Post by rainman on Aug 25, 2007 5:13:15 GMT -5
Bent facemask says it all about Owen Schmitt
By Bob Hertzel
For the Times West Virginian
MORGANTOWN— There are, to be sure, any number of items that Rich Rodriguez could display in his office, from Sugar Bowl championship rings to Big East Coach of the Year awards, but perhaps the most unusual is a twisted piece of iron that sits on a table.
It is, in a way, a trophy; a trophy to everything Rodriguez believes in about football.
It is Owen Schmitt’s facemask.
Once it looked like any other of the facemasks worn by West Virginia University players, until Schmitt put it on a linebacker so hard that the metal actually was bent out of shape.
And it’s not the only one.
Owen Schmitt has a similar one in his apartment, a keepsake of hard hits.
In so many ways, Schmitt seems out-of-place in Rodriguez high-tech, spread ’em and run past ’em offense.
His haircut alone — a Mohawk — lets you know what he’s all about.
Who this side of a rock band wears a Mohawk? Well, Robert De Niro wore one when he finally flipped out in the movie classic “Taxi Driver.” Mr. T wore a Mohawk. NBA bad boy Ron Artest wore a Mohawk, as did Brian Jozwiak when he played at WVU.
And John Riggins of the Washington Redskins once wore one.
Yes, the same John Riggins who once told Supreme Court justice Sandra Day O’Connor to “loosen up, Sandy baby” wore a Mohawk.
And yes, he was one of Schmitt’s idols, even though he played before Schmitt was born.
“I remember John Riggins,” Schmitt said. “He was a guy to look up to. Him and Larry Csonka are guys I kind of look up to.”
He should, for Schmitt may be one of the last of a dying breed — a power fullback.
Rodriguez tried to explain how Schmitt works so well in his offense, one that doesn’t seem on the surface to lend itself to a 250-pound bruiser.
“I don’t know there are as many now as there used to be, a true fullback who will block, isolate, stick his face on somebody as hard as he can and try to run through the block. That’s a rare commodity. You think that’s old school and that everyone has them.
“Well, they all may have them but do they have as fast as the one we have. That’s the thing I like about Owen. Whether you call it old school or not, he understands the physical nature of being a lead blocker and, at the same time, he’s got some running back skills.”
Understands it? He revels in it.
Although he carries the ball as a running back, although he catches the ball as a running back and in his new position of tight end, he doesn’t worry about his yards or catches.
“The only I keep is wins and losses — and pancakes,” he said.
He’s not talking about Aunt Jemima, either. This isn’t about pancakes eaten. It’s about linebackers eaten up by his savage blocks, flipped onto their backs like they were pancakes.
See, this man takes pride in his tie to players like Riggins and Csonka and all those other fullbacks of the past.
“When you look at traditions like Nebraska, when they used to run hard-core option, the fullback was like a serious god at the school. He was always the toughest guy on the team. It’s evolved a little from there,” he said.
It is this fullback mentality that Rodriguez cherishes.
“He loves football,” Rodriguez said. “We’ve got a lot of guys who love football. I’ve said a lot of times, you can’t like football at this level. You have to love it.
“You like it, you won’t last. It’s too much work; you have to put too much into it. You have to have a passion for it. Owen has a passion for the game. I remind the whole team of that. At this level, you don’t have any days off. You have one bad day, it could cost you a whole lot of things.”
Schmitt’s main function at fullback is to clear a path for Slaton or White and on occasion to pick up the tough yards in short yardage situations.
He’s so good at what he does that outsiders have begun to notice, even with all the hype that centers on Slaton and White. ESPN.com noticed, all right, and named him to its first-team All-America unit while neither White nor Slaton was so honored.
“We’re not saying that without Schmitt clearing space, Steve Slaton and Pat White wouldn’t be Heisman Trophy candidates,” the introduction read.
“But the 6-3, 250-pound senior is very good at clearing space for his talented teammates.
“Schmitt also knows how to tote the ball himself, rushing for 351 yards (5.4 per carry) and seven touchdowns. Fullback is an anachronism in the modern offense. Guys like Schmitt may spearhead a comeback.”
There aren’t very many guys like Schmitt.
By Bob Hertzel
For the Times West Virginian
MORGANTOWN— There are, to be sure, any number of items that Rich Rodriguez could display in his office, from Sugar Bowl championship rings to Big East Coach of the Year awards, but perhaps the most unusual is a twisted piece of iron that sits on a table.
It is, in a way, a trophy; a trophy to everything Rodriguez believes in about football.
It is Owen Schmitt’s facemask.
Once it looked like any other of the facemasks worn by West Virginia University players, until Schmitt put it on a linebacker so hard that the metal actually was bent out of shape.
And it’s not the only one.
Owen Schmitt has a similar one in his apartment, a keepsake of hard hits.
In so many ways, Schmitt seems out-of-place in Rodriguez high-tech, spread ’em and run past ’em offense.
His haircut alone — a Mohawk — lets you know what he’s all about.
Who this side of a rock band wears a Mohawk? Well, Robert De Niro wore one when he finally flipped out in the movie classic “Taxi Driver.” Mr. T wore a Mohawk. NBA bad boy Ron Artest wore a Mohawk, as did Brian Jozwiak when he played at WVU.
And John Riggins of the Washington Redskins once wore one.
Yes, the same John Riggins who once told Supreme Court justice Sandra Day O’Connor to “loosen up, Sandy baby” wore a Mohawk.
And yes, he was one of Schmitt’s idols, even though he played before Schmitt was born.
“I remember John Riggins,” Schmitt said. “He was a guy to look up to. Him and Larry Csonka are guys I kind of look up to.”
He should, for Schmitt may be one of the last of a dying breed — a power fullback.
Rodriguez tried to explain how Schmitt works so well in his offense, one that doesn’t seem on the surface to lend itself to a 250-pound bruiser.
“I don’t know there are as many now as there used to be, a true fullback who will block, isolate, stick his face on somebody as hard as he can and try to run through the block. That’s a rare commodity. You think that’s old school and that everyone has them.
“Well, they all may have them but do they have as fast as the one we have. That’s the thing I like about Owen. Whether you call it old school or not, he understands the physical nature of being a lead blocker and, at the same time, he’s got some running back skills.”
Understands it? He revels in it.
Although he carries the ball as a running back, although he catches the ball as a running back and in his new position of tight end, he doesn’t worry about his yards or catches.
“The only I keep is wins and losses — and pancakes,” he said.
He’s not talking about Aunt Jemima, either. This isn’t about pancakes eaten. It’s about linebackers eaten up by his savage blocks, flipped onto their backs like they were pancakes.
See, this man takes pride in his tie to players like Riggins and Csonka and all those other fullbacks of the past.
“When you look at traditions like Nebraska, when they used to run hard-core option, the fullback was like a serious god at the school. He was always the toughest guy on the team. It’s evolved a little from there,” he said.
It is this fullback mentality that Rodriguez cherishes.
“He loves football,” Rodriguez said. “We’ve got a lot of guys who love football. I’ve said a lot of times, you can’t like football at this level. You have to love it.
“You like it, you won’t last. It’s too much work; you have to put too much into it. You have to have a passion for it. Owen has a passion for the game. I remind the whole team of that. At this level, you don’t have any days off. You have one bad day, it could cost you a whole lot of things.”
Schmitt’s main function at fullback is to clear a path for Slaton or White and on occasion to pick up the tough yards in short yardage situations.
He’s so good at what he does that outsiders have begun to notice, even with all the hype that centers on Slaton and White. ESPN.com noticed, all right, and named him to its first-team All-America unit while neither White nor Slaton was so honored.
“We’re not saying that without Schmitt clearing space, Steve Slaton and Pat White wouldn’t be Heisman Trophy candidates,” the introduction read.
“But the 6-3, 250-pound senior is very good at clearing space for his talented teammates.
“Schmitt also knows how to tote the ball himself, rushing for 351 yards (5.4 per carry) and seven touchdowns. Fullback is an anachronism in the modern offense. Guys like Schmitt may spearhead a comeback.”
There aren’t very many guys like Schmitt.
