Surge of excitement
Worcester's indoor football team strives to put on a show
WORCESTER -- How good are the New England Surge of the Continental Indoor Football League? Well, they have a couple of backup quarterbacks named Brady and Grogan. That's Shawn Brady and Tyler Grogan, son of legendary Patriots quarterback Steve Grogan.
The young Grogan debuted as a wide receiver and was named MVP of the team's inaugural game, March 24, against the Rochester Raiders. As a kid, he tossed the ball in the backyard with his tough-as-nails father, then watched him hit receivers Russ Francis and Stanley Morgan with perfect passes on game day.
But, the disparity in the quality of play aside, there's a big difference between conventional football and the eclectic CIFL. NFL players have the luxury of running out of bounds, but the CIFL plays on a 50-yard-long-by-25-yard-wide hockey rink covered with artificial turf. The boards are in bounds. Last Saturday night, Grogan, playing with a sprained ankle that was the color of an angry sky, attempted a corner catch against the Lehigh Valley (Pa.) Outlawz and was smashed into and over the boards. Both players landed hard on the concrete as cheerleaders scattered and the ball bounced loose.
Just like a Grogan, he stayed in the game.
"You've got to be aware -- you hit 'em wrong, you're going to hear a ringing bell," says Grogan, 27, who was a punter at Northeastern and tried out for NFL Europa before making the final roster of the Manchester Wolves in arenafootball2 last year.
Steve Grogan acknowledges a combination of nerves and pride watching his son. "Like any father, I worry a little, but he's old enough to take care of himself," he says.
The elder Grogan says the indoor arena game is tough to compare to outside football, or even eight-on-eight arena football.
"I don't know what level you compare it to," he says. "It's fast and it's seven on seven and high scoring up and down the field. Guys get drilled on the boards and the crowd loves it. There's still some good athletes. All the guys played college ball."
There was no satisfaction early for the Surge as they lost three of their first four games. But on April 24, owner Roy Lucas Jr. fired coach Rick Buffington -- a former Patriots assistant under Ron Erhardt -- after a 38-35 loss to the Chicago Slaughter before 2,079 fans at the DCU Center.
Lucas, 44, who played Division 3 football for Bethel University, one year of semipro ball, and had a tryout with the Dallas Cowboys, took over the coaching reins. Although he had coached at Assumption and Curry, he had no head coaching experience.
He cited "philosophical differences" for Buffington's abrupt dismissal, but one Surge staff member confirmed that a "possible mutiny" was the real reason. "He was a dictator," the staffer said.
Lucas -- a street-smart inner-city Worcester native -- says he deals with problems in a new way: mellow and spiritual. "Notice, we hug a lot," he says.
The hugs are working. The Surge have won their last three to move into third place in the Atlantic Division with a 4-3 record.
"I wish them luck," says Buffington, who says a lawsuit may be pending. "I just want them to settle my three-year commitment. Lucas came after me and practically begged me to take the job. I set things up and I'm glad they are winning."
And they are winning in convincing fashion. Against the Outlawz, the Surge raced to a 35-0 second-quarter lead before coasting to a 53-23 victory. In the locker room after the game, an exuberant Lucas turned down the stereo to address the troops.
"This team can win the championship," he shouted.
A few of the New England players have NFL experience, and some are being scouted by the NFL, the Canadian Football League, and the Arena Football League.
"It's a very fast-paced, explosive game," Lucas contends. "It's like baseball Double A or low-level Triple A. Plus it's local -- 70 percent of our players are from New England and all of them played college ball."
"Nobody wants to take the bus," Lucas says. "We're running a franchise that's spending $600,000 and there's some times you've got to do things you don't want to do. That's part of life."
So they took a 14-hour bus ride with no DVD player to Ohio. Then they stomped the Stampede, 43-30, for their second straight road victory.
"You do what you have to do to get to the next level," Lucas says. "The key is when you are able to deal with adversity and still come out with a decisive victory. It tells something about the character of the team."
Fullback/defensive end Harold Shaw, who played for the Patriots from 1998-2000, says the main difference between the NFL and the CIFL is money. The top pay is $500 per game, including incentive bonuses. "It's not like the NFL," Shaw says. "It's quicker. Everything is closer. It's one step and go."
Shaw adds that "practices are more relaxed" because everybody works during the day. Shaw works at Youth Opportunities Upheld (Y.O.U.) Inc., a nonprofit social service group that works with Central Massachusetts youth and their families.
"Right now it's more rewarding than football," he says. "It's about giving back. It's a working-man's sport."
That's for sure. Jeremy Collins, a wide receiver and defensive back, is a Cambridge firefighter; Tyler Grogan works at Grogan-Marciano Sporting Goods in Mansfield; Emerson Kilgore, who played for Syracuse in the 1999 Orange Bowl, is vice principal at Providence Tides High School; and Aaron Hairston is a computer engineer.
Sometimes that causes problems for these weekend warriors.
Last Wednesday, starting quarterback Marc Eddy was not at practice. He was busy showing people the money. The Bentley graduate is the manager of
"The bank is my first priority," Eddy says. "I have a wife and two kids and bills to pay. If I miss a practice, that's just the way it is."
And that's OK with Coach Lucas.
If I was [Bill] Belichick, I would probably have a $2 million stipend and [Eddy] would have a multiyear contract," Lucas says. "But unfortunately, I'm not Belichick, and he's not Tom Brady."
Eddy showed a lot of Brady's cool under pressure, tossing seven touchdown passes against Lehigh Valley. "All of us dream about playing in the NFL and being in the right place at the right time," he says.
Lucas says a good time is guaranteed. Although 5,000 showed up for the Surge's home opener, they've drawn less than half that number for each of the last two games.
"You go down to Gillette [Stadium], the parking is $30," Lucas says. "Here, you can get two tickets for a Surge game for the price of parking. And we are family friendly."
They currently have 300-400 season ticket-holders who paid $110-$165 for the six home games.
"We're not yet making money," says Lucas. "We need to average 2,660, but people are excited about it."
Once inside, an enterprising ticket-holder has a fair chance of getting a souvenir football. Unlike Patriots games, there are no nets extended for the extra point or field goals.
Fans are allowed to keep balls kicked or tossed into the stands, creating a circus atmosphere in the end zone seats.
Cheerleaders toss 100 green rubber footballs into the stands, and the team mascot, Sergio, tosses 100 T-shirts throughout the stands. On the field, the chain crew has nowhere to stand, so they simply lay down the markers and retreat 10 yards behind the quarterback. There are no TV timeouts and no inclement weather. Rock music is played continuously and offense rules.
"In the NFL, once in a while you get a 3-0 game," says Tyler Grogan. "Here there's not going to be a shutout -- you're going to see 60-70 points."
In their first seven games, the Surge averaged 43 points while giving up 33. The league average is more than 80 points per game.
"Every QB can throw one end to another," says Lehigh Valley coach Jim DePaul. "It favors the offense to a point."
The crowd is tough. They boo a mother on Mother's Day weekend who fails to kick a point-after attempt at halftime to win a gift certificate.
After the game, players, cheerleaders, and the team mascot mill around and sign autographs and pose for pictures for a half-hour.
Jeffrey Laflamme, 12, is asked by a reporter about the Surge game. He doesn't answer. His focus is on McKenzie, one of the Surge cheerleaders who is signing autographs for kids.
"He's more into the cheerleaders," says his mother, giggling. "I don't think he watched the ball get thrown once."![]()