The hero next door: after four years of watching Nebraska quarterback Eric Crouch up close, it's clear he's more `Everyman' than `Superman'

Sporting News, The, Dec 24, 2001 by Tom Shatel

From the top of the South Stadium bleachers, to the corner bars in blue-collar Omaha with the "Go Big Red" signs in the window, to the ranches out west and everywhere else where they worship Nebraska football, there is a nickname for Huskers quarterback Eric Crouch.

Superman.

You know what? It's probably right on. No one ever has meant as much to Nebraska football, or done more surrounded by less, or pulled the Huskers off more ledges than Crouch. Superman has been known to move a skyscraper or two. Crouch has carried his team to the Rose Bowl, and though there certainly are those who would argue the BCS computers had a hand in getting the Huskers there, Crouch did all the heavy lifting.

But as he prepares to ride off into the sunset on January 3, I prefer to remember Crouch by another name--a less pretentious moniker but one that fits just as well.

Everyman.

These kids come into our lives, our sports pages, for four years or so, and by the time they leave as men, we usually choose to remember them for the big things--the great moments they have etched into our memories. But when I think of Crouch years from now, it will be for all the little things--the unassuming, regular-guy things he did during a career in the red-hot spotlight.

If Crouch was Superman on Saturdays, he played a pretty nifty Clark Kent on the other days of the week.

I remember the first time I interviewed his mother, Susan, a hard-working nurse in Omaha who raised Eric by herself. She gushed on and on about how Eric was a huge John Elway fan and how he cried after one of the Broncos' horrible Super Bowl losses. When approached later to verify this story, Crouch turned Husker red, looked down and said, "Nah, I don't know about that."

I'll remember Crouch for his Tuesday talks. Every Tuesday during the season, Nebraska coaches and players traipse up to the press box at Memorial Stadium to discuss such scintillating topics as the Iowa State defense and how the Nebraska backup tight end is blocking down on goal-line situations.

Truth be told, writers and players alike would love to skip a week or two. But guess who was asked to attend every week? And guess who showed up every week?

Crouch sat there each Tuesday and answered every mundane question and request. And the amazing thing was, he never acted like he was doing his taxes. Crouch wanted to be there. He enjoyed just hanging out, talking to us real working stiffs about the game, the Heisman, the weather, September 11--the real world.

The best part about Crouch's attendance and behavior on Tuesdays was that it revealed a slice of the passion for the game that we always saw from afar on Saturdays.

Crouch loves everything about football--from the chess games to the bloody practices to sitting around chewing the fat about the BCS. As a senior, he didn't want to miss a thing. Isn't that how we would do it?

There are those who say Crouch is perfect. Too perfect. During the last several weeks, Crouch has sounded almost programmed in his speech and delivery. Was it all just scripted? Does he walk around with a teleprompter? Heck no, but if you had done a thousand interviews in the last month, wouldn't you know the questions and answers by heart?

Perfect? This is the lad who on Labor Day 1999 took a little ride back to Omaha. Crouch had taken most of the quarterback snaps in 1998 while Bobby Newcombe nursed an injury. But Newcombe regained the job before the 1999 season--even as Crouch and others thought it was Crouch who had won the starting role in preseason drills. Crouch was sunk, so he took off and headed for the place where his best friends and mentors were: his old high school, Omaha's Millard North.

Rumors were rampant that Crouch had quit the team and might transfer to Ohio State, where he had made a recruiting visit. Nebraska coach Frank Solich had to make a special trip to Omaha to talk to Crouch and reassure him of his place on the team.

Crouch returned to Lincoln, got back on the field and into the end zone as a receiver and eventually won the quarterback job for good. But to this day, there are Huskers fans who always will see Crouch as a baby who threatened to quit to get his way. Crouch says that never was the case. Whatever. Sometimes a guy just needs to get away.

Clark Kent, after all, is only human.

Crouch never has shied from showing us that side of himself. It was on full display shortly after hearing his name called as the winner of the Heisman Trophy when he fumbled his acceptance speech.

He didn't say a word about his coaches or teammates. Not even an academic counselor or the guy who puts the "N" on the helmets. But nobody seemed to mind. Crouch has been billed as the ultimate team player, and they already had been thanked publicly by him some 50,000 rimes.

"After I got done, right away I thought, `Oh, gosh, I forgot to thank the guys on the team,'" Crouch says. "But I think they know the rest of the time that I was thanking them for everything. Only 66 people (former Heisman winners) really understand what goes on at a moment like that.