the perfectionist quarterback
When he looks in the mirror every morning, the predawn darkness falling outside the windows of his lakeside home, he sees not a head coach or a defensive mastermind; he sees a quarterback.
It has always been this way with Nick Saban. His father began grooming Saban to be a quarterback when he was 11. That was when Big Nick, as he was known in rural West Virginia, formed the Idamay Black Diamonds, a Pop Warner team for kids in four nearby towns. The father bought every book he could find on coaching football and studied the game as though he was cramming for an exam.
Little Nick worked at his dad’s gas station in tiny Helens Run. Father and son threw a football to each other in front of the gas pumps until a car pulled off Route 19 and into the station. Young Saban did everything at the station, from checking tire pressures to grease jobs to replacing oil.
Big Nick demanded perfection, a trait he passed onto his son like a family heirloom. "The biggest thing I started to learn at 11 years old was how important it was to do things correctly," Saban said years later. "There was a standard of excellence, a perfection. If we washed a car I hated the navy blue and black cars because when you wiped them off, the streaks were hard to get out and if there were any streaks when [my father] came, you had to do it over."
The lesson applied to football, too. In the Saban’s world, there is only one way to do things the correct way. This is a black and white world, with no shades of gray. Here there are no short cuts.
Saban became the starting quarterback for the Idamay Black Diamonds, which was named for the coal mining towns in the area. Big Nick was as tough on his son as any other player. If young Nick, who called his own plays, fired off a touchdown pass, his father normally had a critique: the ball didn’t travel in a perfect spiral or Little Nick failed to move the safety with his eyes before winding up and uncorking the throw. Many of the phrases his father repeatedly counseled Invest your time, don’t spend it remain in Saban’s vernacular today.
At age 15, Saban was named the starting quarterback at Monongah High. Many evenings he and father would break out the projector and watch eight millimeter film of his high school games,
mizuno mp 64, the father constantly pointing out what Nick could do better. The son listened intently. The one on one tutorials,
odyssey putters, which often lasted deep into the night as the two sat in front of the flickering black and white images, transformed Saban into one of the top high school players in the state. He wasn’t particularly big or fast or strong; but he already had a coach’s mind.
Later that fall Saban and Monongah traveled to Masontown for an important game. The winner would advance to the state playoffs; the loser’s season would be over. At halftime Monongah trailed 18 0. As young Saban walked to the locker room, he could almost hear his dad whispering in his ear,
scotty cameron putters, No matter what the circumstances, never stop fighting.
Nick didn’t stop fighting, of course. The score was 18 12 when Monongah got the ball with 1:30 left in the game. Saban moved his team down the field. With 30 seconds left and facing a fourth and 12 on the 20 yard line, Monongah coach Earl Kenner called a timeout. Saban ran to the sideline, relieved that the burden of calling the play would no longer be on his shoulders.
"Coach, what do you want to run here?" he asked.
"I tell you what," Kenner replied. "You have a three time all state split end, and the left halfback is the fastest guy in the state. I don’t care what play you call, just more sure of those two gets the ball."
The decision, and the game, had been placed in Nick’s hands. He called 26 crossfire pass. The ball was snapped and Saban faked a handoff to his left halfback. He unleashed a tight spiral to his split end in the corner of the end zone for a touchdown and a 19 18 Monongah victory.
Afterward Kenner approached his quarterback. "It really doesn’t make any difference what play you call sometimes. It’s what players you have doing it." Those words stuck with Saban and now serve as the first commandment in his coaching bible. The quarterback, to Saban, doesn’t need an All American arm; he needs to simply and safely distribute the ball to the players you have doing it. Saban’s quarterback must be like Saban the quarterback: heady,
callaway x2 hot, mistake averse and, most of all, prepared.
On Saturday in Alabama’s 42 21 win over Florida, fifth year senior Blake Sims was the quintessential Saban quarterback. Yes, he threw one interception and fumbled once, but he consistently read the Florida defense like he’d been in the defensive huddle with the Gators. He completed 22 of 33 for four touchdowns and 445 yards, the most a quarterback has passed for in the Saban era at Alabama and the second most in school history (Scott Hunter threw for 484 yards in 1969).
So let the record reflect that the debate over whether or not Sims or Jake Coker should be the long term starter for the Tide is officially over. Sims won the crowd the Messiah’s welcome that Bryant Denny Stadium thundered when Sims ran onto the field after a quick trip to the locker room late in the third quarter illustrated that and he has won over his coach.
"When Blake takes what the defense gives, he’s instinctive and he makes good plays and decisions," Saban said. " One hand on the ball [and] fumbling the ball that kind of stuff we have got to get corrected. He made a couple of nice plays scrambling today,
mizuno mp 54, which is going to be a real asset for him. People have to respect him as a passer. He has made too many plays and too many good throws for people to not respect him as a passer."