On August 10, 2026, the New York Post published an article titled High school football player practiced for an hour with a snake in helmet — until coaches ‘shock’ discovery. How could I not open such an exciting headline? The article, which also links to the original local news report from KARK.com, explains that a high school football player at Maumelle (Arkansas) high school made it through about one hour of practice before he felt something strange in his helmet. He took off his helmet and showed it to a coach, who felt compelled to call over the athletic director and other coaches. In the player’s helmet was a two-foot long cottonmouth snake. While having a snake in one’s helmet may be a cause for concern as a general matter, the identity of this particular snake was especially concerning because cottonmouths are venomous. Fortunately, the Post reports that “the school staff was able to secure the helmet inside a tote bag before the Maumelle Animal Services arrived to take custody of the animal,” meaning a happy ending for both safety and serpent.
(Note: I have no idea if the high school player was a safety, but KARK specified that he brought the helmet to a defensive coach, so we will say he is a safety instead of a cornerback, linebacker, or linesman for the sake of a nice-reading sentence.)
I did not decide to write this article to report on the snake in the helmet. Both KARK and the New York Post did an admirable job reciting what they were told by school officials, and not having been in the state of Arkansas, much less on scene, I have little to add. Instead, I shared this story because it reminded me of a personal anecdote. Lest anyone fears for my safety, I submit that my anecdote had nothing to do with snakes, venomous or otherwise. As a life-long resident of Brooklyn, New York City, I have little personal experience with snakes, but I will take this opportunity to share a photograph of a snake I took in San Antonio, Texas, back in May 2025.
My non-snake story occurred in either 1994 or 1995, which was my first year of school. 1995, which happens to be the same year I received my original Game Boy, strikes me as more likely, so we will assume that going forward. My very small class had recess in a small playground attached to my very small school. I do not remember anything about recess, but I am certain we had recess based on what happened next. After recess, we returned to class. I complained about feeling something uncomfortable in my shoe. The teacher I complained to took me seriously, so she took me out to a bench in the hallway to check if there was something in my shoe. She took my shoe off. There was indeed something in my shoe.
Slime. Goop. Paste.
What was the source of the slime, goop, or paste?
Earthworm.
It became clear from the situation that an earthworm had crawled into my shoe without my noticing. That was a poor life choice for the worm. I was small back in those days, but more than heavy enough to unknowingly turn a worm into worm-paste.
Although this traumatic event occurred more than 30 years ago from publication time, I distinctly remember sitting on the bench as my shoe was removed, revealing the worm paste. I do not remember anything beyond that, but I can reasonably assume that my sock and shoe were returned to a state wherein I could go on about my day before going home at the end of school.
There you have it. I read about the snake in a football helmet and thought about that time just over 30 years ago when I unknowingly played pestle to my shoe’s mortar with an earthworm while I was playing with my classmates in the playground. Remarkably, my childhood memory of an earthworm crawling into my shoe involved more casualties than the story of a venomous snake taking residence in a football player’s helmet for approximately one hour.
