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One-on-one with Pat Fitzgerald

EVANSTON-Woody Allen is credited with saying that showing up is 80 percent of life. He certainly knows what he’s talking about in that regard. I’m living proof.

I turned out to be the only media member who traveled to Evanston today for Northwestern’s signing day press conference. As a result, I got to spend 20 minutes one-on-one with head coach Pat Fitzgerald in his swanky office with breathtaking views.

Instead of asking questions in an auditorium full of journalists and television cameras, I got to sit at a small round table across from Fitzgerald and have a free-flowing conversation about anything I wanted.

It was an inconvenience for Fitzgerald, who almost got away without having to talk to the media about his new 18-member Class of 2019 at all. But it was a dream come true for this writer – any writer, really.

The fact that no one showed up for the press conference wasn’t unexpected. Chicago Bears coach Matt Nagy was holding a press conference at about the same time, taking a lot of Chicago’s TV cameras with him. Northwestern students are on winter break, eliminating the student publications and websites. BTN showed up early that morning to do their shooting. The Chicago Tribune’s Teddy Greenstein was unavailable.

So all that was left was me.

In the larger picture, it may be indicative of the decline of signing day, in general – especially since there are now two of them, one in December and one in February. Fitzgerald has talked many times about his disdain for signing day and how he wishes they’d abolish it altogether in place of a transparent, technology-based system that would enable prospects to sign anytime that they wanted.

Judging by the amount of media interest on this day, Fitzgerald may soon get his wish.

Pat Fitzgerald's desk.
Pat Fitzgerald's desk.
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Fitzgerald greeted me in the waiting area outside of his office dressed in his customary weekday garb – matching black, Under Armour Northwestern T-shirt and shorts. He had just given some well-heeled donors a tour of the football facilities and apologized for keeping me waiting.

Apologize? I was thrilled to be talking to him at all. I said I was sorry for marring what would have otherwise been a perfect day for him. If it wasn’t for me, he wouldn’t have had to field any questions about the futures of players he has yet to coach.

We went into his wedge-shaped, two-room office on the southeast corner of the third level of the Walter Athletic Center. The East and South walls of the office are essentially all glass, showing off what are, fittingly, the best views in the whole facility. This is the king’s throne, after all. To the East is Lake Michigan, to the South is the football practice fields in the foreground and the skyline of Chicago in the far distance. The weather – an unseasonably warm and sunny 50 degrees – was postcard-perfect.

“These views aren’t bad,” he said. No, they’re not.

Fitzgerald’s actual working office is in the smaller of the two rooms, the upper half of the right triangle, as it were. Behind his desk are two shelves lined with framed photos of each of the Wildcats’ 19 seniors. There are four game balls on those shelves – one for his 50th win, for example – and more on the adjacent wall. Pictures of his family adorn the credenza behind his chair.

There is also a video board and a white board on the one wall that runs the length of the office. The video board was turned off and what was written on the white board in Dry Erase marker was off limits. “You can’t take a picture of that, okay?” he asked. No problem. I snapped a few pictures with my iPhone that didn't do justice to a spectacular office on a spectacular day.

For the record, Fitzgerald requested that I not take any pictures of him. "There's too much of me on the Internet as it is," he said.

The view to the East from Fitzgerald's "recruiting room."
The view to the East from Fitzgerald's "recruiting room."

The other room of the office suite is what a normal executive would call a lounge or ante room. Fitzgerald calls it “the recruiting room,” which tells you exactly what its function is. If you were a 17-year-old high school football player, it would be difficult not to be wowed by the space, which also opens to a private balcony to the South.

On one half-wall that runs along the East side window are perched seven helmets, adorned with many of the designs the Wildcats wear on any given Saturday. There are black and white helmets bearing the Cat head or the N logo, and the stars-and-stripes helmet they wore a few years ago to honor Wounded Warriors. And in the pole position is a purple race car helmet, with the block N, that came from the Northwestern-themed Indy car unveiled for the Big Ten championship game. There is also a Music City Bowl guitar leaning on the wall.

The centerpiece of the room, though, is a glass table that is surrounded by chairs and a small couch. The reason it commands attention is what’s under that glass.

In the center is a glass case – yes, a glass case under a glass tabletop – that holds all of the rings Fitzgerald has earned as a player or coach, whether they are for Big Ten championships or bowls. Well, all but his Rose Bowl ring. “I don’t know where that thing is,” he says.

To either side of the rings are a pair of what we’ll call Northwestern football artifacts, also in glass cases. One is the last Sweet Sioux Tomahawk Trophy, awarded in 2008, when Northwestern beat Illinois 27-10 so it could hold onto the trophy in perpetuity. The other – well, that one will remain off the record, too. “You can’t take a picture or write about this one,” he said, before explaining its origin.

Needless to say, it holds such an honored place for a reason.

The view to the South from the same recruiting room.
The view to the South from the same recruiting room.

While a few decorations in the office were off limits, very little in our conversation was.

We sat at a small table, surrounded by four chairs, in front of his desk. Fitzgerald, drinking bottled water like he typically does just about every time he’s at a podium, sat back and talked about anything I asked. He seemed relaxed and comfortable, more at ease than he was during Monday press conferences for much of the season, when the pressure increased as the wins stacked up. There were only a couple times where he said that something was “not for the article.” For the most part, they were minor things.

We talked about the enormous potential of the four wide receivers in the 2019 class, including Genson Hooper-Price, who has a 6-foot-5 frame to go along with elite track speed – 10.57 seconds in the 100-meter dash. “We’ve had size like that with a handful of guys,” he said, rattling off the names of Kyle Prater and Bennett Skowronek. “But I don’t know if we’ve had the size-speed combination.”

We talked about the early enrollees of this class. There are three of them: cornerback Roderick Heard, linebacker Michael Jansey Jr. and – in a new one for even Fitz – walkon kicker Trey Finison. “More power to him,” said Fitzgerald.

We talked about how he makes decisions about when to award a walkon a scholarship. We talked about what needs he still has for this class that he may sign in February. We talked about why he has so much success landing prospects from Houston. We talked about the rise of what he called “transfer season,” in January, when teams look to fill needs with transfers that they didn't address in recruiting.

Maybe most surprisingly, we talked at length about the search for an offensive line coach, something I’m not sure Fitzgerald would’ve gotten into in that much depth in front of a full media audience. He let on that he and offensive coordinator Mick McCall are working to get the list of candidates down to 20 after receiving between 125 and 150 resumes within 48 hours. “It’s amazing how many people will talk to you when you’ve got a job open,” he said with raised eyebrows and a smile.

The 20 minutes flew by. I had gone in with just a few questions in my little notepad, but when you get a shot at the head honcho you have to empty your chamber.

So it was I that eventually ended the conversation, not Fitzgerald. He showed me around the office a little bit before escorting me out the door. His wife, Stacy, had just arrived with lunch, so it was perfect timing.

We shook hands. “I appreciate you,” said Fitzgerald.

No, coach, the pleasure was all mine.


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