The time has come and yet another season of college football bowl games is upon us. From the EagleBank Bowl, to the BCS National Championship, one will see matchups laced with historic receptions, breakout performances as tailbacks dine and dash for three touchdowns, and then, of course — 400-yard passing games from quarterbacks.
Albeit, with all of these recognizable positions stealing the spotlight, it's bound to leave one position backstage — none other than the offensive line.
Offensive linemen usually only get mentioned after mistakes or penalties. However, it's arguably the most important position on the field. Without a stellar line, even the most electric offensives would sputter.
Joe Marchant played guard at Virginia Tech through the 1998-2001 seasons. He graduated from Viewmont High, and after playing shortly at Dixie State, he devoted his time to missionary work. Upon his return to football, he accepted the full ride scholarship from the Hokies and spent his career blocking for perhaps one of the most prolific college players of all time — Michael Vick.
Although quarterbacks get the majority of the publicity, their success is synonymous with the performance of the five hogs in trenches. This leads to stories from the NFL of signal callers purchasing new cars and Rolexes for their entire offensive line.
"The thing with Mike is that he was as flamboyant as can be, he was a superstar in college, (but) he loved us guys up front," said Marchant, "He was always kind; I can remember just about after every game, he'd come up and quietly say thanks. I thought that was pretty cool."
The typical offensive lineman is easily stereotyped. When one thinks of the typical body structure of a center, guard or tackle – the first thought that pops in the brain is a funny, overgrown teddy bear – whose dream vacation is to go to the nearest Golden Corral. It doesn't matter what team they play for, offensive linemen notoriously clean more plates in a buffet than the rest of the roster combined.
"For me when I was just eating and consuming it wasn't like I just sat down and had 10 plates at dinner. My thing is I would have like 10 meals in a day. I'd have breakfast and it'd be a huge meal, then I'd have something at 10 o'clock," Marchant said, laughing. "Like now, I'll have a snack at midnight and it'll be like a bowl of chips or whatever, but when I was playing it'd be a full blown meal."
"My wife worked in physical therapy and she had a lady who was married and had four kids and they were like ranging from 15 (years old) down," continued Marchant, "They were comparing grocery bills back and forth, and I only ate at home like twice a day – and my wife spent more on groceries for just the two of us than their family did. It wasn't like I was trying to gain weight; I was just trying to maintain what I had."
Keith Chatelain, who played offensive line at Kentucky University and had a short stint with the San Francisco 49ers before his career was cut short due to injury, had similar experiences with maintaining what he had.
"In my true fat days, I'm getting old now and can't put down what I used to. I'd say in my true 350 pound monster, run to the mountains 'cause someone released the beast on the earth days," Chatelain said, "I'd say five to six plates. This isn't a couple things on a plate – I'd stack the plate until stuff falls off."
As a Wildcat, Chatelain played guard and started for three seasons. Although it's not his proudest moment, he was also involved in the infamous "Bluegrass Miracle" where LSU stunned Kentucky on a last second bomb after the Wildcats had already drenched their head coach with Gatorade in anticipation of a win. Nonetheless, Chatelain insists he wasn't involved in the premature shower.
Although offensive linemen are well known for mammoth-like features, those who are or have been associated with football prefer to describe offensive linemen with a phrase other than "hungry, hungry hippos."
The most common term attached to the men in the trenches is "flat-out hilarious."
Why?
Playing offensive line is a selfless job. It's easily the least media savvy position on the field. In fact, the only acknowledgment of existence offensive linemen acquire is on stoppage time.
"The only time a lot of people get anything said about them is when they get caught holding. The reality of it is we hold every single play; the only time we get caught is if someone goes to the ground or we tackle someone, inside the armpits we hold every single time," said Marchant. "It's the most work on the field, I mean you're gonna get hit in the teeth 60 to 80 plays a game – you might play 89 out of 90 snaps perfectly. You might have the game of your life. Then it's third-and-15 in the fourth quarter and you get caught holding and you lose the game. They remember that play; no one remembers the (other) 89. It's one of these thankless jobs that you have to find humor and you have to have fun. It's like a different breed of animal."
It could be said that every offensive line has the same characteristics. It doesn't matter if one were to examine high school teams or NFL franchises, the same results would continue to appear.
"Every O-line has four different types of players," said Chatelain, "If you play O-line you're either the dumb one, who can't do anything right and basically has to be told by the other linemen what to do every play. There's the smart one, usually either the center or the guard who tells you the defense and what's going on. There's the weird one who makes inappropriate jokes, gets caught saying stupid things in weird situations. The guy who runs around the field that everybody knows as the weirdest guy. You love him to death but wouldn't trust him in family situations. Then there's the one who always falls down. Everybody laughs, 'cause there's always the guy who falls down and no one knows why. If he's on the field he falls down."
So an obvious question arises when discussing the position, and it boils down to simple logistics. Why on earth would someone want to play offensive line, when they're immediately the punch line to every joke and hardly receive an ounce of credit? Not to mention getting the blame thrown at them for every loss or mistake. How fun is that?
"Nothing actually made me want to (be an offensive lineman). It (was) actually genetics of being fat my whole life," said Chatelain, "that kind of put me into that situation. When you grow up, and you're twice the size as everybody else with Neanderthal type features suddenly (coaches) are gonna be like 'hey that's an O-lineman. That guy can run fast — OK, he's a DB. That guy looks like he came out of a cartoon — OK, he's an O-lineman.' "
So, what exactly makes offensive linemen funny?
"O-linemen's personalities rub off on each other. They might have one guy who's really closed off and doesn't really talk to people — just sits off in his own world," said Chatelain," Then you go through four or five games and all of those practices together, suddenly the guy who's really closed is the weird one making the inappropriate jokes."
During the bowl season, instead of watching the explosive defensive backs or standout tailbacks, rather than eyeballing quarterbacks with rocket arms or wide receivers with out of this world leaping ability — direct your focus in the gutters at least for a series or two. If anything, you might just get a laugh out of it.
e-mail: tphibbs@desnews.com