Padecky: Former Casa Grande football standout leaves game behind

His feet hurt all the time. Sitting. Standing. Reclining. Walking, for sure. They hurt all the time. And they aren’t even a nuisance. Not even worth a shrug. John Porchivina has never been happier.

What made them hurt, well, Porchivina said it was the best thing that ever happened to him. Better than that star-studded football career he had at Casa Grande. Definitely more satisfying than getting that football scholarship to Cal. All those pats on the back, all those flowery compliments, all those adoring spotlights, all that was less than two years ago.

Which makes the next sentence feel like an ice water splash on that resume.

“I hardly ever think about football anymore,” said Lance Corporal John Porchivina of the United States Marine Corps.

John Porchivina doesn’t think about football? Huh?

John Porchivina lived football, inhaled it like oxygen. Once, it was as close as it could get as being a reason for living for him. He loved the contact, the success, the looks he would get that made him feel like a rock star. What teenager wouldn’t? At any age, applause can be a drug. When it comes on the heels of 3,508 all-purpose yards and 45 touchdowns - his statistics over two seasons as a Gaucho - such applause can send corrupt the best of talents.

Which makes the next sentence feel like another ice water splash on that resume.

“I took plays off,” he said. “I took practices off.”

Porchivina did all that and he didn’t bust it from whistle to whistle?

“I was a team captain, but I wasn’t a leader,” Porchivina said. “I just did what I wanted to do. If a teammate screwed up or had trouble with something, I wouldn’t help him out. It wasn’t me screwing up. Why bother?”

And then Porchivina said something that you won’t hear from every 20-year-old.

“I was a self-centered (rhymes with grit),” he said. “What can touch me? I lived without consequences.”

To look at oneself so unforgiving and without compromise is difficult for anyone at any age. But the journey John Porchivina has taken to propel him to finish first in a Marine recruiting class of 518 - the celebrated Honor Graduate - is a story worth sharing. And Porchivina has. He has spoken twice to this year’s Casa’s football team. Now back in San Diego, Porchivina spent the month of September at home to see family and friends and relate his 13-week Marine boot camp experience.

His message to this year’s Gaucho team was as clear and direct as his self-assessment of a high school football player.

“Don’t take it (football) for granted,” was the first thing he said to the players. “College sports is not a game; it’s a job. Every down you play in high school, that’s about as good as it’s going to get for you. And I wish I had taken school more seriously; I just skated by.”

Yes, you guessed it, wasn’t a player who slept through that speech. Porchivina’s name carries weight around this school. He was NBL back of the year in 2014. He was first-team All-NBL both on offense and defense. He ran for a school-record 301 yards against Windsor.

His is a cautionary tale and the first caution is reality. He was the grit when he arrived at Berkeley. Least that’s what he thought. He was red-shirted his freshman year. He broke his hand. He sat. And watched. With headaches.

“I noticed I was having head issues,” he said. “I was having memory issues. A friend would tell me to get going, we had to get somewhere and I couldn’t remember.”

His father, Rudy, was a bit more specific.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he had one, two, maybe three concussions,” said the elder Porchivina, a small-business owner. “Yes, there are concussion protocols in college and those are for the players seen playing on Saturday. For practice squad guys? You gotta really, really love that life (to practice for an entire year with no chance of playing).”

Sitting was an ice water slap all by itself for Porchivina, an Honorable Mention at the 2013 U.S. Army All-American Combine.

He decided to leave Cal and go to SRJC. The University of New Mexico became interested. San Jose State was in play. All the while a thought kept resurfacing, nagging, refusing to go away.

“Sure I could have kept playing football, but who would I be benefitting other than myself?”

Rudy was a Marine but that history wasn’t pushing Porchivina’s decision.

He was only four when the World Trade Center was attacked, but he had a memory of that. He saw the news. He saw the rise of ISIS. He saw the rise of commitment in himself, and it wasn’t football.

“I was surprised (when John enlisted),” Rudy Porchivina said. “I never glorified it. It’s a tough life. He wanted to be an infantryman. That’s no cakewalk. The phrase I use all the time is this: No one cuddles their newborn infant and says, ‘I hope you’ll grow up and be an infantryman.’ Yes, you want the White House or being a doctor or a lawyer. But infantry in the Marine Corps?”

Rudy did his best to prepare his son, but no amount of words could re-create the feeling the Marine Corps are determined to emphasize: This ain’t no place for a self-centered grit.

After taking the oath, the bus ride to boot camp certainly set the stage - the recruits were to keep their heads down and not look out the vehicle’s windows. No electronics would be permitted in the 13 weeks. No call home. Family and friends could send letters. Nothing outgoing. No newspapers. No word of the outside world. That’s it. Haircut once a week. Shave twice a day.

“It’s a little long in the back right now,” Porchivina said, pointing to the hair on the back of his neck that, for most men, wouldn’t even be called stubble. No stubble in the bubble, the bubble the Marines want. Nothing on the outside matters right now.

So when Porchivina went through The Crucible, he needed to have his full concentration. Sleep eight hours in a 54-hour period, most of those hours on the move. Carrying just enough rations for two-and-half meals, to be portioned out over those 54 hours.

And Porchivina loved it.

“To tell you the truth,” Porchivina said, “(the exercise) was pretty easy. Two-a-days at Cal was harder. I get paid to work out and shoot guns. Their lifestyle is my kind of lifestyle. We’d go on a 25-kilometer hike with a full pack and some guys would groan. I’d be excited. I’d like the workout. I’m where I belong.”

Least anyone think Porchivina is describing a 13-week Pilates workout without showering, as if he’s on some exercise holiday, don’t be misled. What Porchivina gained from boot camp was not a love of exercise. He already knew that. What did happen was what he wished had happened at Casa.

“I learned to become a leader,” said Porchivina, 6-foot-1, 205 pounds, 10 less pounds than when he played at Casa Grande. “I was a kid in high school and I behaved like a kid. The Marines taught me how to be a man.”

The Corps did such a good job that Porchivina was named Honor Graduate of Kilo company. That’s No. 1 out of 518 recruits. He was promoted to Lance Corporal. The other 517 graduates are Private First Class.

“Drill instructors rarely, if ever, talk to recruit families on graduation day,” Rudy Porchivina said. “But a DI came up to us and said, ‘We could put a hat on John right now and he’d be a member of us (drill instructors).’ John right now is a much better Marine than I ever was.”

Turning 21 on Nov. 1, Porchivina is now mature beyond his years. This stands in sharp contrast to what he once wasn’t.

“Why wasn’t I more like JuJuan?” ruminates Porchivina of JuJuan Lawson, the quarterback of Casa’s 13-1 team in 2014. “That’s the perfect example of a leader. JuJuan played safety and he hit people as hard as he could. He was doing it for the team, not holding back. Why couldn’t I have been more like him?”

Well, Porchivina is. Now. Maturity is like a pizza delivery. It arrives at different times for different people.

“Dude, you’re a completely different guy,” said Petaluma’s Patrick Garcia, a good friend of Porchivina’s.

John Porchivina had to do everything he could to not respond, “Thank you, sir.”

To contact Bob Padecky email him at bobpadecky@gmail.com.