Father figures in son's success
Ex-Buc Eugene Marve is having the time of his life watching son follow in his footsteps.
By GARY SHELTON
Published December 8, 2006
Once, the man in the stands stood in the spotlight. The crowd knew his number. The announcer knew his name. The opponents knew his fierceness.
Good feeling, that.
This is better.
Once, the man in the stands chased legends across the grass. Walter Payton. Barry Sanders. Dan Marino. A good deal of the time, he caught them.
Great feeling, that.
This is better.
Once, the man in the stands felt the jubilation of winning a playoff game. He ran across the field in the excitement of the moment, and his wife handed his son to him over the rail, and he carried him into a joyous locker room.
Unforgettable feeling, of course.
Still, this is better.
This is Marvelous.
It is the son's time, and that suits Eugene Marve just fine. He sits in the stands, dying a little, smiling a lot, watching his son, Robert, lead a Plant High School team into a state championship game. There are times his heart feels as if it will burst from his chest from the emotions within. There are times he speaks so fast, so passionately, you might swear he is ready to strap on the pads himself, the same as he did in the old days.
Back in the day, back when everyone knew Robert as Eugene's son rather than the other way around, Eugene was a bloody-knuckles linebacker. He was not a great player, but he was tough enough and durable enough to last 12 seasons in the NFL, four of them with the Bucs beginning in 1988. For three of those seasons, he had more than 100 tackles.
He made himself some money. He had himself some moments.
This is better.
These days, Marve is just another dad watching the clock until Saturday afternoon, when Plant plays Ponte Vedra Beach Nease for the state championship. Robert is the star quarterback who has turned the family name into something special.
"This is so thrilling," Eugene said. "I tell people that I thought I was done feeling this way. There are so many familiar feelings as I watch my son play. The jubilation. The frustration. I finally know the agony of a sack."
Oh, he has felt a few thrills, too, from his customary seat on the 35-yard line, high in the stands to get the best vantage point. Yeah, this is better than playing. Harder, too.
"I try to be a laid-back fan," he said. "But I'm raving crazy on the inside. I'll have my outbursts.
"It's a roller-coaster ride. It's different than being competitive. When you're competitive, you're confident. But as a parent, you don't have any control. You go from the highest highs to the lowest lows."
How does an inside linebacker wind up with a quarterback as a son? With Robert, the position just seemed to fit his size, his temperament, his skills. Beyond that, it's just football, and the two share many of the same traits. Toughness. Work ethic. Competitiveness.
"There is nobody like my dad," said Robert. "I'm blessed to have someone who cares as much about me as he does."
When Robert was 3, his father played in his final win as a pro. He was playing for San Diego at the time, and the Chargers shut out Kansas City 17-0 in a first-round playoff game in 1992. After the game, Eugene rushed to the stands, grabbed Robert and carried him into the celebration. Who better to share the moment with?
"I don't remember anything about the game," Robert said. "I just remember my mom handing me over the rail. I remember the players in the locker room."
Eugene remembers something else. Once the Chargers were in the locker room, they knelt in prayer. At one point, Eugene glanced toward his son. Robert, too, had taken a knee, bowed his head and was praying along. Even then, the kid fit in a locker room.
Eugene and Julie Marve, Robert's mom, divorced a couple of years later. They live not far from each other in South Tampa. Robert says he and his father talk "once or twice" a day. Plant's journey has brought them closer than ever, and football has provided them with a common bond.
There are moments, both of them will tell you, when a father says too much.
"I irritate him," Eugene says and laughs. "I critique too much. He'll come out and have a great game and throw for 10 touchdowns, and I'll say, 'Yeah, but you shouldn't have thrown deep on that one play. There were three people there.' I'm his worst critic, and I shouldn't be."
Robert rolls his eyes and chuckles at the confession.
"That's exactly right," he said. "I'll throw for 500 yards, and he talks about, 'On that blitz, you should have rolled out and hit the guy on the backside.' Or he'll talk about a ball that wasn't placed perfectly even though it was a touchdown. That's just his little way of telling me to keep working hard."
Of course, Robert has his ways of getting even. He'll tell Eugene he could have taken him in high school. He'll tell him he's a better basketball player. He'll call him an old man.
You know, the fun stuff.
Down deep, however, a bond strengthens. If you really want to know what Eugene thinks of his kid, ask him to compare him to some of the quarterbacks he played against.
"He's like a Doug Flutie," Eugene said. "I was going to say Dan Marino, but Marino can't move. His legs are Flutie, his arm is Marino. He's like a Fran Tarkenton, a guy who can think on the move. He moves like Marino wishes he could have moved. He's a modern quarterback."
Odd, isn't it, that Eugene was more comfortable when Robert played soccer. Football players know there is a price the body pays to the sport, and Eugene would cringe every time he would watch his son get hit. Still, how are you going to keep a kid out of the family business?
"Preachers usually raise a preacher," Eugene said. "Doctors usually raise a doctor. Football players raise football players. He's got my DNA.
"I didn't choose his position. God chose his position."
Come Saturday in Miami, Eugene will brave the bleachers once more. Robert will check the stands for him and for his mother.
Then a son will try to win a championship. Special thing, that.
For the father, this is better.
Gary Shelton can be reached at (727) 893-8805.
RB Chris Rainey will be allowed to play for Lakeland in tonight's Class 5A state title game, XC
State football
Class 4A
Plant (14-0) vs. Ponte Vedra Beach Nease (14-0)
Dolphin Stadium, Miami, Saturday, 1 p.m.
Admission: $10 (tickets on sale at Plant High)
TV: Sun Sports
Radio: 1470-AM; Live stats and radio coverage available at FHSAAsports.com.
On the Web: The Times will provide live updates throughout the game as well as an audio-visual gallery on our Web site: blogs.tampabay.com/preps/
To Dolphin Stadium: Take Interstate 75 South for approximately 230 miles, merging onto I-595 (via Exit 19) toward Fort Lauderdale. Go 9.6 miles to Florida's Turnpike Toll exit (Exit 8A). Merge onto Florida's Turnpike S. via the exit on the left toward Miami. Go 8.9 miles and take the NW 199th St. exit (Exit 2X) toward Dolphin Stadium. Go 0.7 miles and turn right onto NW 199th St./Dan Marino Boulevard.
Other games
Class 6A
Altamonte Springs Lake Brantley vs. Miami Northwestern, 7 p.m. Saturday
Class 5A
Lakeland vs. St. Thomas Aquinas, 7:30 p.m. Friday
Class 3A
Pensacola Pine Forest vs. Belle Glade Glades Central, 1 p.m. Friday