Lots of commodities traders are HS football coaches

They wouldn't trade it for anything For several area assistant football coaches, the hustle and bustle of the practice field is nothing compared to what they find at their full-time jobs.(Sports Extra)

Daily Herald (Arlington Heights, IL)

October 12, 2001 | Bush, Joe

Byline: Joe Bush Daily Herald Sports Writer
Sean Drendel, Greg Jacobson and Jim Bonebrake are commodities traders and high school football assistant coaches.
Daily, they thrive among pushing and shoving, shouting and maneuvering, noise and action, planned strategy and adjusting on the fly, and above all, competition.
Then they flee to the suburbs in time for football practice and some tranquility.
There's anything but on the trading floors of the Chicago Mercantile Exchange, where mostly men battle for attention in highly charged buying and selling binges.
"It's a peaceful atmosphere," Drendel says of coaching. "You'd like to think it's gonna make your life easier. Jacobson has no stress."
Lately, Drendel's side job has caused him as much grief as his time at the Merc. Drendel is Naperville North's defensive coordinator, and the Huskies have lost three straight games.
Jacobson, meanwhile, teaches wide receivers at Naperville Central, top-ranked and undefeated.
He is hardly without anxiety, however. Jacobson is a three-year veteran of the Chicago Police Department whose West Side district has seen more than 50 homicides this year.
Here's Jacobson's schedule: He's done patrolling at 7:30 a.m., then heads to the Merc until around noon, gets a couple hours of sleep, gets to Naperville for 3:30 p.m. practice, heads back to the city about 6 p.m. and sleeps from 7 p.m. until 10, when he heads to work for his 11 p.m. shift start.
Jacobson, who is a freelance trader, especially appreciates his time with the Redskins as an oasis from not only hustle and bustle, but also from the cutthroat impersonality of the pit and the streets.
"It's a good balance," he says. "I think a lot of times there's nothing really socially redeeming in trading.
"It's time to clear your head. On the way (to Naperville), I'm thinking about football. On the way home, I'm thinking about court."
Bonebrake coaches linebackers, punters and kickers at Geneva, where Darren Stahulak guides the offensive line. Stahulak, too, is a trader, though he isn't subject to the adverse conditions on the floor.
Stahulak knows about life down there, though, and he knows that handling its chaos is one of the main reasons so many traders coach football.
Besides the four in this story, there are traders/prep football coaches at Loyola, St. Rita, Mt. Carmel, Notre Dame, New Trier and Hubbard, just to cite the schools Jacobson, Drendel, Stahulak and Bonebrake could come up with off the top of their heads.
"There are a number of ex-athletes (at the Merc), especially in the pits," Stahulak says. "It sometimes gets physical in there. It's definitely to your advantage to be big."
If not big, then at least competitive, with a fire that should charge across the border of intensity.
"No. 1, you need to be loud," says the 6-foot-1, 255-pound Bonebrake, who played linebacker at the University of Chicago and works in the wonderfully named live cattle pit. "No. 2, you need to be visible. Being wide, there's fewer people close to you."
Drendel and Jacobson are each around 6-foot, 200 pounds. Drendel was a standout at Naperville North and Eastern Illinois University, and Jacobson was a backup quarterback for Gordon Tech's 1980 Class 6A title team and coached for 16 years at Gordon Tech and St. Patrick.
Drendel's boss downtown was a wide receiver at Northwestern; a colleague played basketball at the University of Milwaukee- Wisconsin, while another pitched at Benedictine University.
The pits are just another male-dominated area in which lifelong athletes and coaches are comfortable. Bonebrake, who also hires and trains traders for his company, says former athletes are drawn to the scene by more than potential riches.
"Every day there's a game going on," he says. "They keep score with money."
Just check out Drendel's descriptions of his "office":
"At times it's about as cave-mannish as can be."... "It's a dog- eat-dog world down there."... "You've got to have your game-face on."
Bonebrake again: "I'm a competitor. I'm trying to put food on the table for my family and send my kids to college. It's personal."
If it seems as though this ambience would inspire the flying off of a lid or two, with traders coming to blows, it's true. It's also expensive and uncommon, with a $50,000 fine levied by the Merc for fighting.
"No matter how crazy it is, it's still a workplace," Drendel says.
When there's down time at the Merc, you can imagine that much of the talk turns to sports. Stahulak had some fun with Drendel in 1995 when, while Stahulak was coaching at Wheaton North, the Falcons beat Naperville North with a hook-and-ladder play.
Stahulak, a reserve center on the Northern Illinois University squad that played in the 1983 California Bowl, got a kick out of flashing a hook-and-ladder sign at Drendel across the floor.
"He's gotta bring that up, doesn't he?" Drendel says.
There's good-natured, locker-room banter and, with so many assistant coaches around, there's also learning.
"It's a wealth of info," Stahulak says.
There was too much info and yet not enough on Sept. 11 and the days immediately afterward.
As a symbol of capitalism, the Merc is no regular office building, and amid the chaos of Sept. 11, its inhabitants were on edge.
"We had to keep trading," Drendel says of Sept. 11. "To keep what America's built on. We felt like we're running risks to even be there."
They also felt the loss of life differently than most others this far from the East Coast.
"We all know people who knew people, people who were talking to people when the planes hit," Stahulak says.
None of the subjects of this story knew anyone who died at the World Trade Center, though Bonebrake might if he chooses to investigate the matter.
His company had an office on the 85th floor of the first tower. Everyone from the firm escaped, though the last person wasn't accounted for for two days.
"I can't believe that I won't have known some people from the University of Chicago," Bonebrake says. "I haven't looked at all the lists. To be honest, I'm not in a real hurry to find out."
They all have to deal with the aftereffects of the attacks and the current cautious climate: armed guards, IDs to enter the building, searches.
It's this kind of aura, as well as the madness of the pits, that makes the camaraderie of coaching so welcome. People give and people appreciate and people relate.
"When I walk into both jobs, it's like, 'How'd you guys do?' " Jacobson says. "High school football, especially in the Chicagoland area, everyone knows somebody."
Most of all, the traders, like any coach who isn't doing it for the money, love the game and helping kids.
"There's some great kids out there," Drendel says. "I enjoy helping them and giving back to a community I love."
Says Jacobson: "(The players) know what I'm doing. They know that I might be draggin' one day, and they'll have to pick it up a bit. I get as much from them as they get from me."
COPYRIGHT 2009 Paddock Publications

Local kid with judo background wins NCAA wrestling title for Oklahoma

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Title: Kading wraps up NCAA Glenbard S. product snares 190-pound title for Oklahoma.(Sports)

Date: March 31, 1996 Publication: Daily Herald (Arlington Heights, IL) Author: Bush, Joe

Byline: Joe Bush Daily Herald Sports Writer
John Kading's performance in last weekend's NCAA Division I wrestling championships was as solid as the beginning of his career was quirky.
Kading, a 1992 Glenbard South grad and University of Oklahoma redshirt junior, not only won the 190-pound national crown last Saturday night at the Target Center in Minneapolis, his five opponents scored only when he let them up after takedowns.
Kading claimed the Amateur Wrestling News' No. 1 ranking with a January victory over then-top-ranked Brian Stout from Clarion and more than justified it last weekend with a technical fall and decisions of 3-0, 10-3, 8-2 and the title-clinching 7-3.
"He wrestled relentless," says OU coach Jack Spates. "He wrestled with abandon."
Kading wrestled with just eight years of experience. That may seem like a lot, but many kids have wrestled for eight years by their senior year in high school.
Not only had Kading not wrestled before he entered Glenbard South, he only began the sport because he goofed around in class one day and lost a bet on another.
One day a boisterous Kading drew the ire of algebra teacher and Raiders wrestling coach Rod Peterson, who hadn't put a student in detention in 22 years. He told Kading to instead report after school to the wrestling room, where 105-pound Mike Dusel threw around the 130-pound, judo-accomplished Kading.
Soon afterward, Peterson overheard Kading touting Loyola over Evanston in an upcoming football game. Loyola is the alma mater of Kading's father John, while Evanston was where Peterson began his career.
Peterson bet Kading that Evanston would win the game. The stakes? If Loyola lost, Kading would try wrestling. Evanston won, and the rest has been history in the making.
Kading was under .500 his freshman year, posted a 32-5 record his sophomore year and won state titles at 152 and 160 his junior and senior years. During the summers he placed sixth and first at the junior freestyle nationals.
In 1992, Glenbard South's year-end assembly honoring Raiders athletic accomplishments - The Convocation, it's called - was more like John Kading Day. Peterson showed a video of Kading, then told the gathering they migh one day see Kading win an NCAA championship.
* * *
Kading chose Oklahoma - which offered a full ride - over Lock Haven, a tradition-rich Division I program in wrestling-mad Pennsylvania.
As hard as Kading worked in high school, he had to work harder at OU - matches are seven minutes long in NCAA wrestling. As dominant as he was in Illinois, it meant nothing in a practice room in Oklahoma.
"I came into a room full of John Kadings," he says. "There were days (in practice) I went without a takedown."
He redshirted his freshman year and nearly left Oklahoma when then-coach Stan Abel retired that summer. Spates "re-recruited" him, says Kading.
"I ended up staying and loving it," he says.
Because Sooners All-America Andy Foster wrestled at 190, Kading had to compete at heavyweight in his redshirt freshman year.
Though the 212-pound Kading spotted most of his opponents 50 pounds or more, he finished sixth at the NCAAs with a combination of quickness and smarts.
"I had to learn to move," Kading says of his heavyweight year. "I couldn't just stand there and push with them. I never had an easy match that year."
That summer, Kading worked with the U.S. World Team at the Foxcatcher training center in Pennsylvania, on the same grounds made infamous last fall after Foxcatcher founder John DuPont fatally shot wrestler Dave Schultz.
In 1995, Kading placed fifth in the nation at 190 after losing to the defending national champ in the semifinals. Just as he turned up his dedication after his sophomore year in high school, Kading turned the screws after his second All-America season.
"I doubted myself and it's something I still regret to this day," Kading says. "I was happy with fifth, and I should never have been."
Kading needed to improve in three areas: offense, riding time - a minute of which is worth a point in NCAA competition - and self-confidence.
Kading's judo experience was evident in his high school takedown abilities. With recruiters in the Assembly Hall stands in 1992, Peterson challenged Kading to display his arsenal in his first Downstate match. Kading took his opponent down with at least six different moves.
Still, Spates says "in terms of shots, (Kading) didn't have any" when Spates took over at OU in 1993.
In Saturday's final, Kading took down third-seeded Paschal Duru of Cal State-Bakersfield three times with his favorite move, a high double leg.
"He's not only worked hard - and he's one of the most prolific workers I've been around - he also works smart," Spates says. "He has improved his offense 1,000 percent."
Of the final, Peterson, who regularly travels to John's contests with John and Gail Kading, says "When he got that first takedown, I knew it was all over."
Kading's offense had come through because his confidence had.
"I've always had a large repertoire, but I was afraid to use it," Kading says. "I had to mentally let go. I just let loose (at the NCAAs).
"This year I went out with confidence. No matter who was in front of me, I thought and knew I could beat you."
Kading became the Sooners' first NCAA champ since 1990 by heeding the advice Peterson gave him in high school: "Spectators don't like to see one takedown and two guys hold out. They like to see constant action. Go out and make it interesting for them."
Kading holds Peterson in higher regard than Peterson can understand. Though the retired coach says "I was a starting influence, then I was an encouraging influence" in Kading's career, Kading says Peterson's effect will reach beyond the mat.
Kading is majoring in sociology and wants to teach and coach in Illinois.
"I wanna do for some kid what Mr. Peterson did for me," Kading says, "and that's basically change my life. He was like a second parent. I could talk to him about anything."
Kading was an academic qualifier as a college freshman, but not without a struggle no one really understood. Once college coursework began, the difficulty he had retaining what he read was too much.
"Everyone (in high school) chalked it up to me being lazy, and that's what I chalked it up to," Kading says.
He was diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder, and his treatment with the drug Cylert, along with tutoring, has helped him earn Bs and Cs.
"He's a lot more relaxed now," Peterson says. "He wants a diploma out of college real bad."
Kading has other goals as well. At that Convocation, Peterson had suggested Kading might also one day be an Olympic titlist.
"He's got Olympic aspirations," Spates confirms. "Right now he wants to be a two-time NCAA champion."
As Spates spoke on the phone from Norman, Okla. Monday, Kading was spending part of his second full day as NCAA champion in the weight room.

COPYRIGHT 2009 Paddock Publications

This material is published under license from the publisher through the Gale Group, Farmington Hills, Michigan.  All inquiries regarding rights should be directed to the Gale Group.

This document provided by HighBeam Research at http://www.highbeam.com

Don Beebe's nephew wants to race him

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Title: Harner trying to catch up to his uncle.(Sports Extra)

Date: August 30, 2002 Publication: Daily Herald (Arlington Heights, IL) Author: Bush, Joe

Byline: Joe Bush Daily Herald Sports Writer
Sometime in the future, Kaneland senior Brent Harner will stand next to his uncle, crouch with him, then beat him to the finish line 40 yards away.
So what, right? Most people over 15 can run faster than their uncles.
Harner's uncle is Don Beebe, a 12-year NFL veteran who once was the NFL's fastest player. Beebe lives now in Yorkville and has kept his name in the spotlight with successful speed camps.
Beebe's best 40-yard-dash time was a 4.21, clocked by the New York Jets in 1989. Harner, a three-year starter at linebacker and tailback, runs a legitimate 4.5.
"One of these days I'm gonna be faster than him," Harner says.
Harner is faster than Beebe right now, actually. In a recent celebrity flag-football game hosted by Hall of Famers Dan Marino and Jim Kelly, Beebe tore the medial collateral and anterior cruciate ligaments in one knee.
"I quickly realized how old I was," the 1983 Kaneland grad says.
Harner has benefited from Beebe's speed camps since their inception four years ago, and from Beebe's wisdom as well.
Beebe was known in the NFL for his speed and grit and hustle. Harner has shown the same in his two seasons at Kaneland.
" (Beebe) tells me all the time it's a lot more mental than physical," Harner says.
Harner played some of his sophomore season with a broken hand. Last year he earned Daily Herald Tri-Cities All-Area status by rushing for 875 yards and 11 touchdowns, catching 6 passes for 189 yards and 2 scores, collecting the team's second-most tackles and leading the Knights with 4 sacks.
"I love them both," Harner says of his roles. "I love just nailing people. I like juking people. I get the best of both worlds."
He's put 10 pounds - to 185 - on his 5-foot-11 frame and is poised for a Player of the Year-type season.
"He's acting like a three-year starter," says Knights coach Joe Thorgesen, who also coached Beebe. "He's much stronger, he's faster. He seems to be running with a lot more confidence."
Beebe sees it, too, and despite, or because of, his relationship with Harner, goes as far as saying his nephew could play at a Division I program.
"Especially as a defensive back," Beebe says. "I would see him as more of a strong safety. I'm not saying he couldn't play tailback, but it might take him longer."
Beebe is well aware of the strange aura that surrounds white players who are exceptionally fast. He recalls a question at a media day before one of the Super Bowls he played in with Buffalo, something about whether he had any African-American relatives.
Such matters are far from Harner's mind as he and his mates prepare for Saturday's showdown with Class 4A champ Driscoll.
Besides, Harner believes that he's gotten the most benefit from Beebe's footwork drills, not those that improve straight-ahead speed work.
"In football the only time you use your speed is when you break away," Harner says.
Indeed, Thorgesen is excited about Harner's extra size and recognition of openings in the line.
"He's always had the capability of getting outside," Thorgesen says. "This year he's going to take on the tackler. Last year he got better with each game. This year he's going to be more of a complete back. His vision's improved. The hesitancy's over."
That goes for both sides of the ball, and Harner's demeanor overall. He's a senior now, one who remembers what it was like as a sophomore on the varsity and can help this year's youngsters.
"I was nervous," he says. "I was looking all over the place, like 'Wow, these guys are moving!' I know how they feel. I'm trying to help them out."
By Oct. 5, those sophomores will be darn near juniors, football- wise, and Harner will be able to concentrate on beating Yorkville and settling a minor family feud.
Yorkville junior Craig McQuade is another of Beebe's nephews, and as a safety last season McQuade put a couple good licks on Harner. Beebe watched from the Foxes' sideline as an assistant coach.
Beebe no longer coaches for Yorkville, and McQuade will be the Foxes' quarterback.
"Now it's my turn," Harner says.
Beebe likely will be at that game, and will be proud, whether Harner collides with McQuade or McQuade throws a TD pass or Harner busts free for a TD run.
Before and since the Knights program captured the state's attention with Class 3A titles in 1995 and 1996, it has boasted solid running backs.
Beebe is still the most famous.
Harner has worn No. 22 - Beebe's number at Kaneland - since grade school, in football and basketball.
"Where he's really grown is his confidence in himself," Beebe says of Harner. "The mental part of his game. You have to know you're good or you're probably not gonna get the job done.
"You're gonna see a big year out of him simply because of that."

COPYRIGHT 2009 Paddock Publications

This material is published under license from the publisher through the Gale Group, Farmington Hills, Michigan.  All inquiries regarding rights should be directed to the Gale Group.

This document provided by HighBeam Research at http://www.highbeam.com

A kid with a middle name of Hercules was good at HS football

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Title: A Herculean Force Speron leads Benet's quest to conquer all foes.(Sports Extra (High School))

Date: September 26, 1997 Publication: Daily Herald (Arlington Heights, IL) Author: Bush, Joe

Byline: Joe Bush Daily Herald Sports Writer
There was this strong guy in Greco-Roman mythology who as a servant to his brother had to perform 12 tasks; clean some stables, kill some monsters, fetch some golden apples, tame a three-headed dog.
His name was Hercules, and he was the son of Zeus, the big daddy of Greek gods.
There's this strong guy who one day could be in Benet Academy's mythology. Last summer he hiked up California's 14,494-foot Mt. Whitney - the tallest peak in the lower 48 states - earned the honor of representing Benet at an Illinois high school leadership conference, attended two football camps, visited five Eastern universities and spent two weeks in Arizona.
His name is Eric, but his middle name is Hercules, and he's the son of Steve, the owner of Steve's Gyros in Lombard.
Eric Hercules Speron does heroic things on the football field, as well.
The 6-foot-3, 245-pound senior defensive end and Redwings co-captain will be in the thick of the Redwings' attempt to corral the near-mythic running of Marian Catholic's Terrence Pirtle tomorrow at 1:30 p.m in Lisle.
Pirtle is well on his way to 1,500 yards, while Benet feels this is its year to not only qualify for the playoffs for the first time since 1988, but to make a dent in them.
"Our school hasn't been interested in football the least bit," Speron says. "We're the only team that doesn't have a banner up in the gym. I mean, it's pathetic.
"This is the year we can do something about it, and we're gonna."
So one of Speron's tasks is to help restore glory to the program, and another is to stop Pirtle. Marian Catholic thrives on off-tackle plays, and Redwings coach Gary Goforth moved the three-year starter from defensive tackle this season for just such occasions.
It's not enough that Speron will line up across from a 300-pound tackle.
"This week I guess the fullback's gonna come at me, and then the guard and the tight end," Speron says. "They're gonna triple-team me. I invite the challenge. If they're gonna be running to me, I can control what happens. I'd rather them run to me any day."
So would Goforth, who has watched Speron grow physically - from a 6-foot-1, 190-pound sophomore tackle - and as a person.
Despite a divorce which has Speron and his brother Roman living in Naperville with their mother Bev and a stepfather, Speron couldn't be happier.
He visits Steve at his restaurant three times a week for meals which include two or three "beefs" and spends Thursday nights with him. He says their relationship is stronger than it's ever been.
Speron has good enough grades for him to consider playing Ivy League football, he's the senior-class treasurer and he's one of the leaders of one of the best teams in Class 4A.
"My life's gotten a lot better," Speron says. "Football, school. My grades have gone up a ton."
Speron credits the jump in grades to his switch to Benet from Naperville's public schools.
"It's just like a new environment, you get a chance to meet new people," Speron says. "The people here are all going to college."
Speron is one of them, and may get some financial help if he continues his level of play. Last week he made back-to-back stops to halt a late Carmel drive in a 28-21 Benet win.
Speron leaped to smother a pass on third down at the Redwings 16, then shared a sack with Scott Graves on fourth down. For the game, Speron had 6 solo tackles, 8 assists, a tackle for loss and a caused fumble.
"We needed some big plays from our seniors," Goforth says. "(Speron) just rose to the occasion. Eric's finally come of age."
Indeed, Speron's miserable experience in the trenches on a 2-7 1995 squad makes him appreciate his responsibilities at end this season. In his first varsity game, he was devoured by Fenwick's Marques Sullivan, now a starter at Illinois.
"Most teams are gonna run off-tackle, or they're gonna sweep - those are the two basic plays in football," Speron says. "I'm in a position to stop both of them.
"It's a lot different ballgame. You're out there, you have one shoulder of an offensive tackle to work on and the tight end comes down on you.
"Not guard, center every play, double-teaming you. Especially when I was younger, it was just so demeaning every play to get 250-pound guys to just fall on top of me every single play. Now I can see the field. I can pursue a lot better. Make plays."
Speron is much better equipped to take on guards, fullbacks and tailbacks after gaining 50 pounds since his sophomore season. Weight-room dedication along with those visits to Steve's beef emporium have done the trick.
The extra weight hasn't hampered his conditioning for two reasons: that five-day trip to the top of Mt. Whitney, and his first-year stint as a part-time offensive guard.
Though he didn't get to lift weights as much as he would have liked because of his summer wanderings, Speron found that walking up steep inclines with a heavy backpack has its effect on a guy.
"After Whitney, my legs were shot," Speron says. "I had blisters for two weeks and couldn't move my legs. It was like squat repetitions for a day. It was, seriously, at least a week before I could move my legs."
Speron played on the offensive line his freshman year, so he has been one of the few defensive Redwings to sit in on offensive meetings the past three seasons.
The call came this season, and while Speron adjusts to two-way play a little at a time, he's in for crucial third-down plays and important series.
By the time the weather's cooler - playoff time - he could be blocking full time or he could give way to junior Mike Greenfield if Greenfield is ready.
"We needed guys to move people out," Goforth says. "Eric could do it."
"It's not as tough as defense," Speron says. "You can tie and still win on offense. On defense, you've really gotta beat 'em to make a difference."
Speron would like to make that impact as an inside linebacker. He practiced middle linebacker at the Northwestern and Princeton camps he attended last summer and plays there on goal-line defense.
"Defensive end, I'm taking on the same kind of guys," Speron says. "I get fullbacks 60 to 70 percent of the time anyway now. I think I can find the ball pretty well. We'll see how much speed I need to pick up."
Goforth says he needs Speron's size on the line in the Catholic League, but has no trouble seeing Speron behind the line someday.
"He has a knack of running people down," Goforth says. "I think the college that gets him will get a diamond."
Speaking of colleges, Vanderbilt and Missouri are the largest to express interest in Speron. Bev, who "doesn't know a linebacker from a running back," according to Speron, is learning fast.
Since Vanderbilt called, she's taken a crash course in the sport. There was a picture of Roman, a junior Redwings running back, in the paper last week, and she ordered 11 copies of the photo.
"She asks me how practice goes, I tell her, she doesn't know if that's good or bad," Speron says. " 'What do you mean you hurt a kid? Are they gonna kick you off the team?' It's good she's interested now."
While Speron gets his size from Steve, he gets the love of football from Bev's side of the family. Past family gatherings wouldn't be the same without impromptu gridiron clashes.
"Forty-year-old uncles of mine just go at it - dive through the middle, lay each other out, they've got knees that are not even there anymore," Speron says. "They're real competitive."
Before and after the 12 tasks, the original Hercules led men into battle and successfully waged war. A modern-day Hercules could hardly do otherwise.
"This is the best bunch of guys," Speron says of his teammates. "Everybody's really close. We all know where we wanna go. We're not gonna be happy making the playoffs like we would've been last year.
"We're going for 8-1. I don't think there's any reason in the world why we can't."

COPYRIGHT 2009 Paddock Publications

This material is published under license from the publisher through the Gale Group, Farmington Hills, Michigan.  All inquiries regarding rights should be directed to the Gale Group.

This document provided by HighBeam Research at http://www.highbeam.com

HS football power wins playoff game with hook-and-ladder on game's last play

HighBeam Research

Title: WW South books extended run of hit play.(Sports)

Date: November 9, 1996 Publication: Daily Herald (Arlington Heights, IL) Author: Bush, Joe

Byline: Joe Bush Daily Herald Sports Writer
And now, a play, titled "The Wheaton Warrenville South Hook-and-Ladder," as performed by the WW South troupe, and directed, as always, by John Thorne.
Shhh.
The scene: Windy Gately Stadium on the South side of Chicago Friday for a Class 6A second-round game. WW South and Public League champ Dunbar are tied at 22-22 with less than 20 seconds to play. The ball is at the WW South 38.
Cool and calm senior quarterback Tim Brylka drops a step, turns right and throws. Senior receiver Justin Penn, hobbling and fitted with a brace on his right knee after a first-quarter injury, catches 12 yards away.
From nowhere comes the dashing hero, senior running back Kelly Crosby. Penn pitches the ball to Crosby, who sprints 50 yards for the winning touchdown with seven seconds to play.
Half the audience erupts in applause. The curtain closes on Dunbar's season.
WW South's 30-22 victory propelled the Tigers to the quarterfinals against the winner of today's Evanston/New Trier game, and recalled a similar ending to a similarly meaningful game in 1993.
That last time Thorne called the play to win a game, the then-No. 1 Tigers trailed No. 2 Naperville North with time running out in a regular-season matchup.
The names were different - Tim Lester to Kasey Klaas to Bobby Nelson - but the result the same.
"I was hoping to repeat the same thing, and it happened," said Crosby, who scored 28 points, helped Terrance Moore stuff what would have been the go-ahead 2-point run with 19 seconds to play, ran for 95 yards and caught a pass for 37 yards on a first-half-ending scoring drive.
Dunbar (9-2) led 16-14 at the half, led by the speed of junior tailback Rausell Harvey, who ran for 166 yards and 2 TDs in the first half.
The Tigers bottled up Harvey (36 rushes, 233 yards) for most of the second half, but he gained 59 yards on 10 carries in the Mightymen's 16-play, 75-yard game-tying march.
Crosby played defense for the first time all season on the 2-point attempt, and he and Moore stopped quarterback Dorwin Jefferson - who had scored from 2 yards out - at the 1. Brylka was on the field at the time as well.
"The entire drive I kept talking to the defensive coaches, saying, 'You can use Kelly, you can use Brylka, take them, use them, take them, use them,' " Thorne said. "It's just natural for 'em to flow to the ball, and make plays."
The Tigers had gone ahead 22-16 on a 14-play, 91-yard drive which Crosby ended with a 1-yard run at 6:47 of the third quarter. After a Tigers delay-of-game penalty, Brylka hit Kyle Hubert for the 2-point play.
"We had a good surge off the line," Crosby said. "I just tried to run my hardest. After the first series, after halftime, I could tell (the Mightymen) were getting tired. I knew we could run anything against them."
The extended run continues next week.

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This material is published under license from the publisher through the Gale Group, Farmington Hills, Michigan.  All inquiries regarding rights should be directed to the Gale Group.

This document provided by HighBeam Research at http://www.highbeam.com

Drunk boating: don't do it

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Title: Maritime mayhem: why boating and booze don't always mix.(Time Out)

Date: August 13, 1999 Publication: Daily Herald (Arlington Heights, IL) Author: Bush, Joe

Byline: Joe Bush Daily Herald Staff Writer
How can Earl Zuelke put this nicely?
"I don't think we have the same level of alcohol craziness," he says.
Zuelke is Lt. Zuelke, commanding officer of the Chicago Police Department's Marine Unit, and he's comparing his jurisdiction - the Chicago River and Lake Michigan - to that of Lt. Bruce Scottberg.
Scottberg is Zuelke's counterpart for the Lake County Sheriff Department, whose marine patrolmen prowl the Fox River and Chain O'Lakes.
The numbers dramatically back up Zuelke's words.
The maritime equivalent of a DUI is an OUI (Operating Under the Influence), and the same legally drunk blood-alcohol level - 0.08 - applies to the road or the water.
Scottberg says since May 1, his patrolmen have issued 28 OUIs. Zuelke's men have written none since May 15.
Last year, Scottberg's officers made 54 OUI arrests, smashing the previous high of 22. Two of the 54 citations went to boaters on the Lake Michigan portion of Scottberg's beat, the rest to Chain O'Lakes users.
Zuelke and Scottberg agree on one theory for the gap in OUI busts: the awesome expanse of Lake Michigan.
"That is intimidating to a lot of people," Zuelke says.
Boaters and sailors, afraid of the dangers inherent in a large body of water - current, wind, waves - simply take fewer chances.
Zuelke cites the greater amount of waterfront bars and restaurants in the Chain O'Lakes, as well.
Perhaps the most important factor, says Scottberg, is his department's increased vigilance, mandated by Lake County Sheriff Gary Del Re after alcohol played a role in Lake County's only two 1998 boating fatalities.
"It's something that Sheriff Del Re and myself feel very strongly about," Scottberg says.
According to the U.S. Coast Guard, a boat operator with a .10 blood-alcohol level is 10 times more likely to die in a boating accident than an operator with no alcohol in the blood.
Another USCG statistic: alcohol is a major factor in as many as 50 percent of all recreational boating deaths.
Scottberg's staff pilots two search-and-rescue boats on Lake Michigan, and four vessels on the Chain O'Lakes, two of which are diverted to inland lakes on the weekends.
This year a pilot program adds two Jet-Skis to Scottberg's force, which conforms to different rules of enforcement than do officers on the road.
Illinois law allows boat operators to drink while driving, so what marine police look for is not possession, but impairment.
They are free from a basic tenet of land-based officers of the law:
"I don't need probable cause," Scottberg says.
Whereas police on land need a reason to pull over a driver, water cops need only to proclaim a safety check.
Once police stop a boater for a safety check, the officer can determine the boater's demeanor. Zuelke says his staff has done 360 inspections thus far this boating season, and handed out 310 safety citations.
If an officer believes the boater is drunk, he or she conducts the same field sobriety tests done on land. If the field test is failed, the boater is charged with an OUI and asked to take a breath test.
The boater can refuse, but it will cost him or her boat privileges for two years. No arrest on the water affects a person's regular driving record.
Sometimes Scottberg's or Zuelke's men don't need to make a safety check to gauge a boater's impairment.
A controlled study done by the Boat Owners Association of the United States Foundation for Boating Safety in the summer of 1998 had boaters drive a series of courses after drinking an increasing amount of alcohol.
After three drinks, researchers noted that the most common mistakes were varied boat speed, wide turns, and overcompensation at the helm.
Scottberg says he and his officers are alarmed when boaters disobey no-wake zones by entering them at full throttle before cutting speed instead of gradually decreasing power, and break the after-sunset speed limit of 25 mph.
Both Zuelke and Scottberg insist most boaters, like drivers, are safe and sober. You only hear about the unsafe ones.
"We've got a small percentage of people who take the term 'recreational boating' a little too seriously," Zuelke says.

COPYRIGHT 2009 Paddock Publications

This material is published under license from the publisher through the Gale Group, Farmington Hills, Michigan.  All inquiries regarding rights should be directed to the Gale Group.

This document provided by HighBeam Research at http://www.highbeam.com

Football and family

HighBeam Research

Title: More than a game North Stars' Cozzi doesn't play the sport of his father and brothers, he lives it.(Sports Extra)

Date: September 6, 2002 Publication: Daily Herald (Arlington Heights, IL) Author: Bush, Joe

Byline: Joe Bush Daily Herald Sports Writer
Dom Cozzi cries because he cares.
"Cares" is inadequate. Cozzi, the St. Charles North tailback, cries because it's the only show of emotion that does justice to how he feels about football.
His tears are as thick as the blood that flowed from his father, Jim, to his brothers, Mike and Tony, and now to him.
Like them, Cozzi's a varsity football player. It's all he's wanted to be, and he's the last of Jim's boys to be one.
Dom Cozzi knows how to appreciate these moments in time.
Last Friday the 6-foot, 200-pounder showed all his skills on one dramatic play. With the North Stars down 6-0 to Fremd, Cozzi bounced off a tackler, spun against the grain, and outsprinted the secondary for an 18-yard touchdown.
Cozzi leaped the final couple of yards to ensure the points. After Kevin Czerwinski made the point-after kick for the 7-6 lead with 3:53 to play, Cozzi ran to the sidelines and, with the home crowd hopping, leaped into his father's arms.
Jim, a defensive end on the undefeated 1969 Oak Park High team, and a longtime high school line coach, is also a North Stars assistant.
"Right after the touchdown I was really trying to get the guys to quit celebrating and let everybody know we're going for one (point), and trying to get everybody together, so I really didn't see everything happening, but you see (the hug) on film," North Stars coach Mark Gould says. "They're very close. Football's a very strong bond."
Minutes later, as Fremd began a drive that reclaimed the lead, Cozzi stood apart on the sidelines, helmet on, bawling. Not tears rolling down a stoic face. Body-shaking sobs.
"Football means a lot to him," Jim Cozzi says.
Jim Jr., Mike and Tony played at Glenbard West, where Jim helped coach Jim Covert guide one of the western suburbs' powers in the 1980s and early '90s.
Dom would sit close to the tunnel underneath the home stands from which the Hilltoppers would emerge before the game and after halftime.
"I always thought that would be the best feeling," he says. "I couldn't wait for my senior year, varsity. It's always what I've been waiting for."
Dom remembers Tony's career the clearest. A linebacker and offensive tackle, Tony was an all-West Suburban Silver Conference performer. When Dom began playing, in seventh grade, he was a linebacker and offensive tackle.
Tony was a 1992 graduate, and Jim stopped coaching at Glenbard West in 1994. It's no coincidence that he's coaching where his youngest son plays.
At St. Charles High, before the split, a freshman coach asked Dom to be a scout-team running back, and that was the end of his days in the trenches.
He also played safety up until the third game of the 2001 season, and he says he doesn't miss defense a bit. Relieved of defensive responsibility, Cozzi ran for 737 yards and 5 TDs, and caught 19 passes for 193 yards.
"I don't think I have the right mindset for defense," he says. "I think I have a different type of intensity."
He's complicated, folks. Cozzi will punish those trying to bring him down but doesn't relish tackling people.
All who have seen him play football attest to his toughness. He likes to relax with a book - favorite author, Kurt Vonnegut - or by writing poems.
He wears No. 41 because Mike, the eldest brother, did, and because it was Brian Piccolo's number. Piccolo was the Chicago Bears running back who died of cancer in 1970.
"He had great heart and never stopped going until the end," Cozzi says.
Mike and Jim Jr. have been able to make it to Dom's games. Of course, so has Jim Sr. All eyes on Dom to make the most of being the last of Jim's sons to play football, to hoist the North Stars to respectability.
"I think he feels some weight on him right now," Gould says. "To finish up the Cozzi name, to put a big exclamation point on it. Sometimes Dom feels like he's got to carry the team a little bit. I know he's feeling some pressure."
During last year's 2-7 season Dom was often the Stars' only weapon, and opponents picked up that scent.
"I don't want to feel like I didn't get yards because I was keyed on," Cozzi says. "I don't feel like I should ever have an excuse. After Fremd last year it was like that every game, and it's gonna be like that this year. There's not much I can do about it. Just gotta keep running."
There's a different football bond among these North Stars who paved the varsity way with bruises and ligament tears and the humiliations of running clocks when behind by 40 points.
Now they're all faster, stronger, smarter, more comfortable and less afraid.
Fremd made the clock run in the North Stars' first varsity game, so when Cozzi's touchdown and Czerwinski's extra point put the North Stars less than four minutes from a thrilling turnaround, many things squeezed Cozzi's throat.
He felt like it was one thing.
"Joy," he says a few days later. "I thought we had 'em. I thought there was no way they were coming back after that. We have this great team, 7-6 right now, and this how it's gonna end.
"It wasn't for any selfish reason. It was just our team, our defense was doing great. It was just a great feeling, something we didn't really have last year."
"It's what I've been waiting for."

COPYRIGHT 2009 Paddock Publications

This material is published under license from the publisher through the Gale Group, Farmington Hills, Michigan.  All inquiries regarding rights should be directed to the Gale Group.

This document provided by HighBeam Research at http://www.highbeam.com