The weighing game

Oregon’s Geoff Schwartz pictures himself

a slimmer man at the conclusion of his

college career. He’s listed at 350 pounds, but

sees himself as a lean 230.

Former college offensive lineman Ryan Schmidt is a

changed man after ridding himself of the lineman’s diet

““ a whopping eight meals and 9,000 calories a day. Schmidt

dropped 85 pounds in just six months once he pulled out

of the lineman lifestyle and pushed himself away from the

dinner table.

UCLA’s Robert Cleary ballooned to a scale-tilting 320

pounds. If he’s going to be healthy, he says, he’ll need to get

below 280.

Over the past decade, college offensive linemen’s waist-

lines have continued to grow, leading to high blood pressure

and morbid obesity. Ultimately, the zeal for a competitive

edge comes with a price. The game has evolved, but the

standards for offensive linemen’s health have lagged slug-

gishly behind.

Linemen feel the pressure to gain more and more weight,

looking at each pound the way a rapper looks at rhymes, each

pound getting the linemen one step closer to the NFL.

“Players do see the risks,” Oregon senior offensive guard

Ian Reynoso said. “But they don’t think it’s going to happen

to them. No one thinks they’re going to die.”

Five years ago, the death of Minnesota Vikings lineman

Korey Stringer, a 27-year-old who weighed in at 335 pounds

and stood 6-foot-4, brought the heavy burden to the front

pages of newspapers nationwide.

This past summer, the death of 23-year-old San Francisco

49ers lineman Thomas Herrion, a 341-pound lineman, also

sent a jolt through the football community as teammates and

coaches were left to wonder why such a young life ended so

prematurely.

Despite the tragedies, college offensive linemen continue

to disregard the risks they expose themselves to by continu-

ing to pack on the pounds.

Leslie Bonci, who for the last 14 years has been the direc-

tor of sports nutrition for the University of Pittsburgh Medi-

cal Center and a nutrition consultant for the Pittsburgh

Steelers, knew the cause.

“It’s a phenomenon that has been

happening over a period of time, and

it’s a huge problem where lives are at

risk. Players don’t get (to the weight

they are) just by eating grilled chicken

salad,” Bonci said.

“Bigger is better: Kids are being giv-

en that perception, coaches are rein-

forcing it, and players (are reinforcing

it) to each other. The coach says to

the player, “˜I want 30 pounds on you,’

he doesn’t say “˜30 pounds of muscle.’

Coaches just want them to eat more

““ they don’t care.”

How we got here

College rosters with offensive

linemen weighing in at less than 300

pounds are becoming rare. To stay

competitive, offensive linemen say put-

ting on weight is a necessity.

College has always been a farm for

the NFL, and if the NFL demands play-

ers of a certain size, college players are

bound to respond.

“I definitely think it’s a feeding pro-

cess,” Oregon State second-year offen-

sive lineman Kyle DeVan said.

“Absolutely. That’s what college ath-

letics has turned into,” said Washington

State strength and conditioning coach

Rob Oviatt, who has 24 years of experi-

ence with related issues. “Ultimately,

it’s the feeder system from high school

to college, and college is for profes-

sional.”

Football has increasingly become a

business where young men are given a

certain image of what they need to be

in order to make it professionally. For

offensive lineman, that means bulk-

ing up.

“Players see so much mass on (pro-

fessional players’) bodies,” UCLA offen-

sive coordinator Tom Cable said. “So

they say to themselves, “˜If I want to give

myself a chance then I’m going to have

to be like that myself.’ Guys literally

train and eat themselves that way.”

In 1979, Alabama was atop the col-

legiate world with an offensive line

that averaged between 240 and 250

pounds per player. The average starter

on the offensive line in the Pac-10 today

weighs in at 302 pounds. The South-

eastern Conference features its average

offensive line at a meaty 307 pounds.

Arizona senior offensive tackle Brad

Brittain, who weighed in as a freshman

at 240, said he was pressured to fit the

stereotype of a professional lineman.

He beefed up by more than 50 pounds.

“If you’re a starter on team and you

want to make it into the NFL, you’re

going to have to be a bigger size,” Brit-

tain said. “You want to be the best, and

not just another player.”

Upon his arrival at UCLA, offensive

tackle Ed Blanton had a 295-pound

physique. Since then, he’s put on 45

pounds. UCLA senior center Mike

McCloskey, who came in at 260 pounds

as a freshman and swelled to 280, says

its old-fashioned competition driving

him to devour slabs of meat and bowls

of pasta.

“When I first came in I knew I was

underweight,” McCloskey said. “I really

felt the heat from the coaches that I

needed to put on some weight to have

a chance to block these 300-pound

tackles.”

Bite by bite

Blanton wakes up at 7 a.m. and gets

ready for a draining day. By 10 a.m. he’s

already working his pecs out in the

Acosta Training Center.

He follows that up with breakfast.

Sometimes it’s an energy bar. Some-

times it’s a handful of eggs and a fistful

of bacon.

After hours of tape and scouting

reports, Blanton heads to the dining

commons in the residence halls. If it

closes, he’ll cook at home ““ the menu

varying from sausages and steaks to

salads and pasta.

“I eat whatever I can get my hands

on,” Blanton said.

Brittain says when his teammates

get dinner it looks like an assembly

line.

For dinner, Reynoso scarfs down

three and a half steaks, a big bowl of

spaghetti, broccoli, corn, salad and a

strawberry shake.

DeVan gorges on steaks and pota-

toes. He goes home and makes an egg

sandwich with a couple fried eggs.

After eating four or five meals a day, he

gets hungry again at night.

“Fast food run. Gotta have it,” DeVan

said.

Cleary is right behind him at the

drive-through.

“I eat pretty much everything,”

Cleary said. “We try not to be too fat,

but you know it’s going to happen. We

tease each other.”

California’s nutritionist Helen Pak

uses a sophisticated computer soft-

ware program that analyzes the intake

requirements for each athlete. From

there, she determines the dietary recall

and how many calories each athlete

should be eating for breakfast, lunch,

dinner and snacks.

“A meal for a typical offensive line-

man during season is at least 6,000

calories,” Pak said. “I’ve taken food

records as low as 2,500 and as much as

9,000 and 10,000 calories.”

Pointing fingers

When asked why these athletes are

growing at such an accelerated pace,

coaches, players, scouts and nutrition-

ists have alluded to the growth hor-

mones in food and supplements.

Yet when offensive linemen’s stom-

achs fold over their waistbands and

when they are more inclined to reach

for oxygen masks on the sidelines than

cups of sports drinks, some eyebrows

raise.

The question that remains is wheth-

er high schools, colleges, professional

leagues or the individuals should be

responsible for ensuring the well-being

of offensive linemen.

Although universities have nutrition-

ists and programs to monitor athletes

such as offensive linemen, Washington

strength and conditioning coach Trent

Greener, who has 15 years of coaching

experience, feels it is the individual’s

responsibility.

“There isn’t a guiding hand, so it’s

their own personal responsibility to

stick with eating correctly and working

out,” he said.

UCLA strength and conditioning

coach E.J. “Doc” Kreis, who has been in

the field for 13 years, sees the growth of

offensive linemen as merely the evolu-

tion of football.

“The specialization has changed in

football,” he said. “(Players) aren’t play-

ing both sides of the ball, they’re more

specialized in their area. That’s what’s

allowed football to be bigger, faster and

stronger.”

Another current trend is athletes

training at a younger age. Beginning

in Pop Warner football, a league for 10-

to-12-year-olds, offensive linemen are

taught that bigger is better.

Pak sees this as a major problem,

especially at the high school level,

where there is no one to police the eat-

ing habits of offensive linemen.

“I do think that, as an administra-

tion, we’re responsible to educate

(players) for certain degrees on healthy

nutrition, but sometimes athletes don’t

follow through,” Pak said.

Elevator to the NFL

The director of college scouting for

the Carolina Panthers, Tony Softli,

stalks the sidelines in search of colle-

giate talent. Most years he reviews the

performance of nearly 1,800 players.

While the perception may be that

offensive linemen are well over 300

pounds, Softli says that isn’t the case

for him. He’s only seen one player heavi-

er than 360 pounds in the past year.

Contrary to other NFL teams, both

the Carolina Panthers and the Denver

Broncos recruit what now would be

considered undersized offensive line-

men.

“You don’t need to be 330 to be in

this league,” Softli said. “Athletically,

you look at size, but obviously bigger,

stronger, faster doesn’t mean every-

thing.”

Professional teams like the Panthers

and Broncos look for players who have

balance, lightness on their feet, agility

and the ability to change direction.

The Broncos implement an option

offense that requires mobile and ath-

letic linemen. Because of that, the

Broncos have just six linemen who

weigh 300 pounds or more. The heavi-

est is 338.

While Softli says the Panthers don’t

force their players to put on weight,

Oregon State offensive line coach Mike

Cavanaugh says otherwise.

Cavanaugh remembers coaching

Vincent Manuwai at Hawai’i. Manu-

wai is now the Jacksonville Jaguars’

offensive guard. In college, Manuwai

weighed in at 287 pounds, but the Jag-

uars pushed him up to 320.

“A lot of (NFL teams) are enamored

by these bigger guys,” Cavanaugh said.

“(Manuwai) is too heavy where he’s

playing at. They want him to be at that

weight, but to me he doesn’t need to

be.”

But impressionable rookies want to

stand out. So they adjust their lives to

being large because that is what profes-

sional teams look for.

“If you put enough pressure on these

kids, they can make a stupid, harmful

condition,” said Oviatt, who has trained

several players at Washington State.

That perception is the reason coach-

es throughout the nation are trying to

dispel the notion that players need to

be a certain size to make it in the NFL.

Washington’s Greener actually pre-

fers offensive linemen who can with-

stand 60 minutes and 80 snaps of pun-

ishment each game.

“There’s a lot of guys that fall under

the 300-pound mark that master the

find a home for them,” he said.

Though the obesity issue may not be

pertinent to the Broncos, general man-

ager Ted Sundquist considers it a major

concern. By the time athletes reach the

professional level, they would have had

10 to 15 years of football, which can

permanently damage their bodies.

“I think we’re very cognizant of

weight being an issue,” Sundquist

said. “Obviously, there have been a few

instances, such as at San Francisco. We

as a league are on top of the issue by

educating our players.”

What’s being done?

The NCAA harps on education as

being critical during the season and

the offseason.

An issue that gets even less atten-

tion, though, is what happens to play-

ers when their playing days are over.

National Athletic Trainers’ Association

President Chuck Kimmel sees retirees

falling into one of two trends after the

NFL ““ either they lose all that extra

weight or they end up gaining more.

During the season, Kimmel, who

helps train certified athletic trainers,

said that if a person does exhibit signs

of obesity a staff member should step

in.

“If one of our athletes is obese, then

I need to step in to educate them on

how to be leaner and ensure wellness

and the safety of the individual in the

future,” Kimmel said.

Bonci, who also works as a nutri-

tion consultant with the University of

Texas and neighboring Pittsburgh high

schools, is thinking long-term when

it comes to the well-being of offen-

sive linemen. They’re deemed high-risk

players and are regulated more.

But the plan isn’t to cut off all food

from players.

“We need to show expertise and

guide players,” Bonci said. “Coaches

should not be the police.”

In terms of a solution for ensuring

the safety of offensive linemen, Bonci

refers to wrestling and the restrictions

placed on that sport.

“There should be maximum fat stan-

dards, so you can’t play because you’re

at risk to yourself,” Bonci said. “Players

think about two or three years (down

the road) ““ they don’t think about four

years down the road. It is concerning

to me, but we’re making haste, team by

team, to get the message out more.”

The future

A study released by the NFL in

March 2005 reported that 56 percent of

players qualify as obese, roughly 30 or

more pounds over a healthy weight.

The study of 2,168 NFL players aged

21 to 44, by researchers at the Univer-

sity of North Carolina-Chapel Hill, also

stated that about 26 percent of football

players qualify as severely obese and 3

percent are morbidly obese.

Despite all the studies on the dan-

gerous trend, it continues.

Louisiana State’s redshirt freshman

Herman Johnson, a right tackle, is 6

feet, 7 inches, 371 pounds, and is one

of LSU’s largest players ever. Arizona

State redshirt freshman Leo Talavou, a

left guard, is 377 pounds.

It begs the question: What’s next?

400-pound linemen?

“I hope not,” Pak said. “That’s a scary

thought.”

“There’s got to be a ceiling to all of

this, and things tend to run in cycles,’

Oviatt said.

Putting NCAA restrictions in place

is not likely, primarily because body

types and heights differ.

“To make a blanket statement

wouldn’t be appropriate because every-

one is different,” Kimmel said.

What has remained the same, how-

ever, is the danger that looms over the

growing bodies of these linemen.

The football community continues

to struggle with what to do, if anything.

But all agree on the desire to avoid

another death.

After all, that’s why players like

Schwartz and Cleary are ready to shed

weight after their careers end.

JAY TAYLOR/DAILY BRUIN SENIOR STAFF

Competition between offensive linemen is fierce every time teams step on the gridiron. Over the past 10 years there has been a trend of linemen beefing up to stay

competitive against their opponents, especially in the rigors of Division I college football. Some players gain weight to upward of 300 pounds.

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