It takes a certain amount of crazy to play a full-contact sport wearing nothing but a bra and briefs. It also takes a certain amount crazy to do it in front of thousands of strangers, most of whom are taking pictures of you playing.
It also takes a certain amount of crazy to bring ninety of your closest friends and family to watch you do it.
And you really have to be crazy to do it when you’re over thirty.
But that’s exactly what Jennifer Langston does. And she embraces it. She embraces the crazy.
That explains why she does a booty dance every time she scores a touchdown.
And why, after mimicking the referee’s first down signal with a signal of her own, she looks back to make sure her Crazy Jen Nation is watching.
She’s crazy. And she wants you to know it. She even wears a pink visor blinged out with “Crazy Jen” on the band to Tampa’s pre-game warm-ups so that you know she’s crazy.
And if you’re still a doubter, if you still think she’s just faking it, consider this:
She played all but six minutes of a football game with a broken arm and didn’t even know it.
The New York Majesty were wrapping up their winless regular season and Tampa was fighting for a shot at the playoffs. Tampa lost the coin toss and New York elected to receive. Getting the ball across the midfield line on their return, the New York offense set up and scored on their very first play – a forward pass from rookie quarterback Nicole Stanley that put six points on the board against a shocked Tampa team.
Tampa got the ball back and ran a play. Then they ran another one. That’s when it happened.
“I thought it was just a muscle pull, so I kept playing. It wasn’t until later that I found out it was broken.“
The crazy thing is, even with a broken arm, she stayed in the game and managed to make a critical first down catch. And she pointed to the New York end zone, mimicking the ref, and turned to give her fans a big smile so that the Crazy Jen Nation would know it was her.
And because she could still play, she did. In fact, she played very well, adding more yardage to her the touchdowns she had scored against Chicago and the yardage she had against Philadelphia. Each of her touchdown catches were followed by a booty dance, performed with all the enthusiasm a crazy woman can muster.
Later, Tampa scored again. And then Tampa scored again just before the half.
After the game resumed, Crazy Jen got a sack on New York’s quarterback, followed by a full-on enthusiastic hip thrust, followed by a penalty flag for excessive celebration, followed by boos from the crowd who enjoyed watching Crazy Jen be Crazy Jen. After all, professional football is a spectator sport, and Crazy Jen knows how to be a spectacle.
The penalty didn’t matter. Tampa went on to win that game.
That was Friday.
On Saturday, after the adrenaline of the game had worn off, she woke up and noticed that her arm was bent funny. On Monday she went to the doctor, who told her that it was broken. She had gone all weekend with an unsplinted, unbandaged broken arm.
Now that’s crazy.
For the next game, in Miami, she was scratched from the active roster. She might be crazy, but the Tampa coaches aren’t. So, Crazy Jen was benched for her own safety.
But that didn’t stop her from driving six hours round trip to south Florida to watch her team play, all while sporting a dead-sexy cast on her forearm that went past her elbow.
She cheered for her team. She mingled with the fans. She turned Miami spectators into members of Crazy Jen Nation. Everybody she met got signs and beads and tiny placards with her photo on it to wear around their necks pimp-daddy style. Even the security guards were posing for pictures with the raison d’être of the Crazy Jen Nation.
So why, at thirty two years of age, would she want to play football?
“Growing up on the beach, we played a lot of sand football. I only got a small taste of ‘real’ football after moving to Tampa and participating in local flag football leagues. However, I kept getting in trouble for attitude and (excessive) contact. Go figure! But I loved being the girl that was often picked up by so many teams. It’s a good feeling to be noticed.I stopped playing years ago to concentrate on my running.”
Then, if you were out of football, why the LFL?
“I was asked to join the team right before the season started. JenMeyers, the QB, knew me from softball and knew I was one who was not modest. They had a few spots open up on the roster and were looking to get them filled.I had a slim shot of making it – because let’s face it – I am NO model. But we (my husband Danny and I) figured ‘Heck, let’s give it a shot. Wouldn’t this be a fun story for the kids (futuristically speaking of course)?’ Another driving force was thinking I was going to out-weigh and out-muscle any one of these girls. Looking back, I was soooooooo wrong. Oh so wrong. I stuck with it really for the opportunity to be involved in an organized sport again where I could be truly coached; not to mention learning a new sport was so intriguing!”
But, your arm was snapped in half? Was it really worth it?
“Was it worth it? Wow – you’d think ‘No’, as we only get to play four games (in a regular season) as it is. And now I’ve missed 40% of my game time! That stinks! Especially for stats purposes! Ha! However – everything I’ve gained from the league has been so worth it. I’ve learned you can still teach an old dog new tricks. And that, no matter what anyone else says about my body, I do truly love it. Crazy Jen diets for NO one!”
So what motivates you?
“You’re really gonna pull this one? It sounds so cliché but my best motivation has always been my family and friends. From a young age, my mother would make the BIGGEST deal out of me during my big games; the shirts…the signs…the decorations. And it made me feel so good knowing that she was that proud of me. It made me raise my game so she’d have that reason to jump up and down hollering! Well, now that I’m 32 years old – it’s no different. Most men wouldn’t even think to let their wives participate in this type of league, but heck, my husband is my NUMBER 1 fan! He was so excited that he organized a crowd of ninety people – yes NINETY people – who met before the New York game to make signs, posters and bling; then they all filed into the Forum to help root me on. What other LFL player can say they had ninety friends and family at the same game?! And I’m not talking Facebook ‘friends’ or guys who saw my photo and wanted to hook up, I’m talking about who else had a sister drive her family over EIGHT hours to come and watch?! And had all of their in-laws sporting their name on their posters?! Even with that broken arm, I begged the coach to put me in (the Miami game). I wanted that badly to play for my group of people. Broken arm and all, my smile was ear to ear. My husband, family, and friends put my spirits through the roof. They are my motivation. A happy crowd is a CRAZY CROWD! And we don’t do it any other way.”
With all of that attention, surely you must have a problem walking around in public without being mobbed by fans?
“In public? Heck no. My mother can barely pick me out of a line up while I’m in uniform, so I can’t imagine a stranger knowing me in ‘people clothes’. The closest I’ve come to being recognized was, after the New York game, I was going to the bar which is across the street from the Forum. My whole group was there waiting on me. When I arrived they made a huge ruckus, which then grabbed the attention of the other patrons and game-goers who had to ask which player I was. My reaction? I gave them the booty dance of course! And then they DEFINITELY knew which one I was. Took a ton of pictures.”
So, when your futuristically-speaking children have their friends over and the girls spot the shadowbox containing shards of a pink cast and the tattered remnants of a blinged-out pink visor, what will you tell them?
“First off – I’d talk to the parents who have a daughter that hasn’t tried at least ONE sport. That is what is wrong with kids these days! I would just tell them you don’t know what you’re good at until you try it. You can’t be the next Venus or Serena if you’re too scared to step onto the court. Also it’s a great way to be involved and will really be beneficial for meeting people once you get into college!”
“In my early years, the only sport I played was softball. My parents, however, did try (to get me involved in) all of the dance/ballet/tap classes, but dressing up with make-up and sparkles just wasn’t my thing. I only wanted to play softball. And why? Because my big sister played. I was good, but she was better. Sibling rivalry is a HUGE driving force. It wasn’t until high school when she quit that I started playing for me. I swam one season, but that was just to hang out with my friends. Otherwise, it was all softball – all the time. Awards? Do you know how old I am? Did they even have awards back then? I’m sure I got the All-County… All State… All Conference… but these days it all blends together. The only achievement I ever remember was while playing in college I ranked third in the state for Triples and made the top 25 in the state for batting average. Funny how these days it’s just a blur.”
Yes, funny how all of those victories, achievements, and awards can become a blur.
In life, it’s easy to get wrapped up in competition; the continuous pressure to achieve, to meet goals, to win. Sometimes it’s a coach that pushes us; sometimes it’s a boss. And while we’re pushing to succeed, to claim victory in whatever contest we find ourselves, to improve ourselves for the team or further our careers for a company, sometimes we need to stop.
And get a little crazy.
Because that’s what’s truly memorable. After all, if we’re not having fun, then it’s just work.
Welcome to the All-Whigham team, Crazy Jen.
Long live sport.
