Teammates relish the full-contact game
June 5, 2003
EV1

Simonds has worked for years in a male-dominated field. She owns her own contracting company and says that at first her male counterparts thought she was a cleaning lady coming to tidy up building sites - not to orchestrate construction.

"After they see you doing it, then it's OK," she says.

Simonds is optimistic that one day women's football will be treated with the respect it deserves.

But for now, she, Verbeck and the rest will do what it takes to play a game they've long been denied.

Goin' to Kansas City

Sitting alone in the middle of the bus is defensive end Michelle Marcus, 28, of St. Louis. Bespectacled and bookish, the computer programmer with Maritz Inc. stands all of 5 feet tall.

A Mylar balloon floats nearby. Marcus' "Slam Mate" gave it to her with some energy bars and a key chain that says, "Don't mess with Marcus."

Each game day, players are paired with a new Slam Mate who cheers them on and brings them goodies. A lot of the players already knew each other from playing on local flag football teams. Some are rivals. Slam Mates was set up to break down those rivalries and to introduce players.

Marcus jokes that the balloon helps her teammates keep track of her in large crowds.

When she told her family she was trying out for a full-contact football team, they were skeptical.

"They kind of find it amusing," Marcus says. "Because of my size, I'm not going to dominate anyone. But they are very proud of me."

Playing has been harder than Marcus - and the others - had anticipated.

First, there's the beating she takes during practice and games. In addition to crushing blows and being trampled with cleats, Marcus has had her share of scratches and gashes from long fingernails.

"You also have to be thinking at all times - 'What am I supposed to do and where am I supposed to be on this play?'" Marcus says. "I have never had to think so much and in such a short amount of time. You really have to get the physical part down so you can focus on the mental part of the game. That's why I'm disadvantaged, starting this at 28. You really need to start playing football at 14 as a freshman."

Part of the reason Marcus made the team was she showed up for all of the tryouts, Simonds says.

"It was her heart and drive, and I believe a lot of heart can overcome physical inabilities or physical size," Simonds says. "And she doesn't whine and bitch and moan because she doesn't get to play. She knows other people are better than her, so she waits for her chance."

Marcus' braininess doesn't hurt either. She steps in on both offense and defense and has memorized everything in the playbook, just in case she gets some field time.

"She's come in especially handy where we've had injured people," Simonds says. "She's stepped in and made tackles and held the ball for the kicker, which is not an easy thing to do."

Marcus, who didn't know a soul on the Slam when preseason practice began, now hurls good-natured barbs at some of her teammates, especially at the boisterous duo of Kelly "Koz" Kozlen and Leanna "Rudy" Heritage. The two St. Louis elementary school teachers have a penchant for crude jokes and
colorful school-spun tales.

"You'll have to excuse Koz," Marcus says after the delivery of one particularly raunchy quip. "We don't know where we picked her up."

At the movies

The players quiet down when "Remember the Titans" starts at 9:45 a.m. The movie, starring Denzel Washington, takes place during the 1960s and is about the bonding of black and white football players at a recently desegregated high school. The team always watches movies about football on the bus during trips. It pumps them up and helps pass time.

Several Slam players, including Koz and Marcus, wipe tears from their eyes when the team captain in the film is paralyzed in a car accident.

Afterward, each player pitches in $2 to cover a tip for the bus driver and the waitresses at Old Country Buffet, where they stop for lunch - the main meal of the day.

Then it's off to register at the Drury Inn, where the team will spend the night. After dropping their bags there, the team reboards the bus for the stadium at J. C. Harmon High School on the Kansas side of Kansas City. It's 4:20 p.m..

Road games mean a lot less worry and scurry for Simonds, who can focus all of her attention on coaching. As owner and general manager, she has to fret over things like running out of nacho cheese during halftime when the Slam plays its home games at Gateway Technical Institute High School in south St. Louis. That actually happened during the team's first home game at Gateway Tech, when 800 spectators showed up, she says.

The team runs through an hour or so of warm-up drills at J.C. Harmon before going into the locker room to gear up for the 7:05 game.

Several players remove jewelry and tape up piercings in their eyebrows, lips, even a nipple or two, before putting on their pads.

"If someone was smart, they would make this with a breast pad," says defensive back Vanessa Hollinshed, adjusting the straps of her shoulder pads that ride above her breasts.

To play full-contact football, you have to be tough - and these women are. They play with the ferocity of a pack of hungry hyenas at a barbecue. But that doesn't mean they don't have the sensibilities of ladies. Several complain about the shabby condition of the locker room. One toilet and a long urinal stand behind a wall with no door. The showers are nothing more than about a dozen gangly spigots sprouting from one large, tiled room.

Marcus always brings a roll of paper towels and some anti-bacterial hand sanitizer for anyone who wants them.

Simonds, who has a dry sense of humor and low-key demeanor, seems eternally amused by the contrasts between her players' on-field and off-field personas.

For instance, when she asked whether they wanted black or white football pants, they chose black because it's slimming and doesn't show stains. Once, several of them came to her seeking a hair dryer so they could
restyle a teammate's hair.

Recently, though, they asked whether Simonds could be a little more demonstrative in the locker room before games - you know, yell and bang on lockers or something. So she did and busted a blood vessel in a pinky finger.

On this night, the lockers are banging and rattling loud enough to rouse Knute Rockne from his grave.

"OK, we have played these guys twice, and we have outplayed them both times, but they walked away with the W," Simonds tells her players.

The Slam, she says, will win tonight, because they can and because they deserve it.

Several times throughout the day, she reminded her players to know the plays forward and backward. She reminds them again now.

And then they take the field.

Tackling the subject

Quarterback Jessie Van Apeldoorn, 25, wears a wristband with a clear plastic pocket. Tucked inside is a list of all the plays she needs to know.

Van Apeldoorn, a computer teacher at Green Trails Elementary School in Chesterfield, is unassuming with a coy giggle, porcelain skin and short spiky blond hair. Several of her fellow teachers show up at home games in matching T-shirts with letters spelling J-E-S-S-I-E.

Van Apeldoorn had a steep learning curve when she joined the team. She had played other sports competitively in college, but never football. She knew only the bare basics but was sketchy on the finer points of the game.

Nevertheless, the teacher loves learning, and that's what she's done for the past seven months - learn play patterns, how to throw and all the quirks and tendencies of her teammates.

"She's an extremely coachable person," Simonds says. "Women don't have to unlearn bad habits, because they don't have bad habits. That's the best part about it."

Simonds says that if you watch NFL tape, like the team did on the bus ride to Kansas City, the players are all tackling high, which you're not supposed to do.

"We tackle low because that's the true way to do it, and because we started from scratch," she says.

For larger players, such as Kim "Jolly" Allen, 22, a St. Louis police officer who stands 6 feet 5, that's not always easy. Contrary to popular belief, being tall isn't necessarily good in the game of football, where tackling low is key and most of your opponents are a good six inches shorter than you.

An extra Slam player is caught on the field during the first play of the game, and the Krunch is given a first down.

As the red-faced player exits the field, Simonds screams at her for giving up a first down. Teammates stroll over to console the errant player.

Not long after, the Slam gets the ball.

Toya "Turtle" Brown, 20 - the fastest woman Simonds has ever seen - is running full-speed for a pass when she's slammed between two speeding Krunch players near the sideline.

Brown pops up like a prairie dog and runs back to the huddle.

Simonds loves so many things about Brown - her speed, versatility, resilience and especially her sense of humility and sportsmanship.

Brown plays several positions on both offense and defense. She has football in her blood. Her father, Rush Brown, was a defensive lineman for the football Cardinals from 1980 to 1983. She has vague memories of going to training camp with him, but that's about it.

She played basketball and ran track in both high school and college before injuring her knee. When she heard about tryouts for the Slam, she knew she had to go.

Her favorite position is cornerback because she likes intimidating opposing players by staring them down - an ironic image considering her trim build and delicate facial features.

Van Apeldoorn completes several passes during the first half of the game.

The Krunch scores in the second quarter but fails to make a 2-point conversion.

Slam players are coming off the field, complaining that the Krunch is playing dirty. Within seconds, Slam receiver Myreta Davis catches a pass and is tackled out of bounds. She hits a small patch of blacktop on the sideline near her teammates.

"They're playing real dirty," Hollinshed says.

"That's all right, they're big old mean girls," Simonds says. "We are going to go in there, and we're going to play fair."

A few minutes later, Slam receiver Heather Bigott, who has caught several beautiful passes, is tackled on a play and doesn't get up. She's sprained her ankle and is out for the game.

The score is 6-0, heading into the second half.

Playing fair has its reward

During halftime, Simonds insists that her team continue to play fair. She demonstrates how to step back and knock the Krunch players' arms away when they grab facemasks and jerseys.

Ten minutes into the third quarter, Brown catches a pass and runs more than 70 yards for a touchdown. She lays the ball down in the end zone and makes a beeline off field.

"That's our Turtle," Simonds says.

Kicker Donna Nielsen kicks the extra point. The score is 7-6

Van Apeldoorn completes a pass to receiver Jackie Toman, who runs for 40 yards, but the Slam turns over the ball a few plays later.

Things get tense when the Krunch pushes from the 30-yard line to the 18 with five minutes left in the game. A flag on the next play leaves the Krunch penalized 15 yards for holding.

The team is penalized 5 more yards on the next play for being offside. Then Jolly Allen sacks the Krunch quarterback, and the Slam takes possession of the ball.

Van Apeldoorn hands off to running back Pat Riggins, 41, who runs for a first down.

Riggins, the oldest player on the team, is a wiry but muscular woman who ran track in high school with Olympian Jackie Joyner-Kersee. Soft-spoken and articulate, Riggins serves as a source of inspiration for the rest of the team. She loves football like crazy - always has. When she was 8 or 9 years old, she says, she played football with her brother and his friends all the time on the streets and fields of East St. Louis.

After Riggins' first down, Van Apeldoorn runs out the clock. Slam players rush the field. They're jubilant, jumping on each other's backs, high-fiving and hugging.

Two hours later, they're in a bar celebrating. They'll live it up before the soreness sets in.

Reporter Cynthia Billhartz:
E-mail: cbillhartz@post-dispatch.com
Phone: 314-340-8114