Devlin has UT O-line perking
Mike Devlin coaches football the same way he played it - face first, no-holds-barred, damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead.
That's why he has a couple fresh stitches inside what is a swollen upper lip. His mouth came in contact with a helmet during the University of Toledo's practice on Tuesday afternoon.
That he wasn't wearing one, too, was of no consideration.
It's the attitude that led, in 1992, to an offensive lineman standing no taller than 6-2, a guy at Iowa named Mike Devlin, earning All-America honors while finishing as the Big Ten's lineman of the year and as a semifinalist for the Outland Trophy that goes annually to the nation's top interior lineman.
It is how the same guy lasted for seven years in the National Football League, playing in two AFC championship games and one Super Bowl. That was Mike Devlin, too.
It is how a guy with no previous college coaching experience, who had never single-handedly coached an offensive line, gets hired to do just that at UT.
And it's a big reason why his current offensive line, stout but young, is clearing turf for the 15th-best rushing attack in the nation - 219.2 yards per game - while allowing five opponents just seven quarterback sacks.
"They work hard, very hard," the 35-year-old Devlin said of his linemen. "You know, there's a misnomer about O-linemen. People think you have to have five first-round draft picks to be great. All you really need is five good players to play together as one, to believe, to play with heart and passion."
After all, it's how their coach coaches.
Some might have been surprised he got the chance.
Devlin wasn't exactly a rookie. After he had "been retired," as he puts it, by his last NFL team, the Arizona Cardinals, he stayed on as an assistant offensive line and offensive quality control coach for four years. To equate it to college terms, he was a notch above a graduate assistant.
"There was a little risk, I guess, in hiring Mike," said UT head coach Tom Amstutz. "He'd never had his own line. He'd never coached in college. He was a mystery. But he intrigued me. I sensed he would coach the same way he played, with hard work and toughness. Of course, it didn't hurt he had some legendary coaching in his blood."
The legend was
John Devlin, who spent 40 years as an assistant coach and defensive coordinator at seven big-time college programs - Virginia Tech, Florida State and Maryland, to name a few - and with the
NFL's Houston Oilers before settling late in his career at Bloomsburg State University in Pennsylvania. The elder Devlin passed away in the late 1990s.
"My dad was the type of guy who'd make you feel like you could go through a brick wall," Devlin said. "You couldn't, of course, but you'd be willing to try. He had a tremendous ability to communicate. I remember there were times when I'd have a terrible game, then I'd sit down and watch film with him. He had a way of lifting a kid's spirits. You came away feeling you weren't that bad."
And, of course, the younger Devlin wasn't. Not at Iowa, where he - an offensive lineman, for goodness sakes - was named the Big Ten's MVP by the Chicago Tribune. Not with the Buffalo Bills, where he played in Super Bowl XXVII against the victorious Dallas Cowboys. Not during four seasons in the desert with the Cardinals. And, finally, not as a coach.
"I think there are issues anytime a college is considering hiring a pro guy," Devlin said. "The biggest is, can he teach? In the pros, players come somewhat fine-tuned with a good base. So the question was whether I could come here and coach a guy from scratch.
"The other big concern, of course, is recruiting. Stutz sat down and gave me his principles, told me about his style. I hope someday I can do what he does:pretty much look at someone and know. He has an uncanny knack of guessing right on kids."
And assistant coaches.
Devlin said UT's linemen know about his background.
"They sniff it out," he said. "But if I ever talk about it, they fine me. You can't live in the past, you know."
But the subject of the NFL does come up, especially with last year's Toledo O-line star, Nick Kaczur, now playing regularly for the New England Patriots.
"I talk about how he got there and what NFL teams are looking for," Devlin said. "But my No. 1 tip is that they can't think about it. They just have to play every day with unbelievable pace and passion and let the chips fall as they may. At the end of the day, you have to look in the mirror and know you laid it all on the line on the field, in class, and in life. Then you thank the good Lord you had the chance."
Devlin's background is chronicled in the UT media guide, so it wasn't all that difficult for his linemen to digest his past.
But here's something they might not know.
When Devlin was drafted in the fifth round in the spring of 1993, he left Iowa at 294 pounds. During his NFL career, he peaked at about 320 pounds.
After leaving the playing field, he vowed he would never again step on a scale. Two years later, though, he forced himself. The number was 415.
"It was a fun trip getting there," he said, chuckling. "But I had three little kids and I looked at them one day and realized I didn't want to die on them. You know, there are studies that say NFL linemen have shorter life spans to begin with. I was morbidly obese. I had no energy. I had no quality of life. I felt I had to do something drastic and I had to do it quickly."
So Devlin had gastric bypass surgery. He didn't tell his wife, Julie, until just one week before it was scheduled. And she was about the only person he told. It was done in the offseason on a Wednesday and he was back at work the following Monday.
"I lost 100 pounds in the first month and everybody thought I was sick, so I had to tell people I'd had it done," Devlin said. "It saved my life."
Devlin weighs about 250 these days and feels better than ever, which is why he was the first man in on Tuesday when tempers flared and a little scuffle broke out among UT players getting ready for Saturday at Ball State.
"The back of somebody's helmet got me," he said. "I'll live."
Face first, always, right into that brick wall.
"It's the only way I know," Devlin said.