[ UH WARRIOR FOOTBALL ]
Picking up A year ago, they were untouchable, the princes of the state.
the pieces
Last year's losing season and
the near death of coach June Jones
leave a team hungry to
recapture the magic of 1999See sports story: Falling into place
By Dave Reardon
dreardon@starbulletin.comIn one magical season, the Hawaii football team had evolved from the losing-est program in the nation into a band of champions.
They were led by the most popular figure in the islands. June Jones, college football's coach of the year, became the man who could be governor.
The former UH quarterback and assistant coach orchestrated the biggest turnaround since the Battle of Midway. He did it with stirring pre-game speeches, a crazy-cool fan-friendly offense called the run-and-shoot, and most of all, a bunch of players who were tired of losing.
Hawaii finished 9-4, winning a share of the Western Athletic Conference title and the Oahu Bowl.
Everyone from corporate and government leaders to folks in the unemployment line jumped aboard, trying to grab some of the magic.
But sometime between the final gun of the 23-17 victory over Oregon State and the end of last year's 3-9 season, it died.Jones nearly died as well, in a one-car accident on Feb. 22, 2001.
Suddenly, nobody cared about football and the lost magic. Jones' critical condition spoke infinitely more about mortality and reality than the Saturday night not-so-specials of the just-completed season.
For somber days, no one knew if Jones would ever again walk or talk ... or if he would live. Few ventured to guess if he would coach again.
But Jones survived, and he rehabbed and recovered. He publicly acknowledged his good fortune and thanked those who saved his life and those who prayed for him.
Then he went back to work.
Beginning tonight against Montana at Maui's War Memorial Stadium, the Warriors hope to regain the status and promise that was once theirs. But this season, they plan on using a foundation of sweat and wisdom rather than empty talk and old accolades.
"The year before, we kind of slacked off. We thought, 'We're WAC champs, and we could just roll into next year without working that hard,'" said senior slotback Craig Stutzmann, a team captain. "I think this year, we came into the summer with something to prove, that we're going to be out here to do what we've got to do and just lay it on the line."
Assistant coaches feel the same way.
"We want to show the people of Hawaii that we're a much better football team than what we showed last year," defensive coordinator Kevin Lempa said. "There was probably more talk last year, but these guys have worked hard to improve. We can see the physical results, and we can see it in the attitude."
Does Jones get a different feel from last September, considering all that has happened?
"Not really," he said. "I think we were ready to play last year. We just didn't get it done. Hopefully this year, we're good enough."
Some days after practice bring about such coach-speak. On others, Jones smiles at the sky and those around him. He talks of how beautiful the morning is; the words would ring trite from most, but not from this survivor of cement-on-metal-on-flesh.
When Jones directed practice shirtless on occasion during camp, maybe he really was trying to tan his scars, as he said. Or maybe he wanted his players to see them, to send a message about coming back from the worst of adversities.
Tim Chang, the Warrior player who works closest with Jones, doesn't care to speculate on that. But what happened to his coach and what happened to the team last fall have combined to change the sophomore quarterback's outlook.
"There were a lot of incidents off the field that occurred that we had no control over. You never know when things like that will happen," Chang said. "The best you can do is add it to your perspective. A lot of people want to be in our shoes, so I take every day of training seriously. When I do work hard and take it seriously, good things are going to happen."
The traditionalists say Hawaii's temporary mystique was erased when UH's nickname was changed from Rainbows to Warriors in the summer of 2000.
Some see receivers coach Ron Lee's heart attack days before the season opener as the turning point.
Others point toward the law of averages; everything went right in 1999, so why should anything fall UH's way in 2000?
Those into the greatest of intangibles blame a lack of on-field leadership.
The pragmatic cite clutch third-down catches replaced by drops and crunching tackles devolved into missed assignments.
Whatever the reasons for their demise of last fall, the Warriors hunger for the return of the magic. They say they're willing to work for it, harder than ever.
"This team reminds me a lot of the '99 team," said senior defensive tackle Mike Iosua, another captain. "People are coming together; everyone understands what it takes to win. We have that same drive as two years ago, so I'm looking forward to a good year."
The artists formerly known as Rainbows want to party like it's 1999. But they realize elation after deflation comes at a price, and they must be Warriors for the chance to pay it.
If they come up short, they will look at each other and their scarred leader and be grateful for the opportunity.
"You accept it that God has given you this football team to be a part of, and we're going to make the best we can out of it. Every day, we realize we're blessed to be here," Chang said. "I'm thankful that I'm here, I'm thankful the team is here, and I'm thankful coach Jones is here."
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