JUST HAPPY TO HELP
Starting in the NFL after unlikely origins, Grasu embodies family spirit, fast learning
Were it not for football, he’d be back home, working at the family pizza place— the same one on Hollywood Boulevard where he spent his childhood bussing tables, filling sodas and, when he got older, working the cash register. Where he still jumps behind the counter today to help.
Hroniss Grasu didn’t grow up surrounded by football. His immigrant Romanian parents raised him on soccer, and he loved basketball. Rather, the restaurant business— at Greco’s, which is near late-night clubs and stays open accordingly— prepared him for the offensive line.
He learned, from his late grandpa and parents and aunts and uncles, the value of helping others.
And if that’s not a lineman’s life, what is?
‘‘Always serving others,’’ he said, ‘‘before you serve yourself.’’
Dave Magazu knew this day would come, though maybe not this soon.
‘‘He got so much work in camp that it was scary,’’ the Bears’ offensive line coach told the Sun-Times. ‘‘And he not once complained. I was waiting for him to say, ‘Hey, Coach, I’m dying,’ but all those reps were important at
the time. We knew he had a chance to be the next guy up.’’
That happened when starter Will-Montgomery broke his leg in the first quarter against the Oakland Raiders. Guard Matt Slauson slid over to center for the rest of the game, but Magazu said the plan was always to have Grasu play center the next week.
Grasu was in a funk after the Raiders game— not thinking about his opportunity but about the season being over for Montgomery, a 10-year veteran.
‘‘People have this preconceived notion about NFL players that they’re selfish and money-hungry,’’ said tackle Kyle Long, Grasu’s former Oregon teammate and one of his best friends. ‘‘Hroniss is the antithesis of that. He’s everything that’s wholesome and humble and hard-working.’’
The Bears liked Grasu’s college skills—‘‘He was closer to being ready to play than a lot of other guys,’’ Magazu said— and have helped him gain 10 pounds as a pro.
He made the line calls Sunday, but with the help of Slauson, who signaled him to snap on the silent count.
‘‘The next step for him is taking control of that group and, whenever he makes a call, being sure of it,’’ quarterback Jay Cutler said. ‘‘But he’s going to be great. We’re looking for big things from him.’’
Magazu said he has slept easier as the former Ducks captain has improved.
‘‘His hands have gotten extremely good,’’ Long said. ‘‘You get tired of getting run over, and you get your hands on the guy that’s trying to run you over. That’s something we’ve been pounding away at him since the beginning, and he’s gotten better and better at it.’’
Hroniss wouldn’t have played football had his brother not lied to their parents.
Nico Grasu was a junior at Crespi Carmelite High School, a soccer player with an affinity for the weight room, when he decided, after a coach’s urging, he wanted to play football. His parents said no. They thought he’d get hurt.
Nico saved his birthday money to pay for football registration himself. He had a driver’s license and came home late after school, which wasn’t unusual; the boys were always playing some sport.
When the first game came, he had to come clean.
‘‘They came out for the first game, and they fell in love with everything,’’ said Nico, who would get a scholarship as Washington State’s kicker. ‘‘They fell in love with the atmosphere.’’
Hroniss, in eighth grade, was hooked, too, after Crespi won California’s Southern Section title. He wanted to play. His parents were still worried, so as a freshman he told them he’d try kicking— and maybe other positions.
Not raised on football, he didn’t know how to get in a three-point stance and said he had no idea what to do before starting as a junior-varsity left tackle as a freshman.
A year later, he was the varsity’s starting center.
Grasu’s life, it seems, is full of those moments. His first college game came against LSU at Cowboys Stadium. His first pro appearance last week was at Arrowhead Stadium, maybe the NFL’s most raucous— including the 14 Grasu family members cheering for the Bears rookie.
‘‘I get a lot of hugs and kisses,’’ Long said. ‘‘They’re very passionate, affectionate people, loving people. They’re almost like an extension of my family.’’
Grasu idolizes his parents, who have worked together every day since they were married, and calls Nico his role model.
‘‘I probably wouldn’t be playing if not for him,’’ Grasu said. ‘‘It’s crazy. He probably won’t admit it, but I don’t know what would have happened otherwise.’’
After attending the Raiders game, Nico extended his Chicago stay to drive to his brother’s first start. He’ll drive again, to Detroit, before flying home to the family business.
He was amazed how calm Hroniss was before his debut.
‘‘You could tell he was prepared and ready to go,’’ he said.
Grasu reminds Magazu of Ryan Kalil, the four-time Pro Bowl center he coached with the Carolina Panthers.
‘‘I thought how he answered the bell was really impressive for the first time out,’’ Magazu said. ‘‘I think he’s just going to be better for every game.’’
Grasu is happy to contribute. As a rookie, he’s tasked with bringing bagels to Saturday line meetings. He says it’s fun. It probably reminds him of home.
‘‘I think I’d do that even when I’m older,’’ he said. ‘‘I love helping the guys out.’’
“People have this preconceived notion about NFL players that they’re selfish and money-hungry. Hroniss is the antithesis of that. He’s everything that’s wholesome and humble and hard-working.”
Tackle Kyle Long, Grasu’s former Oregon teammate and one of his best friends