For pure devotion, these guys are the benchmark

This weekend, the high school football season kicks off in stadiums across the region. And while gallant tales of 200-yard rushers and 300-yard passers are sure to appear, what of those players who sit so far down the bench they need a cellphone to reach the coach?

The ones whose main responsibility is to offer sideline cheers on days they're not acting as tackle dummies? The ones whose devotion to the game begs the question: Why do they emotionally and physically sacrifice themselves, knowing the limelight probably will always shine on another player?

``For me, I keep coming out for the team because I love football," said Connor Bevans, the backup to the backup quarterback for the defending Division 2 Super Bowl champion Duxbury Dragons. ``I love the game, and I love being a part of the team."

Bevans represents a loyal fraternity of high school football players who, despite getting their bones crunched in practice and rarely, if ever, seeing playing time, always show up every day as if the entire school program depended on it. These players understand commitment doesn't come with a guarantee of playing time.

Duxbury head coach Dave Maimaron says his program could not enjoy the success it has without players like Bevans.

``One of the hardest things as a varsity football coach is to see those kids buried on the depth chart, knowing they're likely not going to get into a game," said Maimaron, whose varsity program carries nearly 80 players. ``Still, they show up every day. They do everything they can in practice. They do everything the coaches ask. You have to admire their dedication. You have to admire someone like Connor."

Through his freshman, sophomore, and junior years, Bevans never missed a practice or a game. So what if Monday through Thursday he played quarterback for the scout team, basically painting a bull's -eye on the front and back of his jersey for the starting defense to see? The 17-year-old took his job seriously.

``It was my job to get the starters ready," he said. ``Sometimes that meant taking hits in practice."

Game days find Bevans with clipboard in hand, charting every play run by Duxbury and its opponent. He said it's his way of staying involved. ``I feel like another coach out there," he said. ``I want to contribute, even though I know I'm not going to play."

While a lack of skill has kept Bevans on the sidelines, the book-smart senior now faces an obstacle much larger. He was diagnosed with cancer on July 24. Caught early, his chances for complete recovery are excellent, said his father, Bob Bevans.

``His prognosis is a 99 percent cure rate," said the father, who joins his wife, Kelly, in making every game. ``We are so thankful for that. As for football, Connor isn't likely to play, but we go to support him and cheer on the team. I think his dedication has gained the respect of the team."

It certainly has caught the eye of Duxbury assistant football coach John Taglieri. He believes a return by Bevans -- who hopes to be back midseason -- will mean as much to his team emotionally as the rebound of any starter.

``Connor is one of those players that define our football program," he said. ``Those players that practice hard and always show up knowing that they're not going to play are so important. They want to be a part of something special. Connor doesn't see playing time, but he really leads by example. I have two young sons, and if they turn out like Connor I know they've made it."

At football-crazed Brockton, where Friday nights in autumn are considered a local holiday, the Boxers' gridiron program goes out of its way to honor the unsung hero. At the end of each season, head coach Peter Colombo meets with his assistants to discuss that ``special" player.

``We give out the Paul Tasho Award," he said. ``It's named after a kid who was on the team in the '80s who hung in there all through high school despite never seeing playing time."

Tasho, said Colombo, was on his way home following a recruiting visit to Dartmouth College when he fell asleep behind the wheel. He died in a single-car crash.

``Paul knew his role, and still he came every day," said Colombo. ``Each year, we honor someone who displays the same quiet dedication that Paul had." Following the Boxers' Division 1 Super Bowl victory last year, the coaches presented the award to senior Nick Swartz.

``I'm proud of that award," Swartz said recently as he prepared to head off to college in Pennsylvania. ``I was a backup and I knew it. But I still worked hard. I tried to help wherever I could."

So good was Swartz at memorizing the offensive line schemes that starters came to him for advice. ``They'd come to me before asking the coaches. I knew the schemes, and they appreciated it," said Swartz, who proudly displays his trophy on a hope chest next to his high school diploma. ``My job was to push the starters 110 percent in practice, because how you play in practice is how you play in games."

A strong candidate for the Tasho award this season might be Lamar Henry. A late cut from the team last year, the senior has shown a desire to do whatever it takes to make the Boxers better.

``I don't worry that much about playing time," said Henry, who spent the summer running while tied to a weighted sled he had made in sheet-metal class.

``I just want to work hard and set a good example for everyone," he said. ``That's not to say I won't be disappointed if I don't play. I will be. But I'll help the team in any way I can."

And that attitude, say coaches, is what separates winners from also-rans.

``As a coach you want to be honest with players about their skill and what they might expect during a season," said Maimaron. ``We don't purposely bury kids on the depth chart. It happens. It says a lot about their character when they always show up."

Hull coach Jake McGrath agrees. ``These players who always are ready to play when they know they're not likely to, set great examples," he said. ``Those are the players who build a great work ethic for the rest of their life. It helps them become more successful."

Jim Curran was one of those players more than 30 years ago, when he went out for the Plymouth-Carver High School team. Once during a game, he said recently, he heard the head coach call for him loudly. Clutching his helmet, the freshman sprinted to sideline huddle. A starting player was hurt, and his helmet had been damaged in a collision with an opponent.

But all the coach said was, ``Curran, give him your helmet."

Curran, now a graphic artist, still laughs when he recalls the episode, the bruising memory of what he calls his ``high school football legacy."

``I almost lost it when the coach called my name. I thought I was going in," he said. ``The significance of the moment didn't hit me until a few minutes later, when a few guys on the team razzed me about it. On the plus side, I could pick myself out [in the background] of a few photos that ran in the newspaper. I was the one with no helmet and the clean uniform."

Today, Curran's tale of being the forgotten player never fails to crack up a social gathering. ``I was bothered by what happened, but I never thought of quitting," he said. ``Maybe it made me determined to see the season through, and I did."

So while he isn't about to attribute the good things in his life to having his helmet taken away in front of his teammates, he acknowledges that being even a small part of a team has served him well.

``There was a certain brotherhood there that I will always remember," he said wistfully.

Robert Carroll can be reached at rcarroll@globe.com.