Time is in short supply.

Each day, after attending summer-school classes at Mesa Community College, Clint Carlson lifts weights, runs sprints and throws the football, trying to make up for lost time on the field.He knows that he has to prove himself to college coaches all over again. But unlike some athletes who walk away from scholarships for two years to spread a religious belief, the passion to play still burns in the former Mesa Dobson High School quarterback.

"The biggest adjustment," he said, "is getting back to reality. For two years, you're separated from the real world."

From the summer of 1996 to the beginning of this summer, Carlson did not touch a football. As part of his church commitment, he saw no television. No movies. He didn't read the newspaper. He didn't date. He rarely worked out.

His only contact with his parents was through letters and the two phone calls he was allowed to make to them each year - on Christmas and Mother's Day.

In Oregon, a part of the world he didn't know before, he and a companion studied The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints scripture, prayed and shared their beliefs with those who would listen - many times getting doors slammed in their faces.

"It gets discouraging," Carlson said. "But the purpose of what you're doing outweighs the discouragement and keeps you going."

The decision to serve the church was made easier for Carlson after he broke an ankle after starting the first six games at quarterback for Dixie College in southern Utah three seasons ago. His mission, he said, was "a spiritual awakening, the greatest experience I ever had."

Now, he is getting used to what he calls "civilian" life. The 21-year-old gets up early for school. He throws spirals at night at Scottsdale CC, where he said he may attempt to resume his football career in the fall.

Carlson said he is no different than most Mormon boys who grow up eagerly awaiting the day they get the call to go out in the world and teach the word. It is not required by the church, but highly recommended.

College coaches pray their players aren't sent to Third World nations, where they run the risk of malnutrition and disease.

Brock Bevell, a tight end at Scottsdale Chaparral and Eastern Arizona College, lost about 25 pounds during his mission in Paraguay because of a parasite.

His older brother, Darrell, a quarterback at Chaparral in 1986-87, spent his mission in Cleveland, a football hotbed.

Darrell said there was much rejection, more bad days than good, but he held onto his beliefs and said his missionary experience strengthened him on the football field, where he later led Wisconsin to a 1994 Rose Bowl victory over UCLA.

"It puts life in perspective," Darrell said. "When you have guns pulled on you and dogs sicced on you, you come back to Earth."

The journey isn't so perilous in most cases, and it is difficult to find an athlete who calls his mission a waste of time and unrewarding.

Many return more physically and mentally mature, ready to take on anything.

"For me, it was an advantage," said Fred Mortensen, a former Tempe High quarterback who, after serving his church mission, helped Arizona State beat Nebraska in the Fiesta Bowl in the 1975 season and later spent five seasons in the NFL as a backup. "You learn what it takes to be happy and content and deal with the challenges that go along with performing."

Rattlers Coach Danny White, a Mormon whose two sons went on church missions, elected to play out his football career at Arizona State instead of going on a mission in the early 1970s. He ended up setting many school passing records and captured two Super Bowl rings with the Dallas Cowboys. But he said he now regrets not serving a mission.

"There wasn't as much emphasis on serving a full-time mission as there is now," White said. "I had advice from church leaders. Some said to stay under scholarship. I took advantage of the full ride to ASU.

"That's all changed now. Kids mature a lot during those two years. If the athlete is in them, I don't think (the mission) will take it out of them. More colleges are seeking returned missionaries."

That's especially true in Utah, which is more than 70 percent Mormon. On the Utah football team, there are 38 returned missionaries.

Coach Ron McBride, in his ninth year at Utah, started a missionary program seven years ago. It basically reactivates a player's scholarship upon his return. The NCAA clearing house is notified, and the player's eligibility clock is put on pause once he enters the missionary training center.

"In our state, you have to (accept missionaries) or forget about recruiting the state," McBride said. "Ninety-six percent of the kids we recruit go on missions."

The returned missionaries leave school as grown men, at age 23 or 24, instead of 21 or 22, causing some to feel it's boys against men on the field.

McBride said the maturity level, the dedication and the work ethic, pay off in the long run. Utah has played in four bowl games in the past five years.

"When they're on their missions, they think about the things they want to do," McBride said. "Sometimes, kids do change. The importance of what they're doing can do that. But in most cases, the same football guys come back with the same passion."

Still, there are concerns from college coaches who may have immediate needs to fill and are more willing to give a scholarship to a player they know is committed to athletics for four uninterrupted seasons.

Brigham Young quarterback Todd Mortensen, who said he will embark on his mission in October, discovered that in 1996, his senior year at Tempe High, where he led the Buffaloes to an undefeated state championship season. Many schools backed off on recruiting him once they learned he planned to go on a mission. Not Brigham Young, which will have 50 returned missionaries on this year's team.

"A lot of colleges are not recruiting missionaries in general, because they have immediate needs at a position and they don't want to wait," said Mortensen, Fred's son, who redshirted last season and will have four years of college eligibility beginning in 2000.

"I've had older cousins serve missions, and I've seen the rewards in their lives and how happy they are. I can't wait to go. I feel I'll come back much more able to focus on my goals."

ASU Coach Bruce Snyder, who coached eight years at Utah State, recruited Mortensen. He signed Mesa Mountain View tight end/

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linebacker Todd Heap, knowing that last year's Arizona Player of the Year intends to serve a mission after this season.

At ASU, Snyder has had only a handful of missionaries, including safety Paul Reynolds, even though Arizona ranks among the top four states in LDS membership.

Snyder has found the missionary athlete to be coachable and unselfish, people he doesn't have to worry about getting in trouble.

"Boy, when you get one back that is focused, you have a mature person," he said. "I'm not LDS, but you give yourself to a bigger picture. That's what I like. Everybody gives up a little individuality for the greater good of the group."

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