Owls’ offensive line feasts on more than Coach V’s wit
Weekly dining ritual provides players a chance to bond as unit
Dinner with Rice’s offensive line means two tables covered with meatloaf, rotisserie chicken, chicken fried chicken, chicken fried steak, burgers, milkshakes and french fries at Mia’s Table off Argonne Street.
The get-together is more than just massive amounts of food shared among a group of teammates.
At the Thursday night feasts, the linemen tell stories, make jokes and quote offensive line coach Ronnie Vinklarek.
In the midst of preparing for another tough Conference USA contest — Friday’s game at UTEP — the hungry line took a moment to focus on the little things, like how to get the food exactly the way the players ordered it.
“How you do anything is how you do everything,” they say, quoting Vinklarek.
“Improvise. Act. And overcome,” they say when an order of food comes out wrong.
“Our leader Reue will speak now,” they joke when asked about sticking together through position changes and injuries, losing center Spencer Stanley to concussions.
“Well, we’ve made a point to always get dinner,” Andrew Reue said. “We do stuff together so we bond.”
‘Young and hungry’
An offensive line that eats together, stays together, plays together and blocks to become the second-best rushing offense in the conference.
The linemen hold each other accountable. Nobody takes anything personal. When Reue, one of the team captains and a senior, switched from right guard to center with sophomore Trey Martin, neither was upset with the other for taking their position away. They grew as brothers in the trenches. They even developed a personality.
“We want to be the nastiest, smartest, hardest-working o-line in the conference,” senior right tackle Caleb Williams said.
Added left tackle Calvin Anderson: “I’d say nasty is our identity.”
“We’re young and hungry,” left guard Peter Godber said.
At that, the teammates oohed and aahed together and started high-fiving Godber.
They, like every unit on Rice’s team, have dealt with youth and inexperience. Plus, they’re linemen. They’re always hungry, for a pancake on the field or on their plate.
“We like to be an offensive line that defensive lines don’t like to play,” Reue said. “We like to let them know that we’re going to be here and get in their grills. What does Coach V always say?”
“Play through the echo of the whistle,” Williams said.
Added Martin: “Play to a level that the opponent is unable or unwilling to match.”
It’s hard, though, to not overlook the fact that the offense has allowed 26 sacks this season. The mental errors bother them.
Vinklarek points them out in game film.
“You can watch the same movie 20 times and not get tired of it,” he’ll say when he sees them make the same mistake or get beat at the line.
V-isms in unison
The dinner table at Mia’s starts laughing and then they’re on a roll, spouting off what they call V-isms. At one point this season, Reue had 10 pages of them in his binder, but they were accidentally thrown away.
“If you’re not embarrassed, you’re missing out on great opportunities,” they say.
“I can hear what you’re saying, but I see what you’re doing,” they say.
They laugh. They take the last remaining bites of their meals. Then just like that, the V-isms end and they turn more serious.
Kickoff is one hour closer and this game is a mustwin. They get up from their chairs, partially full. They grab one last bite of soft-serve ice cream. Then 1,440 pounds of Rice’s offense lumbers out of the door and into the night.