0 - 4
In the next breath Brady had his arm around Glen, ask-
ing, "How's school? How's the family?"
Glen grew up off the field, under Brady's guidance. When
Glen got in trouble at night, he gave Brady a call. Sometimes
he called Brady at 2 a.m. just to leave him a message after a
night on the town.
Brady didn't like the late-night wake up calls, but this
is why he loves coaching at the college level. "At 18 to 23, I
know how I was," he says. He needed to learn the technique.
He needed to grow up.
Off the field they need a friend. On it, they need a father.
Maybe they just need Brady Hoke - his players play hard
for him because they love him; they play well because he
teaches them.
Now get really close, right next to Glen's shoulder. Brady's
there. He stopped practice because he doesn't like the way
Glen's playing.
Brady holds his index finger and thumb three inches
apart, holding an invisible golf tee on top of Glen's shoul-
der.
"See that?" Brady asks Glen. "You know who that is?
That's Freddy Soft. He's telling you it's OK, you don't have to
work hard today. You can take it easy today."
Brady could hear the other guys laughing.
"He knew that pissed me off," Glen says.
By Glen's fifth year, he always lined up across from the
opponent's best offensive lineman. Two future NFL stars,
Orlando Pace and Flozell Adams, were his biggest chal-
lenges.
Glen tallied five tackles and a sack against Adams and five
tackles and two sacks on Pace on his way to an All-America
season.
Now, Brady tells his players to watch Glen Steele film.
That is his legacy.
Glen looks down at what he's written on the white piece
of paper, reminding him what he needs to talk to his guys
about today. He folds and unfolds it, not staring at it for too
long because each bullet point conjures examples he'd like
to forget. It's his job to fix them and teach his guys.
He looks you in the eye when he talks to you, piercing and
demanding, you can't help but listen to what he has to say.
Gray hairs start to peak out from underneath his "Fort
Wayne Snider Football" hat. His beard is mostly dark hug-
ging his square jaw, but his eyes cast shadows. That's the
only sign Glen is 37-years old. Otherwise, he still looks like
he can play.
It's raining today, so they'll have to practice in the gym,
which is good and bad because he'll get to spend more
individual time with his nine varsity defensive linemen.
The list in his hand starts with the same four things he
writes on it before every practice:
1.Attitude
2. Consistent
3. Play with passion
4. Pad level
A few more notes are scribbled below - he won't let
anyone see what's written there. Those two points are
just between him and the starters he has to challenge
today.
He heads for the gym and runs into another assis-
tant coach, Bob Bergeron, in the empty locker room
- Bergeron's the former Michigan kicker that Brady
introduced Glen to, which led to Glen landing the job at
Snider.
Glen smiles as wide as he- can when he says "hi" to
Bergeron's little girl, who came to work today.
Glen almost had a little girl of his own. His eyes soften
and dart away when he talks about it.
Last October his first daughter was
born. She passed away in December
from congenital heart disease. He and
his wife still want two kids. They're
working on it, while Glen starts his
coaching career. He's also thinking
about going back to school to become a
teacher.
"When you're trying to start a family
and when you get up to that level, coach-
ing college football, there is no time. It
takes you away from your kids, espe-
cially your pivotal years that your father
should be there. Lord knows a woman
would have to be very understanding.
"But I also know what is more impor-
tant to me, and that's starting a family.
I can do that and still make a difference
at this level.
"It's about memories. When it's all
said and done it's our memories that
are there. We're all going to come and GLEN STEEL E
we'reall going to go; it's the memories
we leave behind." THE PROTEGE
Practice is about to start.
He has nine boys staring at him, not
daring to flinch, as he looks down again "THESE KIDSDOWN THE LINE, THEYBECOME
at that piece of paper.
These are the things Glen heard COACHERSAND THEY TEACH WHAT I TAUGHT THEM"
from Brady. Glen still calls Brady with
questions about how he should coach
certain kids. He called Brady about
Donte Bowen, a defensive tackle whose school shut down,
landing him in Glen's lap for his senior season.
Bowen's talented and has a lot of MAC schools looking
at him, but he doesn't know how to use his hands. He never
really was coached technique before. Brady tells Glen to
work with Bowen on his hands 20 minutes before and after
practice, like they used to do.
"First of all, how's everybody doing in school," Glen
starts.
Bowen says he's re-taking a test on Thursday. Another
defensive tackle, Weston Painter, smiles when he announc-
es he got a 66-out-of-66 on his history test.'
Then Glen looks them all in the eye at once.
He goes through each point on the list, and then starts
working on their six-inch power step.
"Take that step - boom, boom," he says, thrusting
his hands into the air, showing them how the wrong step
throws off balance.
When a kid makes a mistake, he stops the drill and dem-
onstrates what they did wrong and how to fix it.
His defensive ends get called to another station, so it's
just Glen and his tackles now.
He starts them on a new one-on-one drill, showing them
how to take on a moving guard with their hands, and still
maintain their gap assignments.
Painter steps in first. He's a 6-foot-2, 245-pound junior
but Glen still could swallow him whole. Painter's reps are
better than others but its still not where Glen wants them
to be.
"You're getting high and it kills you," Glen says, show-
ing him how low he needs to get. "Take everything you
have and throw it out the window because you're getting
high."
Painter isn't perfect again, his hands are too far out-
side and his pads are too high. Again, Glen shows Painter
where to put his hands, how to move his feet if the guard
runs inside. Painter steps in again.
This time, Glen sends the guard outside. Painter
doesn't even get his hands on the guy.
Glen's face gets red. He pulls Painter close.
"This week is going to determine if you're a starter or
not," Glen says, his voice rising. "Let's get it right and let's
get it going. You can do it."
Painter steps back in.
"Better, better." Glen says after his rep.
The period ends and the gym empties.
Glen puts his arm around Painter as they walk out. Glen
does most of the talking.
"What I saw lastyear on tape and what I see now are two
different people," Glen says. "You have to take it seriously.
Play with technique. Doit right this week."
Painter can't decide whether to stare at his shoes or look
straight ahead.
"Everything all right at home?" Glen asks. "School?"
Painter nods.
"Good," Glen says, patting his back.
It'll take many more instances, many more moments,
many more choices - Painter's going to have to live a bit
longer - before the kid truly understands what his name
means to him. Until then, Glen will have his arm around
him.
"It's amazing how much you really take from your coach-
es and make it into your coaching," Glen says now. "And
these kids down the line, they become coaches and they
teach what I taught them. It just keeps going and going and
going."
The same poem that Painter reads in Glen's playbook,
Glen read in Lloyd's, and Brady has in his at Michigan -
"The Man in the Glass," written by Dale Wimbrow in 1934.
The last stanza reads:
You may fool the whole world down the pathway of years.
Andget pats on the back as you pass,
But yourfinal reward will be the heartaches and tears
Ifyou've cheated the man in the glass.
8 FootballSaturday - September 24, 2011