By wpengine September 26, 2002
Last Tuesday, as the setting sun darkened the tennis-ball green of the Schoellkopf turf, I stepped onto the field for my first official football interviews of the season. For the first time all semester I smelled football — we Joneses smell sports: Leather means baseball, sweat and wood means basketball and that night I smelled football. Cornell’s practice was winding down and I was set to meet with a few of the players as they were headed to the locker room. It was a setting worth remembering, but it wouldn’t just be the evening’s scent or the subtle night sky I’d take away from the experience. The interviews went well (whatever that may mean, no one got a question wrong?) but as I walked home one player’s words stood out in my mind and I couldn’t wait to share them with someone, anyone. My final of four meetings was with senior defensive tackle Bill Goodrich, a quiet guy by all accounts and not someone normally called upon to be a rousing leader on the Red squad. Regardless, the Sun had decided to go ahead and write one of our featured stories with a sort of “lead by example” theme on the silent leader for our football pullout. My talk with Goodrich began with just a general conversation about his position and the several players used in the rotation at defensive line. Goodrich had all the right answers, brushing off my comment about the cast he wore on his wrist (“Whatever, I’m ready to go on Saturday”), commenting on the balance of senior leadership and young talent, and talking like he’d been doing this for years. Then, I told him about the story we intended to write about him and only him. For the 6-3, 260-pound senior this was an impossibility. Like a criminal caught red-handed, he insisted I had the wrong guy. He decided the best way to make me see the error of my ways was to re-introduce himself. I insisted I knew his name and that, yes, he was the player about whom we had chosen to write our feature. Immediately, Goodrich’s face took on a look of panic as he searched for the words he expected I needed. What the Ohio native didn’t realize was he had already given me plenty of perspective on his role for the team and the type of person he was. Goodrich’s sheer modesty and genuine selflessness were more than apparent in his reaction to my simple declaration. “He’s just a good guy who leads by example without having to say much at all.” — to quote everyone I had previously spoken to. This was the truth about Bill Goodrich and I had learned it over the course of a 15-second reaction to my comment. While most Cornellians — ever so luckily — are not poisoned by devils of arrogance, a growing number of college athletes are being infected. Witness Florida quarterback Rex Grossman gloating wildly after last Saturday’s defeat of Tennessee (the Gators are 2-1, Heisman-not-so-hopeful, Rexy). It’s a growing trend in all of sports — the quiet leaders of yesteryear are out and the boisterous Warren Sapps of the world are in. Screaming lunatics are more marketable and sell more tickets. Aside: They also apparently sell more video games. Has anyone seen the commercial where various defensive NFL stars scream into mirrors to get psyched up for God knows what? If so, am I the only one who cracks up at Brian Urlacher’s “this is so ridiculous, I’ve been laughing for 43 takes now, just record the friggin’ thing” look? Priceless. I should do a column about football ads. Anyway, leadership itself seems to be a fading concept in sports as talented championship-caliber clubs like the Red Sox and Rams struggle for success due to a lack of headship. However, it is the Bill Goodriches of this world that can still make a huge impact for a team without anyone really knowing. Bernie Williams, John Stockton, and John Elway come to mind as these sorts of players. As I walked back home that night I pictured the towering figure looking at me as if I’d just blurted out some secret he had asked me to keep, and couldn’t help but laugh. I mean, how many athletes would truly react in such a way when told they were being featured by some publication? Randy Moss looked less upset when questioned about his steamrolling of a cop yesterday. Interviews are many times laughable but this time around I had a whole new reason for joviality. It was a refreshing taste of pure love for the game and reminded me why I can still smell sports, and always will.Archived article by Scott Jones
By wpengine September 26, 2002
Returning to the court after a sprained ankle is one thing. What junior outside hitter Debbie Quibell and classmate setter Rachel Rice did is an entirely different ball game. “Those two are coming back from major injuries,” head coach Christie Jackson stated. Major is probably an understatement. Quibell, who was named to the All-Ivy first team last season, hit a brick wall last spring when she learned she had degenerated discs in her back. “It was bound to show up at some point in my volleyball career, and it just happened to show up in the spring,” Quibell sighed. “It is not an injury that can be fixed in any amount of time. It is a chronic condition that I am going to have for the rest of my life.” When the problem initially appeared, Quibell was forced to stay completely away from volleyball for eight weeks, although she was able to go through rehab and do back exercises. When the semester ended, she continued with rehab to get back on track and gradually reincorporate volleyball into her training. “This spring, she did everything she could to get better without jumping, and that was a serious challenge,” Jackson recalled. “Then she went home and did everything she was supposed to do and then some, and she is so much better for it.” “At first, it was really hard to get into the routine because it was a daily exercise,” Quibell said of maintaining motivation. “But once I started to feel the benefits of doing it every day, and if it is something that is going to let me play volleyball with my teammates and compete at the level I want to compete at, it is worth going through the extra hours a day and making that sacrifice. I refuse to let any injury I have impede the success of this team.” Prior to the beginning of last season, Rice discovered she had a nerve disorder in her leg, a severe blow to the team, as Rice was just beginning to establish herself as the top setter in the league. After unsucessfully attempting to work through the affliction, Rice did not play volleyball for eight months. The uncertainty of a return to volleyball combined with the demanding rehab schedule could have detoured a less devoted player. But Rice did not give in. “There was not a point when I wanted to stop, but there were points along the way when I was told I wouldn’t be able to play,” she said. Rice worked with physical therapists to get her body prepared for another season. She had to readjust to the rhythm of the matches and get a feeling for the ball. “It was so hard without her, and I just respect her for so much hard work she has done, both mentally and physically,” Jackson said. “I don’t know if you can imagine being out for a whole year and then coming back like that, so it’s pretty impressive. “She’s clearly the best setter in the league,” Jackson continued. “Having her back is just the greatest thing ever.” Both stars attributed their recovery to the massive support group that formed around them. “I had a lot of support from my coaches and teammates, and they made me look forward to playing again,” Rice said. “If there are days I need to go lighter in practice, coach will hold me out of some drills,” Quibell explained. “My teammates are incredible. They are always willing to step in for me and if I come into practice and I’m sore, I have my teammates just picking up the slack for me.” Through dedication, encouragement, and desire, Quibell and Rice have overcome serious injuries to return to the court The attitudes of these two women will continue to influence the rest of the team throughout the rest of the season. “Debbie and Rachel are who I’m completely depending on,” Jackson said. She could not have picked two better players for that job. Archived article by Katherine Granish