The battle within the battle

Sporting News, The, Dec 6, 1993 by Terry Frei

For eight years now, Richard Dent and Ken Ruettgers have been going head to head. It's a classic right end-left tackle matchup, one of the crucial one-on-one struggles that often decide NFL games. Although Dent and Ruettgers know each other intimately as competitors, they remain at arm's length personally. And that's not likely to change, especially considering the Packers-Bears rivalry. As they prepare for their second battle within the battle Sunday in Chicago, we take you inside their first duel of '93.

Whoa, Richard Dent says as Chicago's defensive linemen watch tape in Halas Hall. Go back to that, the Bears' end says. Something - a stance, a step, a response - has piqued Dent's interest. So Dent checks out Green Bay's No. 75. Again.

At the Packers' complex at Lambeau Field, Ken Ruettgers arrives before the rest of the Green Bay offensive line, even before the secretaries. The Packers' left tackle - No. 75 - grabs tape of a Chicago game. Ruettgers sits down, alone, for another look at Dent. By now, this is all refresher work.

Since 1986, when Ruettgers became a starter in his second year, he and Dent have gone head to head within the NFL's most deep-rooted rivalry. They've met twice a season except for 1991, when an injured Ruettgers missed both games against the Bears. The Bears and Packers play again Sunday at Soldier Field.

"I had barely gotten off the plane and all I heard was, |You gotta watch out for Richard Dent because he's tearing the league up,'" says Ruettgers, a 1985 first-round draft choice from Southern California, at the Packers' complex. "He was a terror. And he still is, because he's playing great ball this year."

On Sunday morning, Ruettgers and Dent ritually put on the pads, gloves and tape. In those quiet pregame moments, the synthetic uniform pants will seem too tight over the thigh pads. The adhesive tape will have that just-unrolled smell. And before they go on the field, Ruettgers and Dent will be thinking about each other. Again.

Dent will be preparing to attack with the passion and cunning that, together with his tremendous quickness and arm strength, have helped make him one of the best pass rushers in NFL history. He won't direct all of his hostility at Ruettgers, who is 6 feet 6, 290 pounds. Ruettgers is not Dent's prey, only the huge obstacle.

Ruettgers is one of the best in the pass-protecting business at striking first with his hands, then keeping his balance and reacting. He will know that he can't lock in on Dent and neglect the intricacies of offensive-line play. For example: If Dent loops inside of Bears defensive tackle Chris Zorich, and/or a line-backer blitzes from that side, what then? Ruettgers must adjust in an insta...

Too late. An instant can be too long. An instant of indecision by Ruettgers can get the quarterback hammered - if not by the 6-foot-5, 265-pound Dent, then someone else.

For all the supplemental concerns, Dent and Ruettgers know they will line up so close on most plays, they could try to blind each other with their breath vapor. After most snaps, they collide amid the guttural cacophony and pad-popping. Their arms become intertwined, perhaps so much so that Dent again will grouse to Ruettgers and the officials that the confrontation has become too much mano a mano.

Dent and Ruettgers will have been thinking about that, and about their past meetings, all week. Never mind the exact math: Dent, who turns 33 December 13, and Ruettgers, 31, have met with tons of force and fury over the years.

"Sometimes when we meet, he wins," Ruettgers says. "Sometimes, I win. I might look at it that I win more and he may look at it that he wins more, and we both might be right."

That makes perfect sense because in football, the head-to-head matchups never are as simple as in boxing.

Ruettgers vs. Dent. "I feel I've gotten the best of it so far," Dent says. "But every year's a new year. Every game's a new game, and you've got to go out and do it again. There's no time to brag."

Dent is talking in the Bears' locker room at Halas Hall, in Lake Forest, Ill., the affluent setting for John Hughes-directed films and for the more intense "Ordinary People." Lake Forest is a suburb of wrought-iron gates, circular driveways and executive commuters who work in The Loop but live near the train line to the north.

From the second Dent enters Halas Hall, then through the meetings, through lunch, through practice, and then even at home later, he often is thinking of the man who again will be blocking him on Sunday. Ken Ruettgers.

Ruettgers, who owns a home in his native Bakersfield, Calif., has hunting gear in the trunk and papers strewn on the seat as he makes the short trip to the Packers' offices from his family's rented duplex. Green Bay, the remnant of a far different NFL, has grown on him. Now that Ken and Sheryl Ruettgers' son, Matthew, 5, is beginning school, and Ruettgers is working under a new four-year, $8-million contract, the family plans to stay in Green Bay in the offseason.

From the second Ruettgers enters the team administration building at Lambeau Field, then through the meetings, through lunch, through practice and then even at home later, Ruettgers often is thinking of the man who again will be trying to fight past him on Sunday. Richard Dent.