Doc: This year, it's La Salle's turn
Last Friday night, hundreds of people stood in the rain on the football field at La Salle High School and sang the alma mater like happy fools, and we mean that in the nicest of ways. The Lancers had just bounced Moeller but good, 34-9, and losing control of certain faculties seemed the appropriate response.
One of the celebrants was Ron Slageter (Class of '78) whose son Michael graduated from La Salle in 2010. Ron met his wife, Micki, in high school. Micki attended Mother of Mercy. Their daughter, Rebecca, who went to McAuley and is a college sophomore, met a La Salle guy when each was in high school, and they're still an item. That's just how it works on the West Side.
They all got soaked last Friday. It was lovely. This is what high school football can mean.
The Lancers are 6-0, and businesses along North Bend Road are flying banners. They're 6-0 and Bob Besse (Class of '66) signed up for a TV package specifically so he would not miss La Salle playing St. Xavier this Friday, while Bob spends the week in Hilton Head, S.C., with one his sons (who of course went to La Salle) and their families.
Meanwhile, you ask Barrett Cohen, La Salle's director of alumni relations, what a 6-0 record and a No. 1 ranking in Ohio Division II means, he says, "There is nothing I can do that is more powerful than (La Salle) beating a GCL team.''
The athletic director, Dan Flynn (La Salle '74, are we noticing a trend here?) was the defensive coordinator the first time the Lancers beat Moeller, in 1989. That win was notable mainly because the two schools each opened in 1960, and had played each other every year.
Flynn called that one The Game. Now, he's changing his mind.
Understand: La Salle has always been good at certain sports. Basketball, for instance. And cross country. La Salle has produced NFL players lately, too: Tight end Brent Celek, linebacker J.K. Schaffer, wideout DeVier Posey. But the Lancers football program forever has played L'il Bro to its GCL South mates. Of course, lots of schools would be in the same situation if they had to play Moeller, St. X and Elder for a title every year.
Not this year, though. At least not so far.
Their coach is a Mason High grad that West Siders somehow allowed to cross the border. Nate Moore took over last year, and promptly went 3-7. "Our team was broken and that was my fault,'' he says. "We weren't together.''
The Lancers hung with the big brothers, but couldn't close. Something was missing. Moore decided it was the extra effort involved when players play for each other instead of for themselves. After the season, Moore didn't read up on Rockne or Lombardi or Belichick. He studied the ways of the Navy SEALs.
"I got a little obsessive,'' Moore admits. "They're the best in the world at building team.''
From his obsession, Moore advanced the notions of severely hard work – "If everybody can do it, we're not doing it right,'' he says – and of shared responsibility. Football is the ultimate team game. Things don't work right when things get selfish.
He broke his team into six "accountability groups'' in the offseason. He doled out punishment the SEALs way: If one group member messed up, they all paid for it.
He took his team to Higher Ground for three nights, the retreat where UC holds its preseason camp. It was more about bonding than football. "I can X and O, but that's not my passion. If that's what it was all about, I'd be selling insurance. Getting us to be the best we can be is totally different from how we run off tackle,'' Moore says.
The result has been a better conditioned team, whose members care about each other. "The focus isn't on winning. Some people cringe when they hear that,'' says Moore.
It's about playing as well as possible, and being selfless about it. Selflessness is a tough concept for a high school kid, especially now. The current culture doesn't exactly reward it. Says Moore, "You're called to serve your teammates. They're not here for you. You're here for them. That's not a message our kids are bombed with today. We're getting kids to do something that is counterculture.''
It's working well at the moment. Its rewards are mostly intangible. Memories are free and priceless; pride and feelgood aren't on the stat sheet. The students walk the halls with their heads higher, fall Fridays are a time of anticipation. "The alums yell louder'' at the games, says Barrett Cohen.
It happens every year, somewhere. Last year, it was Loveland. The Tigers went 15-0 and won their first state championship, pulling a far-flung and disparate community together and along for the ride. This year, it's La Salle's turn. "An opportunity to tap our chests,'' Cohen says.
Meantime, on Hilton Head Island, Bob Besse is beaming. And saying this: "Thank god for ESPN Cleveland.''