Offensive linemen deal with food and weight issues

By JOE SCALZO

scalzo@vindy.com

YOUNGSTOWN

Cheez-it soup

Total time: 5 minutes

Servings: 1

2   handfuls of Cheez-Its

1⁄2 cup cheese

1⁄4 cup ketchup.

Hand-crush Cheez-Its into medium-sized bowl. Sprinkle cheese on top. Microwave until cheese is melted. Add ketchup.

Stir, serve and enjoy.

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YSU senior Justin Rechichar is a 6-foot-4, 295-pound center with more hair on his back than his head.

His roommate, senior guard Eric Rodemoyer, calls him “Rat-chichar” or Master Splinter, a reference (and not a nice one) to the talking rat that trained the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

Rodemoyer is a nutrition freak — “I’ve been trying to get him to eat a peanut M&M for two years,” Rechichar said — while Rechichar is the inventor of the aforementioned Cheez-It soup, which features the generic ingredient “cheese” for a reason.

“Any kind of cheese he can put his hands on because he’s a rat,” Rodemoyer said. “Rats love cheese.”

Rodemoyer arrived on YSU’s campus three years ago as a 6-3, 315-pound transfer from West Virginia, immediately earning the nickname “Michelin Man” from his future roommate.

Over the next three years, Rodemoyer’s weight fluctuated between 275 (usually during the offseason) and 295 (a little more than he weighs now).

Every week and a half, he drives to Sam’s Club and fills his cart with $200 worth of turkey burgers, turkey sausage, eggs, whole wheat toast, potatoes and Muscle Milk protein shake mix.

It’s the literal and figurative price of being an all-conference lineman for a Football Championship Subdivision team.

“All I do is eat,” Rodemoyer said. “That’s all I spend my money on.”

Problem is, you add — and keep — weight easier when you’re eating junk food. Which is why, after dropping to 280 during training camp this summer, Rodemoyer was forced to forgo his diet and — gasp! — join his teammates for Wing Night at Quaker Steak & Lube in Austintown.

His teammates swear he ate 50 wings.

“They lie,” he said. “I ate about 10 wings and I was sick to my stomach.”

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“Hey, the offensive linemen are the biggest guys on the field. They’re bigger than everybody else, and that’s what makes them the biggest guys on the field.”

— John Madden

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This is a story about offensive linemen, which means it’s also a story about weight, which means it’s also a story about food and fat and the physical problems that come from spending your prime years ramming into the 300-pounder in front of you several thousand times.

In 1970, the NFL had just one player who weighed 300 pounds: San Diego offensive tackle Gene Ferguson. Two years later, the Miami Dolphins went undefeated running behind a line that averaged 262 pounds.

In 1978, a 6-foot-7 offensive lineman from Cardinal Mooney named Ed Muransky was recruited by Michigan coach Bo Schembechler. Like all coaches at the time, Schembechler preferred his linemen to be big, physical — and under 300 pounds.

“When I was recruited, Bo Schembechler or [Ohio State coach] Woody Hayes never heard of a 300-pound lineman,” said Muransky, now the radio analyst for YSU broadcasts. “So, during my four years, there were times when [tackle] Bubba Paris and I were well over 300. And little did we know that Bo knew we were over 300, but he never wanted to admit it.”

Just before the 1979 Rose Bowl, Muransky joined the Wolverines for the annual Lawry’s Beef Bowl, a pregame meal pitting Michigan against USC. That night, the freshman accomplished an athletic feat worthy of Babe Ruth — he ate 16 pounds of prime rib, a record that stands to this day.

“Two years later, we’re back at the Rose Bowl and Bo says to me, ‘We’re going to your favorite place,’” Muransky said. “I said, ‘Lawry’s?’ And he said, ‘Yeah, and your [butt] is sitting next to mine.’”

By his junior year, Muransky and Paris both weighed more than 300 and the Wolverines won the Rose Bowl. But when he reported for his senior season, Schembechler told him to come in at 287.

“The highest I played at was my senior year of college, which was about 320,” said Muransky, who estimated he’d weigh about 355 if he played today. “If Bo was still alive, I wouldn’t have told you that because he thought I was still under 300.”

By 1980, there were three 300-pounders in the NFL. (Officially, anyway.) Two years later, Muransky was drafted by the Raiders, the same season they hired their first strength and conditioning coach.

Over the next decade, as strength coaches became more common and the NFL became big business, players got bigger.

The 300-pound club jumped to 94 in 1990, 301 in 2000 and 394 in 2009.

Entering 2010 training camps, there were 532 players in the club.

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“I’ve found that prayers work best when you have big players.”

—Knute Rockne

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Not surprisingly, that size quickly trickled down to the college ranks.

The Penguins won the 1991 national championship with a line averaging 272, with zero 300-pounders on the two-deep chart. In fact, backup guard Raymond Miller weighed just 200 that season.

By contrast, YSU’s starting offensive line for the first seven games this season averaged 295, with two 300-pound starters — senior Bobby Coates (305) and sophomore tackle Andrew Radakovich (305) — and three more on the two-deep. The smallest player on the two-deep chart was true freshman guard Chris Elkins (270).

“I like guys to be as big as they can carry and still be able to move,” said Penguins offensive line coach Carmen Bricillo. “I call my guys everything in the book and fat is used a lot. They tell me that’s a curse word and I tell them it’s a term of endearment.

“They’ve got to be big.”

Ohio State’s starting offensive line this season averages 305, with three 300-pounders. The reason for that size goes back to physics, Bricillo said. Because lineman don’t have the opportunity to accelerate like, say, a fullback, they have to generate force another way.

“They’ve got to have mass,” Bricillo said.

Former YSU line coach Chris Bache liked his players to be a little lighter. (Longtime Broncos line coach Alex Gibbs is the most famous proponent of this approach, preferring quicker linemen for his outside zone scheme.)

After Bricillo was hired, Rechichar gained 10 pounds to 295. Coates added 15.

Neither complained.

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“I like bullying people. I like being big.”

— Rechichar

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Rechichar weighed about 285 when he came to YSU from Jeanette, Pa., which is only 10 pounds fewer than he weighs now. Coates, on the other hand, was 260 coming out of GlenOak.

Because linemen’s weight fluctuates during the season — usually downward — YSU’s staff is constantly monitoring their size.

If someone gets too light, they’re told to add weight. If someone looks heavy and sluggish, lose it.

“For most guys, 290 is a healthy weight,” said Bricillo. “The guys in the NFL who weigh 320 are superheroes. They’re 6-8 and all the weight is in their [butts], not their stomachs.

“The guys who can carry 310-315 and move like they need to, they’re few and far between, even at the BCS level.”

When recruiting, Bricillo looks for guys like Elkins, who was around 245-250 when recruited and, in two years, will probably be around 285-290.

“When a kid is already 285-290, you usually have to change his body composition,” Bricillo said. “But if you weigh 250 and add weight the right way, they come out big but they still move like they’re 250-260 because they added healthy weight.”

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“When you hang with a bunch of 300-pound linemen, you tend to find the places that are the greasiest and serve the most food.”

— Tom Brady

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There’s a flip side, of course, and it comes four or five years later. When Bricillo was an all-conference center at Duquesne, he was regularly eating — and then burning — 3,000 to 4,000 calories per day.

After graduating, Bricillo did a better job maintaining his former diet than the exercise regimen, eventually packing well over 300 pounds on sub 6-foot frame.

At 25, his weight — and his frustration — peaked.

“I made some changes,” he said.

Multiple studies have shown that NFL linemen are more likely be diagnosed with health issues such as high blood pressure, sleep apnea and a multitude of heart problems. One study cited by the Associated Press showed a sampling of collegiate offensive linemen averaged 27.4 percent body fat — the healthy range is 8 to 19 percent — and the extra weight, combined with the physical nature of the game, can wreak havoc on players’ bodies both during and after their playing careers.

Now in his mid-30s, Bricillo still looks like an ex-lineman but is much fitter than he was a decade ago. He knows he’ll never make the cover of Men’s Health but he doesn’t let a busy schedule or a slow metabolism keep him from trying.

“In coaching, it’s tough during the season to get a lot of opportunities, but my guys see me work out every day,” he said. “It’s a constant battle.

“As you get older, it gets harder.”

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“Being a lineman, I can eat pretty much whatever I want. I enjoy that part of it.”

— Coates

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After graduating from Kansas State, where he was a four-year starting guard, Eric Wolford got a training camp tryout with the Arizona Cardinals in 1994. He weighed 312 pounds — about 15 more than his ideal college weight — and ate a dozen egg whites every night before bed just to maintain it.

“When you consume that much protein every night, it becomes a chore,” he said. “I was eating six times a day.”

Wolford was cut by the Cardinals later that summer and lost some weight just by cutting back to a normal diet. Through regular workouts, he’s kept it off. (Mostly.) The first-year YSU head coach said he usually hovers between 240 and 250, although returning to Youngstown (and its bevy of Italian restaurants) has put him as high as 265.

When Wolford, a longtime line coach, holds his exit interviews with seniors he makes sure to talk them about having a plan to lose weight.

“I tell them, ‘It’s easier to lose weight now than it will be 10 years from now,’” he said. “It seems like once you get married, you gain 10. Then kids come and it’s another 5 or 10.”

Because linemen are generally the least athletic players on the field — Bricillo’s words, by the way — they often have the hardest time losing weight. But because it’s never come naturally, they’re often the most successful, Wolford said.

“Thing is, most linemen really do try,” Wolford said. “It’s the skill guys that usually balloon up. And I enjoy it because those are the guys that make fun of you in the locker room for being heavy.”

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“I don’t want a heart attack because I’m 400-something pounds. If I die, let it be something else, not something I can do something about.”

— Nate Newton

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Rechichar knows his ideal weight is closer to 235-40 and he’d like to get down to around 250 after this season. Coates is shooting for 260-270 — “Just to feel better on my joints and stuff,” he said — and Rodemoyer 240-245.

“My dad passed away from a heart attack; same thing with my uncle,” said Rodemoyer. “That’s always in the back of my head.”

After retiring from football in 1985, Muransky spent the next 25 years bouncing between 290 (when he was dieting) and 325 (when he wasn’t). Last year, just before his 50th birthday, he topped out at 340 and decided enough was enough.

“I was like, ‘This isn’t good for you,’” he said. “If you’re not 18 or 22 years old where it’s all muscle and you need it for the bulk, it’s a different world.

“I got it down to 275 and kept it there.”

When he was with the Raiders, Muransky and his fellow linemen often had to take laxatives or spend time in the steam room to drop extra pounds before their weigh-ins. The running backs would brag about needing to eat pizza just to make the minimum.

Now, it’s a different story.

“It’s so much fun to see all those skill guys now,” Muransky said. “It’s like God paying everybody back.”