This guy was absolutely dominating on the OL in the '70s. It's great to see that he's making a difference in his life now, after hitting rock bottom.
daytondailynews.com
Chris Ward is on a mission
By Doug Harris
Dayton Daily News
As a former Ohio State All-American football player, Chris Ward was always taught to be strong. But he never found lasting satisfaction in life until the day he learned to be weak.
The Dayton native was the New York Jets' first-round draft choice in 1978 — the fourth pick overall — and played in the NFL for seven years. But as his career was ending, his marriage dissolving and his world falling apart, the hulking offensive tackle called out in desperation for spiritual help.
Watching TV after a night of carousing in New Orleans nearly 20 years ago, having ended his playing days with the Saints, Ward was pierced by a message from evangelist Jimmy Swaggart.
"He pointed at me and said, 'You're drunk, and you've been boozing and womanizing. You're miserable and need to give your life to the Lord,' " Ward said. "I changed the channel and went to sleep. But when I woke up the next day, Jimmy Swaggart was still on TV pointing at me.
"I broke down. I said, 'I can't run any more.' And I said the prayer (of repentance) right in the front room."
Ward would become an ordained preacher and now runs an outreach ministry for inner-city youth based in Inglewood, Calif. But he had to go through severe testing before he could bear fruit.
In the early 1990s, after his adoptive parents passed away, Ward felt led to close his small financial-services business in Dayton and pack his bags for Los Angeles. With no job prospects and not so much as a single lead, Ward left in blind faith. But he exhausted his savings through six weeks of hotel stays, and he ended up living on the streets.
Although he admitted indulging in cocaine and other drugs before his spiritual awakening, he had been sober for years before becoming homeless. Ward believes his circumstances were part of a divine plan.
He needed to be humbled before he could be equipped to serve.
"When you play in the NFL and live in New York, you're living like the richest one percent of the world," he said. "Until you've been where those people have been, you can't really feel what those people feel."
Ward, who signed a six-year, $500,000 contract as an NFL rookie, said he lived out of his 1976 Cadillac for three and a half years, never once being able to stretch out his 6-foot-4 frame.
He fasted extensively, and his weight dropped from his post-football 350 pounds to 237. He bathed at an Inglewood recreation center.
"I'd work out in the morning and then shower and shave," he said. "Nobody ever knew.
"One guy asked me where I was living, and I told him I was living out of my car. He thought I was playing with him. I opened my trunk and showed him. His mouth fell open."
Line coach impressed
Bill Myles was an offensive line coach at Nebraska when he was lured to Ohio State by the legendary Woody Hayes before Ward's senior year in 1977.
As part of his recruiting pitch, Hayes gave Myles a glimpse of the sculpted Patterson High School product.
"Coach Hayes preened him by me when he was trying to get me to come here," Myles said. "He was a fantastic-looking guy. I didn't have anyone who looked like him at Nebraska."
The 275-pound Ward, who already had earned All-Big Ten honors twice, was clocked in the 40-yard dash in a nimble 4.75 seconds. And Myles never had coached a player with such raw strength and speed.
"He was just physically overpowering," said Myles, who coached tackles and tight ends for the Buckeyes through 1985. "He had very quick feet for his size. The most important step in blocking is the second step, and he would take his second step before the other guy could take his. And he'd knock people off the ball."
The results often were devastating.
"I have a practice film of him — it's still in my garage — where he hit a guy so hard he knocked him right out of his shoe," Myles said.
Ward never called on his OSU contacts while he was destitute. His coaches learned he had bottomed out, but they didn't know how to reach him or how to help.
"He was in our prayers," said Myles, now an associate athletic director at OSU in charge of nine sports. "And I always thought Chris would find a way out. He was a winner."
During his long period in the wilderness, Ward managed to work toward his ordination while ministering to transients and anyone else within his reach.
He then received an invitation to speak at a vibrant church, and he cut the congregation to the core with a convicting message. He left the altar that day with a sense that his financial hardships were over.
"God said to me, 'I have sealed your blessing. It's done. From this day on, you are my man and nobody can touch you,' " Ward recalled, his booming voice breaking with emotion. "He said, 'From this day forward, people are going to come to give you money to get off the street.' "
Ward said that a woman approached him the next day with a donation, the first of many charitable gifts.
He soon launched a church and founded Ward International Ministries. In addition to running after-school Bible studies, he teaches career skills and offers job opportunities for at-risk kids.
He has scores of student leaders working for him, and they hold frequent evangelical events in gang-infested communities. Ward said his teams can count about 2,000 Christian conversions this summer.
"He's a definite icon in this city," said Dr. Loystene Irvin, an Inglewood city commissioner.
Irvin recalls how Ward helped diffuse a clash between 200 gang members at an inner-city school.
"He's a dynamic, powerful, energized person that's excited about his mission and vision," Irvin said.
Adoption news hurts
Ward's motivation is fueled in part by a sense that he's on borrowed time. He was born in Cleveland but was abandoned by his parents, left in a dumpster to die.
He was saved by a children's services agency. An elderly couple was awarded custody and moved to Dayton when Ward was an infant.
He didn't learn he was adopted until he was 12. The truth caused him great grief, but it's given him compassion for others who feel discarded.
Ward, who turns 50 in December and has since remarried, was a two-time All-American and played on OSU teams that won four straight Big Ten titles.
The Buckeyes had a 38-5-1 regular-season record during Ward's four years, but they blew a chance to win a national title in 1975. Undefeated and ranked No. 1, they lost to UCLA in the Rose Bowl, 23-10, after having routed the Bruins earlier that year.
The setback still gnaws at Ward.
"That was the greatest accumulation of athletes I ever played with," he said, recalling a backfield that included Archie Griffin, Pete Johnson and Cornelius Greene. "Man, that's the one where we should have won the national championship."
Griffin captured the Heisman Trophy in 1974 and '75 and believes Ward deserves much of the credit.
"He was awesome," Griffin said. "When he came to Ohio State, you knew right away he was going to be a difference-maker. Woody was very, very high on him. He played a lot as a freshman and did a great job.
"He was a big fella — fast and quick off the ball."
The former teammates lost track of each other over the years but reconnected when the Buckeyes played at UCLA in 2001.
Griffin, the president of the OSU alumni association, was inspired by Ward's ability to pull himself from the depths.
"It's a testimony to the type of person he is to be able to endure that," Griffin said. "It's a testimony to his faith."
Ward, who still drives the '76 Cadillac that once served as his living quarters, was named to the Buckeyes' All-Century team chosen by the Touchdown Club of Columbus in 2000.
He proudly wears the ring distributed to members of the squad, but he reminds himself that worldly acclaim is fleeting.
"God showed me how futile it could be to have stuff and not be gratified," he said.
"I have my life's purpose now, and it's so fulfilling."
<!--endtext-->
daytondailynews.com
Chris Ward is on a mission
By Doug Harris
Dayton Daily News
As a former Ohio State All-American football player, Chris Ward was always taught to be strong. But he never found lasting satisfaction in life until the day he learned to be weak.
The Dayton native was the New York Jets' first-round draft choice in 1978 — the fourth pick overall — and played in the NFL for seven years. But as his career was ending, his marriage dissolving and his world falling apart, the hulking offensive tackle called out in desperation for spiritual help.
Watching TV after a night of carousing in New Orleans nearly 20 years ago, having ended his playing days with the Saints, Ward was pierced by a message from evangelist Jimmy Swaggart.
"He pointed at me and said, 'You're drunk, and you've been boozing and womanizing. You're miserable and need to give your life to the Lord,' " Ward said. "I changed the channel and went to sleep. But when I woke up the next day, Jimmy Swaggart was still on TV pointing at me.
"I broke down. I said, 'I can't run any more.' And I said the prayer (of repentance) right in the front room."
Ward would become an ordained preacher and now runs an outreach ministry for inner-city youth based in Inglewood, Calif. But he had to go through severe testing before he could bear fruit.
In the early 1990s, after his adoptive parents passed away, Ward felt led to close his small financial-services business in Dayton and pack his bags for Los Angeles. With no job prospects and not so much as a single lead, Ward left in blind faith. But he exhausted his savings through six weeks of hotel stays, and he ended up living on the streets.
Although he admitted indulging in cocaine and other drugs before his spiritual awakening, he had been sober for years before becoming homeless. Ward believes his circumstances were part of a divine plan.
He needed to be humbled before he could be equipped to serve.
"When you play in the NFL and live in New York, you're living like the richest one percent of the world," he said. "Until you've been where those people have been, you can't really feel what those people feel."
Ward, who signed a six-year, $500,000 contract as an NFL rookie, said he lived out of his 1976 Cadillac for three and a half years, never once being able to stretch out his 6-foot-4 frame.
He fasted extensively, and his weight dropped from his post-football 350 pounds to 237. He bathed at an Inglewood recreation center.
"I'd work out in the morning and then shower and shave," he said. "Nobody ever knew.
"One guy asked me where I was living, and I told him I was living out of my car. He thought I was playing with him. I opened my trunk and showed him. His mouth fell open."
Line coach impressed
Bill Myles was an offensive line coach at Nebraska when he was lured to Ohio State by the legendary Woody Hayes before Ward's senior year in 1977.
As part of his recruiting pitch, Hayes gave Myles a glimpse of the sculpted Patterson High School product.
"Coach Hayes preened him by me when he was trying to get me to come here," Myles said. "He was a fantastic-looking guy. I didn't have anyone who looked like him at Nebraska."
The 275-pound Ward, who already had earned All-Big Ten honors twice, was clocked in the 40-yard dash in a nimble 4.75 seconds. And Myles never had coached a player with such raw strength and speed.
"He was just physically overpowering," said Myles, who coached tackles and tight ends for the Buckeyes through 1985. "He had very quick feet for his size. The most important step in blocking is the second step, and he would take his second step before the other guy could take his. And he'd knock people off the ball."
The results often were devastating.
"I have a practice film of him — it's still in my garage — where he hit a guy so hard he knocked him right out of his shoe," Myles said.
Ward never called on his OSU contacts while he was destitute. His coaches learned he had bottomed out, but they didn't know how to reach him or how to help.
"He was in our prayers," said Myles, now an associate athletic director at OSU in charge of nine sports. "And I always thought Chris would find a way out. He was a winner."
During his long period in the wilderness, Ward managed to work toward his ordination while ministering to transients and anyone else within his reach.
He then received an invitation to speak at a vibrant church, and he cut the congregation to the core with a convicting message. He left the altar that day with a sense that his financial hardships were over.
"God said to me, 'I have sealed your blessing. It's done. From this day on, you are my man and nobody can touch you,' " Ward recalled, his booming voice breaking with emotion. "He said, 'From this day forward, people are going to come to give you money to get off the street.' "
Ward said that a woman approached him the next day with a donation, the first of many charitable gifts.
He soon launched a church and founded Ward International Ministries. In addition to running after-school Bible studies, he teaches career skills and offers job opportunities for at-risk kids.
He has scores of student leaders working for him, and they hold frequent evangelical events in gang-infested communities. Ward said his teams can count about 2,000 Christian conversions this summer.
"He's a definite icon in this city," said Dr. Loystene Irvin, an Inglewood city commissioner.
Irvin recalls how Ward helped diffuse a clash between 200 gang members at an inner-city school.
"He's a dynamic, powerful, energized person that's excited about his mission and vision," Irvin said.
Adoption news hurts
Ward's motivation is fueled in part by a sense that he's on borrowed time. He was born in Cleveland but was abandoned by his parents, left in a dumpster to die.
He was saved by a children's services agency. An elderly couple was awarded custody and moved to Dayton when Ward was an infant.
He didn't learn he was adopted until he was 12. The truth caused him great grief, but it's given him compassion for others who feel discarded.
Ward, who turns 50 in December and has since remarried, was a two-time All-American and played on OSU teams that won four straight Big Ten titles.
The Buckeyes had a 38-5-1 regular-season record during Ward's four years, but they blew a chance to win a national title in 1975. Undefeated and ranked No. 1, they lost to UCLA in the Rose Bowl, 23-10, after having routed the Bruins earlier that year.
The setback still gnaws at Ward.
"That was the greatest accumulation of athletes I ever played with," he said, recalling a backfield that included Archie Griffin, Pete Johnson and Cornelius Greene. "Man, that's the one where we should have won the national championship."
Griffin captured the Heisman Trophy in 1974 and '75 and believes Ward deserves much of the credit.
"He was awesome," Griffin said. "When he came to Ohio State, you knew right away he was going to be a difference-maker. Woody was very, very high on him. He played a lot as a freshman and did a great job.
"He was a big fella — fast and quick off the ball."
The former teammates lost track of each other over the years but reconnected when the Buckeyes played at UCLA in 2001.
Griffin, the president of the OSU alumni association, was inspired by Ward's ability to pull himself from the depths.
"It's a testimony to the type of person he is to be able to endure that," Griffin said. "It's a testimony to his faith."
Ward, who still drives the '76 Cadillac that once served as his living quarters, was named to the Buckeyes' All-Century team chosen by the Touchdown Club of Columbus in 2000.
He proudly wears the ring distributed to members of the squad, but he reminds himself that worldly acclaim is fleeting.
"God showed me how futile it could be to have stuff and not be gratified," he said.
"I have my life's purpose now, and it's so fulfilling."
<!--endtext-->
