Heart of a champion

PETALUMA

How do you explain the success of a high school football team? Do you watch some game tape and look at the protections and the defensive adjustments? Break down the numbers, the yards per carry and turnover differential? Sure, it helps.

But if you really want to understand the heart of Casa Grande football, and how the Gauchos closed ranks to go undefeated until losing to Miramonte in the North Coast Section Division 2 championship game last weekend, you have to go back more than two years. You need to know how the worst week in Spenser Merillion's life became one of his proudest.

First, you need to know a little about Spenser Merillion.

The Casa Grande senior has Asperger syndrome, and if you are close to anyone who has received that diagnosis, you know how tricky it can be to define. Merillion does many things well. He excels at rote memorization. He's good at math and is quite well spoken. And yet some assignments that most teens would find routine are daunting for Merillion.

"He doesn't process the same," said his mother, Lydia, a campus aide at Sonoma Mountain Elementary School. "In academics, if a teacher does not repeat a procedure or break it down in easy ways, it's hard for him to understand. You can't give him a three-point assignment -- like do this, and then this, and then this."

Spenser Merillion loves to run, but his gross motor skills are lacking. He can be a bit clumsy. And like a lot of Asperger's kids, Merillion tends to speak bluntly, without much affect, making him seem disengaged to those who don't know him well.

If Merillion had more severe symptoms, or an obvious physical disability, he might have long ago become a mascot to his classmates. Instead, he was just different enough to be pushed away. Some kids mocked him at the edge of earshot. Most simply ignored him -- including the Casa football players.

"I knew they did football. I looked up to them," Merillion said. "They didn't know me. It was kind of weird. I had classes with a few of them, but they just thought of me as the nerd or just the quiet kid who does his homework."

Father battles cancer

While Merillion struggled for acceptance, he was going through something even harsher. His father, Gary, had been diagnosed with Stage IV lymphoma in October of 2002, on Spenser's seventh birthday. He was not expected to beat the cancer, but he did, with help from aggressive radiation and chemotherapy.

Gary Merillion was declared cancer-free in 2004, but he was physically devastated. The illness, which primarily affected his tonsils and lymph nodes, made it difficult to swallow food. Weakened by the treatment, Gary shed more than 100 pounds. His muscles atrophied and he lost feeling in his hands and feet, forcing him to get around in a wheelchair.

The rough-and-tumble San Francisco firefighter who owned a winter ski pass for Squaw Valley and loved to jet-ski in the summer couldn't even play catch with Spenser in front of the house. Father and son would go to movies together sometimes, but even then Lydia would have to drive them to the theater and help Gary inside.

In the spring of 2012, Spenser thought of a way to make his ailing dad happy. He would try out for the Casa football team.

"I didn't even tell my mom," Spenser said. "I sat down and I looked him straight in the eye and I asked him, 'Can I have a moment of your time?' . . . And I told him, 'Dad, I want to go out for the football team.' And to this day, that's one of the biggest things that I'm proud to have said to my father. I could tell by his reaction that he thought it was a dream."

Gary had played at Petaluma High after moving from San Francisco for his senior year, and for ages he had tried to lure his son to the couch to watch 49ers games. Spenser, hyper-focused on Japanese manga comics and into video games, had never been interested in Frank Gore or Patrick Willis.

But that day, he walked into the spring meeting, dozens of bemused gazes aimed in his direction, and declared his intention to play football. Casa Grande coach Trent Herzog doesn't cut anyone. He told Spenser that if he was willing to put in the work and accept a backup role, he could be a Gaucho. Late that summer, as he started his junior year, Merillion began to practice with the team.

Starting from scratch

It was a bumpy ride. Merillion knew nothing about football. Herzog asked him which position he wanted to play. Merillion didn't know the positions. Herzog asked him his favorite player. He didn't have one. Merillion said he was pretty fast, so Herzog put him at wide receiver and defensive back, and the coaches went about teaching him the basics of catching a pass.

Meanwhile, Gary's health was in free fall. He went into the hospital in August and spent 35 days in critical care. In mid-September, Lydia checked him out of the hospital to spend his final days at home. Herzog urged Lydia to bring her husband to a game, insisting she text him when they arrived; he would make sure Gary got to see Spenser in action. But Gary was too sick to attend. He died Sept. 29, 2012.

"Probably the last thing he ever saw -- or at least the last thing I ever saw him see -- I was wearing my green Casa jersey, and I was talking to him before I went off to school," Spenser said. "He was just sleeping, but I remember seeing his eyes, and right when I was about to head off, he tries to force his eyes open. And I think that was the last thing he ever saw of me, wearing a Casa jersey."

Gauchos become a team

Gary died on a Saturday. The following Thursday, the Gauchos assembled for what they call Team Talk. The night before a game, the players all eat dinner together, then head to the Casa Grande playing field, where they link arms and talk in the dark. Coaches not allowed. The conversation usually veers toward inspirational nuggets, but sometimes players offer their personal struggles or worries.

That night, Spenser spoke of his father's death, pledged his support and asked his teammates for theirs.

"That's when I felt like we really became a team," Merillion said.

Certainly, it's when Merillion became a teammate. Suddenly he was more than the quiet newcomer with the odd manner. The other players finally took a look at who he was, and discovered there was a lot there to like. They rallied around him in his darkest hour.

'Simple acts of kindness'

Before his father's death, Merillion, who does not drive, usually sat alone to eat his lunch in a classroom. Now he eats among the football players. Guard Brendan Jackson started taking Merillion to Wingstop after games, and JaJuan Lawson, the all-everything quarterback, included Spenser in his personal game-day ritual: going to 7-Eleven for a Slurpee.

"I never would have thought I'd hang out with the star quarterback like that," Merillion said. ". . . It still baffles me that could even happen, that these guys could consider just talking to me."

In October, Lawson's girlfriend, Casa Grande senior Bella Rocca, gave Spenser a card and a cupcake on his 18th birthday. It was a card and a cupcake, that's all, but Lydia Merillion choked up when she mentioned it, recalling the birthdays that went unmarked by Spenser's classmates.

"It still gets to me," Lydia said. "Those simple acts of kindness."

Running through the banner

Other traditions were born. One night this fall, Merillion decided he wanted to be the one to break the paper banner the Casa cheerleaders stretch across the field before games and at halftime. He sprinted to the head of the mob and burst through the banner. Merillion said it was the closest thing he's felt to scoring a touchdown.

Starting with that game, he became the guy to run through every banner. Once in a while, a teammate would do the honors -- after clearing it with Merillion first.

As Spenser's place on the team solidified, Lydia said, his self-esteem soared. And because football is king at Casa Grande, other students started to treat him differently. Non-football kids began greeting Spenser in the hallway. At senior night they chanted his name, imploring Herzog to send him into the game.

Merillion readily acknowledges the impact football has had on his life. His impact on the team isn't as obvious, but Herzog insists his 2013 squad made school history in large part because of its cohesiveness. If that's the case, Merillion's presence played a big role.

"Having a reason to play for someone or something makes it a lot more personal and special," said John Porchivina, one of the Gauchos' top players on offense and defense. "He wasn't even worried about playing, he just wanted us to go all the way. . . . I definitely played for Spenser this year. I wanted him to get in more than he did."

Merillion improved tremendously over two seasons, though he never truly mastered the sport.

"Eventually I learned how to run routes and catch balls," he said. "But the technicality of football I still do not get to this day. The physical stuff I can do, for the most part. . . . But the mental stuff, it's like I do not understand what you're saying."

Merillion will start wrestling soon, and he will run sprints for the Casa track team in the spring. (He has participated in both those sports since he was a freshman.) He's not sure what he'll be doing next year, but it may involve the Peace Corps or first-responder certification at Santa Rosa JC -- anything to help him toward his goal of becoming a third-generation firefighter. That promises to be another long road for Merillion, but who would count him out at this point?

For now, he and the rest of the Gauchos players are left to reflect on an exhilarating season that lacked a fairytale ending.

On the verge of qualifying for the CIF NorCal championship game, top-seeded Casa Grande lost that NCS final. And Merillion failed to achieve his dream of catching a touchdown pass in a game.

A coach's regret

"I really wanted that more than ever, I would have put my right arm in the air for my dad," Merillion wrote on his Instagram page after Casa's loss, while also expressing love for his teammates and thanking them because "they all didn't mind my disabilities."

Herzog harbors a similar regret. Looking back, he wishes he had figured out a way to throw Merillion the ball in the end zone a couple times. The timing never seemed right.

"That's the one thing I would take back," Herzog said. "At the varsity level you get caught up on winning and handling your business. But I wish I'd have gotten him that touchdown. And if I ever have to do it again, I will."

Herzog may not get another chance. Not to make the coach feel any worse than he already does, but there just aren't that many Spenser Merillions out there.

You can reach Staff Writer Phil Barber at 521-5263 or phil.barber@pressdemocrat.com.

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