In NCAA D-III, it’s all about the football


Dave Jablonski

College

SPRINGFIELD — Ten years ago, I knew nothing about NCAA Division III football. To me, D3 was the combination of buttons you pressed to get a Snickers out of the vending machine on the second floor of the News-Sun.

I took over the Wittenberg football beat when I arrived at the paper in 2001 from Ron Ware, the longtime beat writer. His mountains of handwritten play-by-play records from the days before iPad scoring apps still fill a filing cabinet at the paper.

Ten years later, I’m entering Ware territory, having witnessed 82 victories in 10 seasons, or about 12 percent of the games won in the history of the program. Wittenberg can become the first team in Division III history to win 700 games when it opens the 2011 season against Capital at 7 p.m. Saturday, and I’ll be down on the sideline at Edwards-Maurer Field as usual.

Division III football is an acquired taste. If major college football is the summer blockbuster, something you share with the masses, Division III football is an independent film fighting for respect. In some ways, it’s a better product.

• There’s a playoff system in Division III football. Two teams, Wisconsin-Whitewater and Mount Union, have met in the championship game the last six years, robbing December of much of its drama, but at least everyone has a chance.

• You’ll never see a headline about tattoos and out-of-control boosters in D-III football. This year, especially, with Ohio State and Oregon and the University of Miami dominating the news for all the wrong reasons, that’s a major difference.

Division III players don’t expect to be paid. They just want to play.

• Because it’s smaller in every way, D-III football is more personal. How many D-I programs have a dad working as the public address announcer while his son plays wide receiver? That’s the case at Wittenberg, where two Michael Coopers do their thing on Saturdays.

Sure, on the whole, D-III players are smaller and slower than athletes in D-I. That doesn’t mean they can’t make the acrobatic catch or the jarring hit.

One of the most fun players to watch in my first 10 years covering the Tigers was linebacker Brad McKinley, who if you believe Wittenberg’s roster, grew from 5-foot-8 to 5-foot-10 as a senior last year. He was the prototypical D-III player: too small for D-I, but just as talented as anyone at the higher levels. No one wanted it more than McKinley. He played with passion — sometimes too much if you were to ask opposing teams — and because he started for four years, it’ll be hard to imagine the Tigers without him this season.

But I’ve gotten used to that over the last 10 years. The faces change. The game remains the same. It’s not big-time football, but it’s just as good if you’re there and you care.

Contact this reporter at (937) 328-0351 or djablonski@coxohio.com.

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