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Then he yells in through the screen door, "Hey, Diane! Hey, honey? How about bringing the two of us a beer out here. Sandstorm might blow up and we could both die of thirst before we could get back inside of the house."
Moments later, sipping at a beer, he says thoughtfully, "Thing I missed last year more than anything else was stripping my cotton. Harvest is the best time for a farmer. That's the payoff. But you strip cotton in the fall and I was busy up in New England then. So my family got my crop in for me." He laughs. "That's why I'm working my daddy's place right now as well as the land I lease, to pay him back for last harvest time.
"You ride along on that combine and look over your shoulder and see that cotton going into the trailer you're pulling, and it gives you a good feeling. You spend the day watching it pile up until that big trailer is full, and you say, 'Hey, I planted those seeds six months ago. I must have done something right because look what I got now.' "
Suddenly he stands up and calls in to Diane through the screen door, "Hey, honey, we're going riding around. Be back in a little while."
"I thought you were going to spade up a vegetable garden for me this afternoon," she yells back.
Weishuhn starts toward the pickup in a hurry. "Let's get gone before she gets serious," he says. Driving away he hits the steering wheel with his big, thick hand and laughs. "Dang, I love it here!"
Football has always taken a backseat to farming for Weishuhn. Says Mike Martin, his linebacker coach at Angelo State, "We had Clayton's academic schedule set up so he only had classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays. The rest of the time, except for games, he'd be farming. He'd come dragging in here for practice with dirt under his fingernails and smelling like diesel fuel, and I knew he'd either been under a tractor or on one since dawn."
But then if he loves farming so much, why bother with football at all? Is it just for the money?
Driving, Weishuhn glances sideways at his questioner and his face hardens. "Listen," he says, "don't get me wrong. I love to play football and I dang well meant to prove that I could play football in the NFL."
He laughs and jokes so much and has such a careless air of geniality that when he turns serious his words carry weight. His mouth sets and his eyes narrow, and it's not hard to imagine how he looks when he positions himself to hit a running back coming through a hole.