Christian Taylor’s trip back from Notre Dame wasn’t
how he envisioned it.
Only hours after the Bruins’ gut-wrenching 20-17 loss to
the Fighting Irish ““ a game that they had all but won until
three plays in the last minute changed the Bruins’ fate
““ Taylor was getting off a plane, trying to make sense of
everything he just saw.
He could see the frustration in his teammates’ eyes. They
had seemingly won a game that few thought they were capable of
winning, against the most storied program in the country, only to
watch it get snatched away in the last minute.
Taylor knew that somebody had to say something; he knew that if
the players weren’t careful, that loss would define a lost
season.
He knew that somebody had to say that the game was over and
nothing good would come from self-pity.
And there was no doubt that the guy to say all those things
would be Taylor.
“The next day I told the guys that we could let things get
away from us,” he said. “Or we could come back stronger
and learn from the game.”
Several days removed from the game, Taylor’s competitive
nature prohibits him from talking too much about UCLA’s loss
last Saturday. He gets caught up in the moment and can’t help
but get a little agitated.
“If Brady Quinn wins the Heisman Trophy, it will be
because of us,” he said.
For those who know Taylor, it’s not a shock to hear the
junior middle linebacker use words like “rebound” or
“persevere” when talking about such a devastating
loss.
Taylor doesn’t know how to think any other way.
He’s the middle linebacker and captain of a defense that
is ranked No. 10 in the nation in total defense, but was never a
recruit who produced tantalizing combine numbers that the scouts
drooled over.
If it wasn’t for a phone call made by his father, his
college career could have easily been a one-year burnout.
Even after climbing to the top of the depth chart, Taylor still
hears doubts about his ability. He’s listed at 6 feet and 220
pounds, but wide receiver Andrew Baumgartner said that
“Christian might weigh that in the pouring rain with heavy
clothes on.”
But Taylor doesn’t dodge questions about his size, instead
welcoming it as a sort of weird compliment.
“The thing that I love about our defense is you can point
at each of us and say “˜He’s too small; he’s too
small; he’s too small to play.’
“But when you put us all together we stop them. If you
were to compare us by position, you’d take the other team.
But are we better? Yes.”
In that regard, Taylor has become the voice and symbol of a
defense that stands as one of college football’s biggest
surprises.
“Christian has always been one of those guys that was
driven by obstacles,” Baumgartner said. “His
competitive drive is unlike anyone’s I’ve ever
known.”
Taylor worked his way up the ladder from walk-on to scout player
to special teams standout to defensive captain.
It was a long road that started in Salinas and took a four-month
detour in Colorado Springs at the Air Force Academy before ending
up in Westwood.
Size doesn’t matter
“You’re too small for linebacker and too slow for
safety.”
Those are words Taylor has heard associated with his game. As a
result, he’s assumed a sarcastic, self-deprecating sense of
humor about his combine numbers.
“I peaked my sophomore year,” he said. “I
didn’t have a great junior year, and apparently the scouts
found out that I wasn’t good enough to play where I am right
now.”
Taylor went to Salinas High School in the small town just
outside of Santa Cruz, and he was never able to live down the
perception that he wasn’t strong enough to play the physical
brand of football needed at the Division I level, nor was he fast
enough to play secondary.
The only scholarship offers he received were from the Air Force
and Naval academies and a bunch of Division II schools. Taylor
didn’t think that the boot-camp lifestyle would be an ideal
fit for him, but he had one goal above else.
“I wanted to play Division I football,” he said.
“I wasn’t ready to give that dream up.”
After days of deliberation, Taylor told his parents he would be
accepting a scholarship from the Air Force Academy, so he could
play linebacker. Shortly after he arrived in Colorado, Taylor got
the sneaking suspicion that he wasn’t going to fit in.
By the end of fall semester, that suspicion grew to outright
certainty. Taylor was waking up at 5 a.m. each day, going through
boot camp, and practicing football each afternoon. The grueling
pace didn’t suit a college kid from Northern California.
So after months of telling his parents how unhappy he was at the
academy, he made a phone call to his father that set in motion a
series of events that he didn’t see coming.
“I said, “˜Dad, I’m transferring. I just
can’t take it anymore.’
“˜I didn’t even finish my first semester, so I got no
credit from Air Force.”
So Taylor was back where he started his senior year of high
school, looking at colleges that didn’t take him seriously as
a football prospect. Then one day, Taylor’s father sent a
tape of his high school football highlights to UCLA.
UCLA had offered Taylor a spot on its team, but only as a
walk-on. He’d have to pay his own way. Taylor could have
chosen a Division II program, but opted to pay his own way because
that desire to play at the top level of college football was still
there.
By the end of December, Taylor was getting a tour of the UCLA
campus from Bob Lopez, a football administrator for the program, as
opposed to anyone from coach Karl Dorrell’s staff.
“I was a nobody, so I wasn’t getting taken around by
the coaching staff or anything,” Taylor said. “I was
just some walk-on who they could get added to the team if I wanted
to come here.”
Luckily for Taylor, his grades in high school were strong enough
for him to transfer to UCLA with little trouble.
Within a matter of weeks, Taylor was a member of the UCLA
football team.
He started in winter quarter without any college credit to his
name or any real chance of playing time for the football team. Due
to NCAA regulations, he had to sit out a full calender year while
redshirting.
“I got here in January and it was tough to know that I
couldn’t even start playing until spring practice after the
next season,” he said. “So I just worked and
waited.”
Surprise, surprise
While redshirting the 2004 season, Taylor earned the dubious
honor of UCLA scout player of the year. Although Taylor’s
hard work in practice caught the attention of his coaches, he was
still relegated to practice.
“I never wanted to just be a guy who played well in
practice,” he said. “So the (scout) award was nice, but
it also showed me how far I was from my goal.”
The goal for Taylor was to start at middle linebacker ““
more commonly referred to as the “mike” linebacker. But
before that, Taylor was still working for one of UCLA’s 85
available scholarships.
In the summer of 2005, players were told that there were four
scholarships available to walk-ons that year. During training camp,
as he was working as All-American Spencer Havner’s backup,
Taylor found out that not only was he getting a scholarship for the
year, but so was Baumgartner, one of his closest friends on the
team.
“They announced it to the whole team, and we got a nice
little ovation,” Baumgartner said, “But Christian
didn’t see that as a huge moment; he then started to focus on
playing time. That was typical.”
Last season proved to be a breakthrough for Taylor. While the
Bruins were compiling a 10-2 record that was defined by their
fourth-quarter comebacks, Taylor was one of the lesser-known
surprises of the 2005 team.
He was a force on special teams during the season and earned
more playing time at linebacker as injuries to Havner and London
lingered. He finished with 43 tackles, tied for sixth on the
squad.
He made one start ““ against USC in the Los Angeles
Coliseum.
For all UCLA’s success last season, its defense was an
obvious sore spot. When defensive coordinator Larry Kerr was
dismissed in the offseason, four new coaches were brought in to
completely shake up the maligned unit.
The new coaching staff now appears to be a bunch of miracle
workers, but at first there was an uneasiness from the returning
players. They’d have clean slates and have to prove
themselves all over again.
Taylor was one of those guys.
“I had become Kerr’s guy,” Taylor said.
“So at first I was thinking, “˜Oh, man, I am going to
have to do this all over again.'”
If Taylor had to prove himself to new coordinator DeWayne
Walker, it certainly didn’t take him too long to do it.
Before training camp had even started in August, Walker had
gotten a look at Taylor’s work ethic and football IQ up
close. He accordingly pegged Taylor as his play-caller and leader
of the unit.
“He epitomizes all that I want in a player,” Walker
said. “He’s everything that we want in a defense.
He’s smart, and he’s willing to listen to the coaches
and do what’s needed of him.”
So far this season, Taylor is tied for the team lead with 42
tackles ““ six for a loss ““ with two sacks and an
interception.
Looking ahead
Taylor is one of 10 starters who figure to return to next
year’s defense, to go along with nine starters on offense.
It’s an observation that has led some to predict next
year’s UCLA team as a player for the Pac-10 title, but also
chalking this season up as a rebuilding year.
Those are sentiments that Taylor doesn’t want to hear.
“Those same people who talk about next year also
didn’t give us a chance against Notre Dame,” he said.
“So I am not going to start to predict the future. We need to
worry about (Washington State).”
Taylor talks about football with the same perspective as a
coach. He laughs off frivolous rankings or predictions, and he is
chalk full of cliches that seem to fit every team in the country.
And like any coach, he can’t go too long without talking
about his players.
“It’s great to look at the other guys and know we
are shutting people down on defense,” he said. “But
I’m most proud of the fact that we have a bunch of very
different characters off the field who are tight-knit on the
field.
“I love these guys.”
Make no mistake, however, Taylor’s happy to be a
player.
“I love this game, but I don’t know if I could be a
coach,” he said. “It’s their lives. I’d
rather be on the field.”