. (My discomfort is painfully evident as I flee from Walter Payton's smokin' hot daughter to get out of a camera shot.) These, not coincidentally, are the same feelings that prevented me from fulfilling my my fond football dreams and joining the junior high boys team when I was 12.

As they say, courage doesn't mean not having fear, it means overcoming your fear, 27 years later.

A month ago when my dad caught wind of this scheme, he yelled at me: "Christ, you'll be killed!" I dismissed him as a worrywart. But in my notes from the tryout it reads—I don't remember writing it—"WHAT AM I DOING?"

Well, at the moment I'm watching game film ….

The speech was a little long and my mind wandered in places. But these words matched the moment:

We
remain a young nation, but in the words of Scripture, the time has come
to set aside childish things. The time has come to reaffirm our
enduring spirit; to choose our better history; to carry forward that
precious gift, that noble idea, passed on from generation to
generation: the God-given promise that all are equal, all are free, and
all deserve a chance to pursue their full measure of happiness.

In reaffirming the greatness of our nation, we understand that
greatness is never a given. It must be earned. Our journey has never
been one of short-cuts or settling for less. It has not been the path
for the faint-hearted—for those who prefer leisure over work, or seek
only the pleasures of riches and fame. Rather, it has been the
risk-takers, the doers, the makers of things—some celebrated but more
often men and women obscure in their labor, who have carried us up the
long, rugged path towards prosperity and freedom.

For us, they packed up their few worldly possessions and traveled across oceans in search of a new life.

For us, they toiled in sweatshops and settled the West; endured the lash of the whip and plowed the hard earth.

For us, they fought and died, in places like Concord and Gettysburg;
Normandy and Khe Sahn. Time and again these men and women struggled and
sacrificed and worked till their hands were raw so that we might live a
better life. They saw America as bigger than the sum of our individual
ambitions; greater than all the differences of birth or wealth or
faction.

This is the journey we continue today. We remain the most
prosperous, powerful nation on Earth. Our workers are no less
productive than when this crisis began. Our minds are no less
inventive, our goods and services no less needed than they were last
week or last month or last year. Our capacity remains undiminished. But
our time of standing pat, of protecting narrow interests and putting
off unpleasant decisions—that time has surely passed. Starting today,
we must pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and begin again the work
of remaking America.

What did you think of the speech? I'm writing some brochure copy all afternoon; I'd love to yak about the speech in between bullet points.

I click on MSNBC and the first words out of Andrea Mitchell's mouth declare that she has just spoken with young speechwriter Jon Favreau, who wanted to remain off-camera and behind the scenes "of course," Mitchell said, but who said "he is just so excited to hear his words read today. It was a collaborative effort of course …."