The Unbearable Quest – Ohio State Buckeyes
11/17/1998 12:00:00 AM | Football
November 17, 1998
COLUMBUS, Ohio – By Greg Aylsworth OSU Athletic Communications
The struggle for existence and meaning has been a common goal since man first roamed the earth and is inherent to the building of body, mind and character.
To fully understand the struggle of senior tailback Joe Montgomery is to start at the roots with a glance at his youth and his hometown of Robbins, Ill. A small suburban community just south of Chicago, it is noted for its constant upward struggle. According to the Chicago Tribune, Robbins ranked 262nd out of 263 communities in per-capita income in 1994 and “may be one of the poorest communities in the Chicago area, but it is rich in intangibles, such as pride and optimism.”
Pride and optimism. The very words ring a piercing tone and represent a high standard of self respect and determination to succeed. But they mean so much more when they are all you’ve got and maybe all you’ll ever have.
Montgomery was born the first son of Joe and Renee Montgomery on a summer day in June of 1976. His parents were each 18 years old and without a high school degree at the time of his birth. The pair molded him by stressing education, doing the right things and teaching respect for themselves and others. They would always give their sons equal voice in any situation, letting no problem escape a thorough conversation before a solution was attained.
“We just tried to set a good example for he and his brother Jason and taught them to see what’s important and what’s not important,” said his mother. “I told them when they were young to show me how much they loved me by going to school and not getting into trouble where I would have to come down and talk to their teachers. Even through high school I never had to go down to the school for either of those boys.”
Montgomery spent his youth unwillingly crossing paths with drug dealers and gang members and had every opportunity imaginable to travel down the wrong path, but his parents wouldn’t let him. “Sometimes when you live in that type of neighborhood, you look at those people as role models,” he said. “But my mother and father were an inspiration to me. Dealing with all the things they had to deal with and making sure I was going to be all right.” The summer before he came to Ohio State, his father was laid off from work just as his son was preparing to leave. While most soon-to-be college freshmen are taking it easy, earning a little extra money for their new standard of living, Montgomery was fighting back tears and frustration, attending one funeral after another. Five of his close friends were killed as a result of gang-related violence in the few months before he was to embark on his collegiate voyage.
“Sometimes you can’t ask why,” he said. “Everything happens for a reason and adversity makes some men stronger. You’ve got to look yourself in the face and see what type of person you are.”
Montgomery came to school with not much more than the clothes on his back and he would continue the fight to rise above the past, even though the weight that held him down seemed unbearable.
“When I got to college, I only had three pairs of pants and maybe five, six shirts…through the course of the year,” he said. “I would get my hair cut barely once a month. It was hard.”
Upon arriving on campus, things were starting to look up. He was finally ready for a brand new start, away from the dangerous streets of his youth and a chance to assimilate into the slow-paced hum of Columbus, Ohio. But one week into his freshman year, the bottom dropped out…again. After being told that he was going to see time in the lineup as a true freshman, the NCAA Clearing House would not accept some of his high school course work and he was declared ineligible. He would have to sit out his first season. It also took him a while to get accepted into the ranks of the team as he got knocked back a little bit both physically and mentally, which took him by surprise.
The next year he came into camp a robust 250 pounds which raised questions about his heart and his character. The never-ending road of despair kept getting bumpier and the future looked bleak as he would have to redshirt his sophomore season.
During that year, his mother suffered a mild heart attack and Montgomery returned home during the spring to offer assistance.
“Most kids are going to Jamaica or the Bahamas for spring break,” he said. “As soon as I get off the plane, I’m taking my mother to the hospital.”
The clouds began to break in 1996, his initial season of collegiate action. But it didn’t stay sunny for long. After averaging 6.8 yards per carry through eight games, Montgomery tore his right knee in the first quarter of the Minnesota game, a gruesome injury that required major reconstructive surgery the next day. He tried to bounce back the following year, but was clearly slowed by the impairment that was labeled as career-ending. He appeared in just six games, was visibly not up to par and was tormented by off-field distractions such as his missing car that was stolen the first day of fall practice.
Determined to beat the odds yet again, Montgomery raced through his painful rehabilitation faster than expected and has ripped off 510 yards and five touchdowns in his final season as a Buckeye. He receives one of the truest forms of respect when the 90,000-plus rabid fans erupt in a frenzy any time he enters or leaves a game.
“It’s not how you fall, it’s how you get up,” said his father. “I would tell Joseph to always remember what’s important and believe in himself. He may give us a lot of credit for where he has gotten, but everything he’s done, he has done on his own.”
On the field, Montgomery can bowl over a linebacker and then run away from a safety without batting an eye. Off the field, he is one of the many Buckeye athletes involved in the community and frequently visits the Columbus Boys and Girls Clubs. What you see is what you get with Montgomery. It is something that gives him that special edge when sharing so much of himself with the inner city youth.
“I think they look up to me because I was that kid,” he said. “That kid that didn’t have anything.”
“I think he’s cognizant of how important it is for someone like him to be a role model and what it means to other kids,” said Steve Snapp, OSU’s Director of External Programming.
Times have been rough, to say the least and the constant harassment of his disposition now seems funny to the outspoken athlete who has done nothing but given everything of himself.
“I haven’t really had time to sit back and think about all the things I’ve had to go through,” said Montgomery. “The only thing I’ve been able to do is react. After the last game it’s going to be very emotional for me because then I know it’s all over and this chapter of my life will come to an end.”
A chapter that is full of tales and verses that many men will never know. A chapter that will end with a boy grown to manhood through struggle, pain and wounds that may never heal. A chapter that won’t fully be complete until he accepts his Bachelor of Science in Sociology this spring and becomes the first member of the entire Montgomery family to receive a college degree.
“Certain situations are made easy for some people and then its hell for others,” said Montgomery taking a deep breath. “But at the same time, God doesn’t touch the weak. He doesn’t.
“I think the big thing with me is that when its over, I can honestly say that I did it. Nobody helped me.”
