'Invincible' an inspired ride

[bengaldee]

usatoday.com


Hollywood rarely provides reality, even in the realm of sports. Showbiz is in the imagination business, quite the reverse of pro football where flights of fancy are at a minimum. Fantasy and football almost never collide on the field. That is what makes the real-life story of Vince Papale so unreal, so inspirational and so unlikely ever to be repeated in today's high-tech NFL.
This week, I saw the movie Invincible, and if it doesn't tug at your heartstrings, well, you don't have a heart. It is full of raw emotion, stoicism and nostalgia, including '70s fashion sensibilities — namely, a little too much polyester and Dick Vermeil's white belt. The first time he saw the finished product, Papale said from Philadelphia, "I cried like a baby."

"I wasn't prepared for the last part where they showed me as a (real) player. Later, I slid in on a couple of screenings and got a lot of joy out of the reaction. Everyone found a piece of themselves in a scene or two."

Upon further review, I wondered about all the Vince Papales out there today — great athletes with even bigger hearts — longing with unrequited desire to suit up. And about coaches like Vermeil.

"If you have a dream and a passion," the retired 69-year-old coach said, "do whatever you can do to seek the opportunity to make it come true. I believe so much in that kind of athlete and that kind of attitude."

Papale, played by Mark Wahlberg, was the 30-year-old South Philly bartender and laid-off schoolteacher who did the improbable 30 years ago when he made the roster of Vermeil's Philadelphia Eagles. Papale was fast, tough and determined, playing special teams with a vengeance. He caught one pass in three seasons (Roman Gabriel's last completion in the NFL).

Teams no longer hold open tryout camps. There are roster limits. Teams also are concerned about signing players who have very little chance of making their roster, then get hurt and receive compensation.

Unless you've been identified through scouting, the NFL combine or by the ubiquitous Mel Kiper, you don't exist. The weeding-out process by experts is efficient and thorough because scouting, while not a science, is far more precise. Information is far more readily available. Right now, the New York Giants are considering receiver Michael Jennings, a 26-year-old who never played college football and has limited experience.

Some believe Vermeil held the open workout as a stunt to drum up support for the woeful Eagles, but he really was ripping a page out of George Allen's book. For years, the former Redskins coach invited everyone. Hundreds showed up and invariably failed (though there were a few notable exceptions who stuck in the league, including Otis Sistrunk and Herb Mul-Key).

In the movie, Vermeil meets with coaches to discuss whether to keep Papale; they vote no. That was "embellished," said Vermeil, who said that assistants Dick Coury and Ken Iman were in favor of Papale, who had played some minor league football in Philadelphia and brought something else to a troubled team.

"Why not Vince?" Vermeil said. "Kids like that are so naïve, so excited. It's refreshing. To this day, even college free agents that you sign have that air. They're just excited to be in the locker room. They appreciate all the little things that guys who are drafted higher or have been in the league for years don't care about."

Papale, a track star who graduated from St. Joe's in Philadelphia, played one year in high school. When he tried out for the Eagles, he was treated like a leper by many of his teammates, which included veterans who didn't care for the publicity he generated.

"I was the communicable disease that no one wanted to get near," he said. "I survived because of (teammate) Denny Franks. We were advocates for one another. And I survived, I think, because of what I got from my parents."

He did not have an ideal childhood, but like many fighters, he refused to let it swallow him whole. His father, Frank "Kingie" Papale, never got beyond the eighth grade. After working as a pig farmer, he toiled for Westinghouse in a factory. Frank was a frustrated former athlete who, when he wasn't walking the picket line during strikes, was helping his wife, Almira, cope with mental illness before her death.

"When I talk to kids, I say, 'When you watch this movie, don't see me — look at yourself,' " he said. "We've all had things to overcome. My parents were hard-working, second-generation immigrants who gave me an inner strength. I had reached the stage in my life where I was tired of being beaten down."

His resolve and tenacity make Invincible a story not so much about football, but one of endless hope for all.