Sunday, December 16, 2007
Clothed in purple, Beaver shines
Aaron McFarling
Recent columns
The purple jersey covers up a lot.
A body that coach after coach deemed too small to play big-time college football. A tattoo on the right arm with the backstory that drives him. A cracked rib that only a select few insiders knew about.
All of that was shrouded when Justin Beaver was on the field. All we saw on Saturday night was football greatness, that purple No. 32 jersey cutting through the chilly rain at Salem Stadium, shifting to elude the linebackers, breaking free for a game-clinching, 60-yard run in the fourth quarter.
But it's what's underneath that jersey that made the 2007 Stagg Bowl special.
Justin Beaver didn't just run for 249 yards; he also served as the perfect symbol for 23 Wisconsin-Whitewater seniors who scoffed at the odds, an entire team that refused to accept that this couldn't be done.
The Warhawks upset Mount Union 31-21, and Beaver was the biggest reason it happened. The 5-foot-9, 200-pound senior would simply not go down.
He ran over people. He ran around people. And on the most significant play of the night -- a dive up the middle on 2nd-and-5 late in the fourth quarter -- he ran away from people, sprinting through the gap and then down the right sideline for a first down that crushed the last of Mount Union's hopes.
"If this is a dream, I don't want to wake up," Beaver said. "Just gotta keep sleeping forever, I guess."
He smiled.
"But I think by now we know it's not a dream," he said. "We did it."
They did it. And there weren't many rational people who thought they could.
The oddsmakers certainly didn't -- they set the betting line at Mount Union by 19. Anybody who's followed Division III football in recent years didn't -- Mount Union had won nine of the past 14 Stagg Bowl titles, including wins over the Warhawks the past two years.
But Justin Beaver believed, because he learned long ago that you have to believe to get anything done in life. His obstacles began immediately. He was born to teenage parents. He was sent to live with his grandparents when he was 3 months old. He moved back in with his parents off and on through middle school, but returned to his grandparents' after his father died suddenly following his junior year in high school.
That prompted Beaver to get the tattoo -- a cross, with the three letters scripted on it: DAD.
"I know that he's always by my side," Beaver said. "I know that he's always watching. Every time I point to the sky, I'm pointing to him and thanking him for everything. It's just an inspiration."
Like a lot of Division III players, Beaver is a football nut who didn't have the "measurables" to impress recruiters at the higher levels when he was playing at Palmyra-Eagle High School in Palmyra, Wis.
"I didn't have a lot of other options," Beaver said. "Too short, too slow, not big enough -- all those things."
But over his four years as a Warhawk, he blossomed. This year he rushed for more than 2,000 yards and won the Gagliardi Trophy, given to the nation's top Division III player.
Beaver finished his career with 6,584 rushing yards, but it was these 249 yards that mattered most to him. These 249 left no doubt.
After the game, when it was finally safe to do so, Warhawks coach Lance Leipold revealed a little secret they'd been keeping. Four weeks ago, Justin Beaver cracked a rib on his right side during a playoff game. He's been playing through it ever since.
Should we really be surprised?
The purple jersey covers up a lot. But Justin Beaver's determination had revealed itself long ago.
