PSU Magazine Winter 1994

- out of high school, yet went on to a distinguished career in the NFL as quarterback with the St. Louis/Phoenix Cardinals. "Mouse Davis and PSU were the only ones to offer me a scholarship," Lomax says. "That turned out to be to my advantage. I think that I got a better chance to develop at PSU, and it gave me more playing time. To be quite honest, I was at the very best only a mediocre football player in high school." "Neil's an example of the kind of guy we're looking for," says Walsh. "Loaded with talent, but for whatever reason overlooked. Our philosophy is, let's gamble sometimes when recruiting. We look for a six-four or six-five lineman, but maybe he weighs only 210. So nobody recruits him. We say, can he be 260 pounds in a couple of years with a good weight program?" Whether it's zeroing in on non– traditional recruits or actively pursuing a star, Portland State has one advan– tage over a Division I school: playing time. "At the Division I level you can be red- hirted or fall into a reserve role for two or three years," explains Nordloff. "But at a Division II school like PSU, a kid's got a chance to be an impact player immediately. Plu there's a chance to be an All-American for three or four years, instead of only having a shot at it during senior year." In short, athletes often get lost in the numbers game at the Division I schools. As a re ult of lack of playing time or lack of attention, they transfer, like linebacker JeffBockert. James Jessie, another former PAC-10 player, fits that mold. He recently transferred to Portland State from the University of Oregon. "I felt like I wasn't really helping the [U of OJ team win," explains Jessie. "In fact there wasn't much winning go ing on at all, and I wanted to be around a winning program. I felt I could experience that here at Portland State." Although the 1993 Vikings failed to win a national championship, Jesse did get to end his playing career on a winning team. The Vikings posted eight wins aga inst fo ur losses before making an early exit in the first rou nd of the 1993 NCAA II playoffs. "When a championship is won, whether it be in football or volleyball The Oregonian comes out on Monday morning and says 'Viks win!.' There isn't an asterisk after it aying chi is a Division II champion hip and it doesn't mean as much as a Division I championship," says Nordloff. "What it means is the players have excelled and competed and have obtained the highest level possible." Because college athletics-particu– larly football-generates so much revenue at the Division I level through television contracts, bowl game receipts and merchandising, there is huge pressure to win. Coaches, who have the luxu ry of offering as many as 90 full-ride scholarships, scour the country stockpiling players for each position. However, this often works achM un nes (above center) and Dan Bol John Charles (background photo) a star quarterback in 1991 -92. again t the best interest of the tudent-athlete; as Bockert's experi– ence proved, they can get lost in the crowd. "At Portland State," says Wal h, "where we only offer 31 scholarships, each young man is going to have the opportunity to play a lot sooner. We depend on every one." Regardless of the number of cholarships P U has to offer, it still gets its fair share of quality athletes. But what happens after an athlete's eligibility has expired? A lot of rhetoric is tossed about in college sports about the star athlete who lacks credible graduat ion statistics. At Portland State University that's not the case. "The first thing we do with any prospect, " Dunn says, "is ask, do we match up in terms of his or her educational goals and need ?Our emphasis is and has always been, education first. Bottom line is, they are here to get a degree. No one knows this better than I, because I played pro ball out of high school for five years and WINTER 1994 17