College Sports, June 1996
Bad Breaks Haven't Slowed Notre Dame Quarterback RON POWLUS'
Quest For Perfection in a Place That Accepts Nothing Less
- by David Seigerman
If Ron Powlus had one complaint about his personal Fortress of Solitude,
it would have to be the gas mileage. Twenty highway miles per gallon can
make for one expensive getaway vehicle, especially when the owner has
frequent need to get away. But affordability is of little concern when
the pressure comes. Like campaign-trail politicians and substitute
teachers, a quarterback must anticipate an attack before it arrives,
before it blasts through this protective pocket and swallows him alive.
Fortunately, Powlus is a quarterback with wheels. And a stereo system.
When it comes time for Powlus to scramble from the worst pressure he faces
as the Notre Dame quarterback, his refuge is his Ford Explorer, the one
his parents sent him back to school in midway through his freshman year,
the one with the four-wheel drive that his mother demanded so she wouldn't
have to worry when her son drives home during harsh Pennsylvania winters.
Most people have a hard time finding the busy part of South Bend, Ind.,
any time other than a football Saturday, but sometimes the Explorer is the
only place where the Notre Dame quarterback can escape. He closes himself
in, settles into the cushy captain's chair, fiddles through the
all-you-can-stomach country music buffet that is northern Indiana radio
and slips his Ford into drive.
He doesn't cruise to get anywhere in particular, the mere act of driving
is enough. It doesn't matter if it's the four-lane capillaries (arteries
would imply a much larger system) that makes up South Bend or those
winding, restricted-vision rural highways that take travelers uphill from
the Susquehanna River, through Berwick, Pa, and deposit them in the
Appalachians. Heck, it could be the 8 1/2 hours of interstate that
connects Ron Powlus, Notre Dame quarterback, to Ron Powlus,
son/friend/neighbor/hero. Inside the Explorer is Powlus' autocracy, a
world with comfortable headroom in which he is in total control.
"I like to go for rides and spend time being alone with myself," said
Powlus, titling his head in surprise at the redundancy of his own words,
as if hearing them reaffirmed their importance. "People think I'm nuts,
but it gives me time to get away. There's nobody asking me questions,
nobody bothering me, nothing going on but exactly what I want to go on,
what songs I want on the radio, what I want to think about, what I want to
look at. I don't have anybody asking, 'How's the arm?' or what I think of
the team. It's just me, by myself, and I don't have a lot of those places
or times left."
If that sounds a little cynical for a 21 year old, it would be
justifiable. Few athletes face more pressure at a younger age than a
Notre Dame quarterback, and few Notre Dame quarterbacks have ever endured
what Powlus has in his first three years of college. Did Paul Hornung
play every game of his career on national television? Was John Huarte
lavished with dozens of High School Player of the Year honors only to
arrive on campus as a freshman saddled by predictions that he would go on
to win two Heisman Trophies? Did Joe Montana ever return to his dorm room
after a national magazine disclosed his e-mail address to find that there
wasn't enough memory left on his drive to perform even the basic task of
opening one of the 600 new messages from fans in cyberspace.
But do not misunderstand Ron Powlus. He does not dislike the pressure or
even wish it away. He knew exactly what he was getting into from the
moment he stepped onto the tree-lined quad and saw the spire of the
Basilica of the Sacred Heart pointing skyward like some perpetual "We're
No. 1" sign. Through every subsequent minute of that whirlwind tour of
Midwest campuses he took as a high school junior with his dad, his coach
and a teammate. Powlus weighed every school that followed against his
love-at-first-sight with Notre Dame. And even after he figured out years
later that he really had not known what he was getting into by accepting a
scholarship to play quarterback at Notre Dame--that his life would become
more intense than any warning could ever have prepared him for, Powlus
still has never entertained even a fleeting thought that he would be
happier playing football somewhere else. If you want to bathe in
sunlight, you have to acknowledge the risk of getting burned, and it
remains Ron Powlus' plan to emerge as college football's golden boy.
"The expectations were outrageous when I got here, but I loved it. I
wanted to do everything people wanted me to," Powlus said. "I wanted to
win the two Heismans and two national championships and never lose a game
and set 15,000 records. I said, 'Fine, bring it on, bring it all on.
Bring on every prediction you have. Let me know what you want, I'll do
it.' I'd rather people say I was going to do great things than expect bad
things."
Who could possibly have expected bad things from Ron Powlus? He had a
perfect senior season at Berwick High, both personally (2,943 passing
yards, 31 passing touchdowns, plus 677 yards and 20 touchdowns rushing)
and as the main ingredient for a team that went 15-0 and won an actual
state title to go with a mythical USA Today national crown. He was the
first high school football player ever to speak on the floor of the
Pennsylvania State Senate. He shook the congratulatory hand of President
Clinton. He and his teammates were guests of honor at Scranton-Wilkes
Barre Red Barons minor league baseball games and tossed footballs with the
drivers before the Pocono 500.
He was considered the best quarterback entering college in 1993--the best
college-bound player period--and was going to the country's most visible
program to write his own chapters into a book of achievement that often
borders on fiction. And he was well on his way to challenging the
imaginations of even the fightingest of Irish supporters. "Sure, I can
see leprechauns dancing around the stadium . . . but a true freshman
starting quarterback for Notre Dame? You've gotta be pulling my
shillelagh."
But sure enough, there was Ron Powlus, on campus only a few weeks and
already scaling the depth chart like he was running the bleachers. He
phoned his father, Ron Sr., early into two-a-days and said, "Dad, I'm
second-team but I'm starting to take more snaps with the first unit."
Then came more snaps with the starters and more up-dating phone calls and
then more and more of both until finally Powlus had all but officially
surpassed senior Kevin McDougal as the first-string quarterback. "Then
the Wednesday before their last scrimmage, he called me and told me,
'Dad, I'm starting against Northwestern.' Coach [Lou] Holtz had pulled
him aside after practice and told him." Ron Sr. said, "That Saturday is
when it happened."
What happened is Ron Powlus crashed to earth. The pressure--talking
strictly in a sense best explained by a physics expert--got to him.
During a series against the first-team defense in that final scrimmage,
the irresistible force of Jim Flanigan and Bryant Young introduced the
freshman to the immovable object that was the ground and the something
that had to give was Powlus' collarbone. "If he would have landed on his
back or his belly, he would have gotten right up and walked away," Notre
Dame head trainer Jim Russ said. "but, at the last minute, he turned or
they turned him and he twisted enough to break his collarbone. It was
just perfect positioning for it to happen like that." Strange, but even
in tragedy, the kid was somehow perfect.
For someone whose medical history included little more than a a sprained
ankle, the injury was nearly unbearable, not so much from the pain but
from the disappointment. He'd gone from rookie to starter to sidelines
just like that. "That was tough on him," said senior nose guard David
Quist, Powlus' roommate this school year. "He came in here being the
savior for Notre Dame football."
You don't hear that word tossed around that campus too often, but Powlus'
arrival drew second-coming reception. The only problem was he couldn't
substantiate the hype. A small break in his right clavicle--not
career-threatening by any stretch but most definitely season-costing--and
suddenly he had no way to prove himself to the coaches who recruited him
or the fans who devoured all recruiting paraphernalia that mentioned the
kid from Berwick with the thunder-shaking right arm. He had no way to
respond when the first critics began to circle above the wounded savior.
"The first time I heard something bad about me, it was like, 'Oh man, how
can he think that? I've got to talk to this guy and change his mind about
me,'" Powlus recalled.
There was to be no mind-changing until his sophmore season, and then there
was to be plenty. In his first college game, Powlus tied a school-record
by throwing four touchdown passes against Northwestern. He went on to set
a Notre Dame record with 19 TDs in 1994 and helped the Irish complete more
passes than in any previous single season.
Ahhh, but this is South Bend, and the only numbers that truly mattered
were 6-5-1--the Irish's second season of single-digit wins since '87.
Suddenly, the savior became the scapegoat.
No problem, Powlus thought. With a year underhis belt, he would make 1995
the year Notre Dame returned triumphantly to the top. Though the season
started with a then-stunning loss to Northwestern, the Irish slowly came
together. By the time they dismembered USC, 38-10, it was obvious Powlus
was comfortable in the dirver's seat and he had Notre Dame cruising in the
right direction.
"You want to have confidence in every facet of your team, and in the USC
game, we did," Powlus said. "When a team is unselfish like that, it
doesn't matter who has the ball. It was fun. Everything flowed so nice."
The joy ride didn't last long. In the third quarter of Notre Dame's last
home game, Powlus went down awkwardly as he was sacked by Navy's Fernando
Harris. At first, he thought he'd separated his left shoulder, but he was
able to move the joint normally as he lay on the Notre Dame Stadium grass
waiting for the trainers to reach him. Then he lifted his hand to see if
perhaps the injury was in his forearm or wrist--that's when he noticed
that part of his upper arm was not moving in concert with the rest of the
limb. X-rays later showed a fracture in Powlus' humerus about four inches
above the elbow. Once again, it took a perfect landing for Powlus to
avoid a joint injury and the kind of ligament damage that usually
accompanies one. This was described as more of a "car-accident injury,"
just an old-fashioned broken bone--once again, there was no danger to his
career but, once again, his season was over prematurely.
"It was more fustrating this time because things were going so good,"
Powlus said. "I was a lot more a part of this team this time than I was
the first time."
This time had been different, Instead of watching from the wings as his
teammates--in name only, really, because the freshman hadn't completed the
bonding process before being sidetracked by the first injury--came within
reach of the national championship he was supposed to lead them to, he
played an active role from the sidelines. He became Thomas Krug's biggest
fan and spoke with his replacement after every series during Notre Dame's
regular-season-ender against Air Force and its heartbreaking Orange Bowl
loss to Florida State. "It ws really important having him there for me
because it made everything normal," said Krug, the No. 1 quarterback while
Powlus missed spring practice who will return to his reliever's role once
Powlus returns to health. "It was the same team going out to play
football, and it was one of us playing and the other one there to talk to,
only it was the other one playing and the other one talking this time."
This time, Powlus hasn't questioned Russ' rehab program. Or at least this
time he's smart enough not to get caught. After the initial injury, Russ
was running on the Loftus Center track when he spotted Powlus tossing a
ball with a teammate. Every lap Russ took, he peered over and saw the
freshman throwing more and further than before. Eventually, Russ took a
detour to explain rather colorfully to his patient that such activities
were off-limits. "He didn't understand my cautious advice," Russ said.
"He wasn't being defiant; he was saying, 'Gee, I feel good. I want to try
some things.' But there was a learning process--how do you act when
you're hurt? There was a lot of frustration and anxiety, but he's past
that now. He is really a perfect patient."
There's that word again--perfect. Maybe it takes a perfect kid to remain
unshaken first by all the positive things that happened in high school and
then by the misfortune that has cluttered his college career. Maybe it's
that Powlus has the perfect temperment to ride the rollercoaster and, as
everyone looks on, keep his balance and not walk away queasy.
But then it's easy not to be shaken when you're supported by a strong
foundation. Roots run deep in Berwick, a one-time industrial town
surrounded on all sides by coal country. Immigrants from Ireland, Italy,
Poland, Russia and the Slavic countries settled together several
generations ago and many families--including Powlus'--have been fixtures
ever since. It's a town where careers are passed from father to son,
though many more sons have managed to avoid the path leading from Crispin
Field, the Berwick Bulldog's home stadium, across the street to the
American Car & Foundry factory that belches black smoke and yellow flame
from its belly even as the country's best high school football team
practices no more than a makeable third-down conversion away.
Football is also a matter of legacy in Berwick, though Powlus represents
perhaps the most notable break in tradition in town history. His father
once wore No. 99, the jersey awarded to the star fullback, the proudest
position at Berwick before coach George Curry arrived and started churning
out college-caliber quarterbacks faster than the AC&F turned out railroad
cars and tanks for World War II. Until a special Saturday tryout for all
seventh-graders hoping to one day play quarterback for the bulldogs, Ron
Powlus Jr. was ticketed to be fit for No. 99. "What happens in these
towns is that whatever the father played is what the kid winds up
playing," Curry said. "I knew Ron's dad was a great fullback, but I told
Ronnie to go home and tell his father he's no longer a fullback. I was
gonna make him a quarterback."
Powlus flourished so quickly in his new position that his father quit his
job as football coach at a nearby high school, taking over the basketball
program instead so he'd have football Fridays free to watch his boy.
Powlus' mother, Susan, helped form The Mom Squad, which brought sandwiches
and sausages and cakes on the road trips for their yes-sir, no-ma'am sons
to eat in the parking lot before driving back home together to Berwick.
His sister, Christine, even scheduled her wedding around a Bulldogs home
game.
You don't come from such a place only to fold in the face of adversity
when you leave the city limits. So, when Powlus suffered his second
injury and had an 11-inch rod inserted along the broken bone, he didn't
think twice about the overreaction that swept the nation of Notre Dame
fans. He didn't flinch when he received mail asking him why his bones
were so britttle and advising him to drink more milk. Was there so much
as a double-take when he opened envelopes and various herbal remedies
spilled out? Not a chance. Such was life under the microscope for the
Notre Dame quarterback, the life he had chosen for himself and remains
unfailingly glad he did.
"As a Notre Dame football player, everybody is watching you and cares
about what you do. They don't even have to be a football fan, but they
watch what you're doing," Powlus said. "Notre Dame is news, one way or
the other."
That means for every incident blown way out of proportion (Powlus slammed
his helmet to the ground during the Boston College game only to read in
two local newspapers the next day that he'd kicked it off the wall of the
stands in a fit of anger) There's another incident blown way out of
proportion. "Somebody stopped me in Loftus once and asked me for a
picture with their kid. Two weeks later, they send you a newspaper
clipping from their hometown and there's a big article with the picture
about how you took time out of your day for them," Powlus said. "It's
definitely blown out of proportion, but that's why we're all here at Notre
Dame. We all want to be part of something huge."
That may sound strange coming from a student whose responses to a
20-question survey in an upper-level consumer relations class labeled him
a genuine, card-carrying introvert--his responses were a perfect
20-for-20. Then again, this is the quarterback hand-picked to lead his
high school (done) and college (not yet) teams to national championships.
"I'd like to get some of those feelings on this field that we had at
Berwick," Powlus said. "In high school, we went into every game thinking,
'How dare this team come in here and think they could beat us. How dare
they?' It was like they insulted us by even showing up. There was a
feeling of greatness every time we walked onto the field. I think this
team here has to get that attitude."
If anyone can deliver the goods, it's Powlus, who signs so many balls and
t-shirts and cap brims for fans and friends and friends of fans that Quist
compared him to Santa. This fall, though, it will be Powlus on the
receiving end of a special present--the Irish offense, giftwrapped and
tailored to fit perfectly his special abilities. "We're not going to
showcase Ron Powlus, but utilizing his talents better will give us a
better chance to be successful," Holtz said.
They don't break tradition often in SouthBend, either. But how often do
you have a Ron Powlus at your disposal? How often do you have a kid who
once, as a 10-year-old, pegged a rabbit with a nerf football from 30 yards
away, a kid who only got in trouble when he'd bomb his mother's birdhouses
with snowballs from impressive distances, a kid who in less than two full
seasons already ranks among Notre Dame's all-time leaders in passing yards
and touchdowns?
When you have a kid like that, you over-haul your pedestrian
offense into a fully loaded, all-terrain cruiser, you hand him the keys
and say, "Take me home, son."
"Berwick was perfect, but that was such a long time ago and I can't wait
to get back to that situation," Powlus said. "I'm planning that this year
is the time. It's time for me to get back on top, for Notre Dame to get
back on top, for every one of these players here to get back on top, for
Coach Holtz to get back on top. It's time for the Notre Dame football
program to realize where it should be."
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