"Put in da fullback!": Jon Witman never verbally committed to PSU; Joe Paterno just pretended he did -- and it worked!
Posted March 05, 2018 at 05:59 AM | Updated March 05, 2018 at 06:01 AM
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Former Penn State and Steelers fullback Jon Witman has had a challenging past few years after a wrecked back and an addiction to opioid pain meds made him all but dysfunctional. But with the help of stem cell treatment, he seems to be emerging back to a normal, healthy life.
Facebook/Jon Witman
He came to Penn State without ever really officially committing. He became a fullback instead of a linebacker almost by accident. And he ended up playing six years for the Pittsburgh Steelers at a position that’s largely not in evidence anymore.
For a man whose running style was as straight-line Point A-to-Point B as possible, Jon Witman’s football life has often been serendipitous as an autumn leaf in the breeze.
But it also has taken a toll that the Eastern York native has paid more than fully and on which he’s still making installments. The game and the style with which he played wrecked his back and caused him searing pain. Opioid meds nearly cost him his life and did tear it apart for a time. But he seems to be piecing it back together the best way he knows how thanks to intensive drug rehab and physical therapy.
Here’s the first segment of a 2-part interview with the starting fullback on the powerhouse 1994 Nittany Lion team that went undefeated. Along with his previously profiled roommate Brian Milne, Witman manned the lead-blocking backfield position for All-America feature back Ki-Jana Carter.
He was everything you could ask for at the position – big, fast, tough and fearless. His willingness to stick his face in the eye of the scrimmage storm has cost him plenty. Still, he suggests he wouldn’t have been comfortable playing any other way. And further, he doesn’t quite cotton to the finesse-heavy game as it is two decades after his era. We’re going full-on caveman football here, so youngin's, be advised.
Penn State fullback Jon Witman (38) leaps into the end zone past Ohio State defender Greg Bellisari (30) for a two-yard touchdown in first quarter of game at State College on Saturday, Oct. 7, 1995.
AP/Craig Houtz
Why did Jon Witman come to Penn State in the first place? Well, pretty much because Joe Paterno acted like he was already there. And Witman didn’t correct him. It was the ultimate self-fulfilling prophecy. Either that or a trick the old coach had perfected.
Witman had been thinking seriously about West Virginia. He’d very much enjoyed his visit there and his father Keith had become excited about WVU, too. Don Nehlen was in the middle of a very successful coaching tenure that included a 1988 national title game appearance three seasons before.
Culminating Witman’s subsequent official visit to PSU in 1991 was a dinner at the Nittany Lion Inn. When Paterno approached the Witmans’ table, he greeted them and then acted as if Jon had already committed:
“Joe came over, shook my hand and said, ‘Welcome to the Penn State family. We’re glad you’re aboard at Penn State. We can’t wait to have you here. See you in a couple of months.’ Like I already signed.
“I said, OK. Guess I’m going to Penn State.”
Wait a minute. What? Witman hadn’t committed.
“How am I gonna say no?”
Keith Witman was not exactly doing back flips:
“After the party, he came to me upset, like, ‘I thought we were gonna talk about this first.’ I was like, ‘Dad, I didn’t say nothing to anybody about anything. I didn’t make a commitment. Joe just thinks I’m going, I guess.’ Anyway, that’s how it went.”
Witman just sort of went along with it. And so began one half of the best blocking-back tandem Penn State ever had; Brian Milne of Erie had committed in the same class.
What was it like being a fullback in 1990s? Witman loved it.
“The receivers were doing their agility stuff in practice. Other [position groups] were doing their things. But we knew every day we were going head-on with somebody – live. That’s just the way it was.”
Witman would go against Terry Killens, Brian Gelzheiser and Gerald Filardi, among others.
“We were in full pads every day. Even in the pros, they don’t do that anymore. There are no full pads.”
Fellow fullback Brian Milne (22) congratulates Witman (38) after his touchdown in the third quarter of the 1995 Texas Tech game began a comeback from a 20-7 deficit to beat the Red Raiders in Beaver Stadium.
Is that a good thing?
“I guess it has to be. With people getting hurt all the time and being out.”
But then, Witman couldn’t help but hedge:
“I don’t know. I’m old school. I was all about going live. It’s just not the same without having the pads on. I don’t know how prepared you can be.
“These guys now just practice with helmets. But I’ve never done it. I was always in pads. I don’t think I could have done it.”
Witman wasn’t simply a running back in high school at Eastern York. Even though he was a tremendous overall athlete, he was known as the battering ram type:
“I was known to be the meathead who ran straight ahead and ran people over.”
Coaches loved those guys because it wasn’t simply about the yardage they gained. It was about the physical and emotional damage they inflicted. They broke the will and sometimes the bodies of defenders.
Witman was such a well-rounded athlete, he could have played just about any position on a football field. I covered him winning the 1991 PIAA Class AA long jump gold medal with a leap of 21’-9”. On the Eastern York track and field team he once won four events during a dual meet including the triple jump, long jump, shot put and anchor leg of the 400-yard relay. Find that track quadruple and I’ll show you a potentially great football player.
Witman was actually recruited to Penn State as a linebacker. But wasn’t everybody, right?
“I got lucky my sophomore year because we had no fullbacks left. Brian [Milne] was still recovering from his cancer. I was the only one who had experience. So, they tried me out there and I stayed there and never left.
“I wasn’t afraid, man. I just got up in there and hit people and used my head. If you didn’t go in there 100 percent looking to knock somebody’s head off, you weren’t playing.”
Jon Witman (38) during a Pittsburgh Steelers game in 2002. He played six years for the NFL club.
AP/Gene J. Puskar
Witman was a big fan of offensive coordinator/running backs coach Fran Ganter – and vice versa:
“Fran was the closest with us. He took us under his wing. He took care of us.
“He’s the one we saw every day, the one we actually talked one-on-one with every day.
“I’ll tell you, I was there four years and I might have had one-on-one conversations with Joe maybe a handful of times.
“But, we got personal with Franny. He was a good guy. He was down-to-earth. We wouldn’t just talk about football but family, school. He was multidimensional.”
Witman must have been a hell of a teammate to hang with and talk to. He’s the perfect football personality, the kind of guy who loves to play and lets everyone know it, who you love having on your team for just that reason. And you hate just as much going against him if he’s on the other side, partly because you know the other guys are probably having a little more fun.
Witman was born in 1972, the child of a 21-year-old Vietnam-Marine father who worked 30 years as a mechanic at the York Harley-Davidson plant and a 17-year-old mother. Keith Witman just died three weeks ago at age 66, the complications of the defoliant “Agent Orange” corroding his body. As Witman tells it, growing up with such young parents was great:
“It was actually awesome growing up.”
He recounted a party at his father’s house on the first day of the 1996 NFL Draft. Because nobody really expected Jon would be drafted until the second day (rounds 4-7), he partook of some adult beverages. When it got late, his father decided to take a drunken reveler home. When the Steelers called to say they’d selected him in the third round, “I was trashed out of my mind throwing horseshoes. My dad found out by reading the ESPN ribbon on the bottom of a TV.”
Jon Witman (38) carries against the Detroit Lions at the Pontiac Silverdome on Nov. 26, 1998.
AP photo
What’s become of the fullback position? Witman said he just happened to be talking about exactly that with another old PSU and NFL fullback, Sam Gash:
“It’s hard to even watch Penn State. Because you’re so in tune with the blood-and-guts and just beating people down it used to be. And seeing all this fancy s--- now, it sucks.”
Now, there’s a take you don’t hear much anymore. I had to laugh.
“The thing is, though, a guy like me? I never would’ve made it to the NFL nowadays. Too small to be a tight end, too slow to be a running back.”
At this point, I had to egg Witman on and tell him how much I love the current style. He didn’t mind:
“I can’t stand it, man. This fast-paced stuff. I just don’t like watching it.”
But why?
“I look at football as being a controlled war. It’s about whoever has the most guts. Who’s actually the most physical team here? I don’t know if it’s about physicality anymore, man.”
I contended that what he really liked was trench warfare. If it’s a ground-acquisition war board game, that’s like limiting it to artillery and eliminating a great air power.
“You’re right. But I just like seeing a lead fullback going one-on-one against that damn linebacker. Know what I mean? I just like seeing those mano-a-mano hits.”
But why?
“I look at football as being a controlled war. It’s about whoever has the most guts. Who’s actually the most physical team here? I don’t know if it’s about physicality anymore, man.”
I contended that what he really liked was trench warfare. If it’s a ground-acquisition war board game, that’s like limiting it to artillery and eliminating a great air power.
“You’re right. But I just like seeing a lead fullback going one-on-one against that damn linebacker. Know what I mean? I just like seeing those mano-a-mano hits.”
Jon Witman played for the Steelers from 1996 to 2001 before retiring.
AP photo
For a fullback 20 years ago, the antagonist was a linebacker, often the mike. And the result can’t always be a win. There’s no scoreboard in these individual battles but both combatants know down deep who came out on top or if it was something close to a draw.
“There was always a guy, man, that I made sure my chinstrap was tighter and my shoulder pads were set straight. Because I knew I was gonna have a frickin’ battle.”
I asked Witman for a couple of names of guys he didn’t always win against. He eventually mentioned Bryan Cox and Ray Lewis, unsurprising responses.
But his first answer I found more interesting: “Zach Thomas.”
Witman wasn’t the only one. The Texas Tech grad and 13-year pro, 11 with the Miami Dolphins, was a 5-time first-team All-Pro.
Witman and Thomas didn’t only meet in the NFL. They actually faced off in a memorable match at Beaver Stadium, a 24-23 Penn State win over Texas Tech. That’s the first time either of us saw Zach Thomas and I know I was amazed because he played so powerfully for his size. Thomas should be a Pro Football Hall of Famer and may be someday. It’s mystifying that he hasn’t really come close on four ballots.
Maybe it’s his unimposing size – 5-10 and 245. Which is a dumb reason.
“He was a freakin’ bowling ball, dude!” marveled Witman. “I’m 6-2 and I always had a problem with him ‘cause I could never get under his ass. He was a great middle linebacker.”
So, the same question I asked his old buddy Milne: Are the current offenses cyclical or will raw power return? More specifically, is the fullback extinct or can it find a use?
“Man, I don’t know if it’ll ever make a true comeback. They got the two speedy tailbacks shuttling in and out nowadays. I don’t see it coming back. I’d like to see it make a turn, but I just don’t see it. The evolution is going to pure passing. And it’s very effective.
“I’m hoping that defenses get this stuff locked down and then somebody says, ‘Let’s go back and do some pounding, see what happens. It could take its turn.
“That’s my hope. That’s my thinking. But who am I? I’m a simple-living man.”
More laughter, both of us.
On Friday, we’ll chronicle a slice of Witman’s life after retirement, one in which there was no humor – his dependence on opioid pain medication, his two-month stay in a Florida rehab clinic and his cold-turkey fight to escape addiction.
Posted March 05, 2018 at 05:59 AM | Updated March 05, 2018 at 06:01 AM
1share
0 Comment
Former Penn State and Steelers fullback Jon Witman has had a challenging past few years after a wrecked back and an addiction to opioid pain meds made him all but dysfunctional. But with the help of stem cell treatment, he seems to be emerging back to a normal, healthy life.
Facebook/Jon Witman
He came to Penn State without ever really officially committing. He became a fullback instead of a linebacker almost by accident. And he ended up playing six years for the Pittsburgh Steelers at a position that’s largely not in evidence anymore.
For a man whose running style was as straight-line Point A-to-Point B as possible, Jon Witman’s football life has often been serendipitous as an autumn leaf in the breeze.
But it also has taken a toll that the Eastern York native has paid more than fully and on which he’s still making installments. The game and the style with which he played wrecked his back and caused him searing pain. Opioid meds nearly cost him his life and did tear it apart for a time. But he seems to be piecing it back together the best way he knows how thanks to intensive drug rehab and physical therapy.
Here’s the first segment of a 2-part interview with the starting fullback on the powerhouse 1994 Nittany Lion team that went undefeated. Along with his previously profiled roommate Brian Milne, Witman manned the lead-blocking backfield position for All-America feature back Ki-Jana Carter.
He was everything you could ask for at the position – big, fast, tough and fearless. His willingness to stick his face in the eye of the scrimmage storm has cost him plenty. Still, he suggests he wouldn’t have been comfortable playing any other way. And further, he doesn’t quite cotton to the finesse-heavy game as it is two decades after his era. We’re going full-on caveman football here, so youngin's, be advised.
Penn State fullback Jon Witman (38) leaps into the end zone past Ohio State defender Greg Bellisari (30) for a two-yard touchdown in first quarter of game at State College on Saturday, Oct. 7, 1995.
AP/Craig Houtz
Why did Jon Witman come to Penn State in the first place? Well, pretty much because Joe Paterno acted like he was already there. And Witman didn’t correct him. It was the ultimate self-fulfilling prophecy. Either that or a trick the old coach had perfected.
Witman had been thinking seriously about West Virginia. He’d very much enjoyed his visit there and his father Keith had become excited about WVU, too. Don Nehlen was in the middle of a very successful coaching tenure that included a 1988 national title game appearance three seasons before.
Culminating Witman’s subsequent official visit to PSU in 1991 was a dinner at the Nittany Lion Inn. When Paterno approached the Witmans’ table, he greeted them and then acted as if Jon had already committed:
“Joe came over, shook my hand and said, ‘Welcome to the Penn State family. We’re glad you’re aboard at Penn State. We can’t wait to have you here. See you in a couple of months.’ Like I already signed.
“I said, OK. Guess I’m going to Penn State.”
Wait a minute. What? Witman hadn’t committed.
“How am I gonna say no?”
Keith Witman was not exactly doing back flips:
“After the party, he came to me upset, like, ‘I thought we were gonna talk about this first.’ I was like, ‘Dad, I didn’t say nothing to anybody about anything. I didn’t make a commitment. Joe just thinks I’m going, I guess.’ Anyway, that’s how it went.”
Witman just sort of went along with it. And so began one half of the best blocking-back tandem Penn State ever had; Brian Milne of Erie had committed in the same class.
What was it like being a fullback in 1990s? Witman loved it.
“The receivers were doing their agility stuff in practice. Other [position groups] were doing their things. But we knew every day we were going head-on with somebody – live. That’s just the way it was.”
Witman would go against Terry Killens, Brian Gelzheiser and Gerald Filardi, among others.
“We were in full pads every day. Even in the pros, they don’t do that anymore. There are no full pads.”
Fellow fullback Brian Milne (22) congratulates Witman (38) after his touchdown in the third quarter of the 1995 Texas Tech game began a comeback from a 20-7 deficit to beat the Red Raiders in Beaver Stadium.
Is that a good thing?
“I guess it has to be. With people getting hurt all the time and being out.”
But then, Witman couldn’t help but hedge:
“I don’t know. I’m old school. I was all about going live. It’s just not the same without having the pads on. I don’t know how prepared you can be.
“These guys now just practice with helmets. But I’ve never done it. I was always in pads. I don’t think I could have done it.”
Witman wasn’t simply a running back in high school at Eastern York. Even though he was a tremendous overall athlete, he was known as the battering ram type:
“I was known to be the meathead who ran straight ahead and ran people over.”
Coaches loved those guys because it wasn’t simply about the yardage they gained. It was about the physical and emotional damage they inflicted. They broke the will and sometimes the bodies of defenders.
Witman was such a well-rounded athlete, he could have played just about any position on a football field. I covered him winning the 1991 PIAA Class AA long jump gold medal with a leap of 21’-9”. On the Eastern York track and field team he once won four events during a dual meet including the triple jump, long jump, shot put and anchor leg of the 400-yard relay. Find that track quadruple and I’ll show you a potentially great football player.
Witman was actually recruited to Penn State as a linebacker. But wasn’t everybody, right?
“I got lucky my sophomore year because we had no fullbacks left. Brian [Milne] was still recovering from his cancer. I was the only one who had experience. So, they tried me out there and I stayed there and never left.
“I wasn’t afraid, man. I just got up in there and hit people and used my head. If you didn’t go in there 100 percent looking to knock somebody’s head off, you weren’t playing.”
Jon Witman (38) during a Pittsburgh Steelers game in 2002. He played six years for the NFL club.
AP/Gene J. Puskar
Witman was a big fan of offensive coordinator/running backs coach Fran Ganter – and vice versa:
“Fran was the closest with us. He took us under his wing. He took care of us.
“He’s the one we saw every day, the one we actually talked one-on-one with every day.
“I’ll tell you, I was there four years and I might have had one-on-one conversations with Joe maybe a handful of times.
“But, we got personal with Franny. He was a good guy. He was down-to-earth. We wouldn’t just talk about football but family, school. He was multidimensional.”
Witman must have been a hell of a teammate to hang with and talk to. He’s the perfect football personality, the kind of guy who loves to play and lets everyone know it, who you love having on your team for just that reason. And you hate just as much going against him if he’s on the other side, partly because you know the other guys are probably having a little more fun.
Witman was born in 1972, the child of a 21-year-old Vietnam-Marine father who worked 30 years as a mechanic at the York Harley-Davidson plant and a 17-year-old mother. Keith Witman just died three weeks ago at age 66, the complications of the defoliant “Agent Orange” corroding his body. As Witman tells it, growing up with such young parents was great:
“It was actually awesome growing up.”
He recounted a party at his father’s house on the first day of the 1996 NFL Draft. Because nobody really expected Jon would be drafted until the second day (rounds 4-7), he partook of some adult beverages. When it got late, his father decided to take a drunken reveler home. When the Steelers called to say they’d selected him in the third round, “I was trashed out of my mind throwing horseshoes. My dad found out by reading the ESPN ribbon on the bottom of a TV.”
Jon Witman (38) carries against the Detroit Lions at the Pontiac Silverdome on Nov. 26, 1998.
AP photo
What’s become of the fullback position? Witman said he just happened to be talking about exactly that with another old PSU and NFL fullback, Sam Gash:
“It’s hard to even watch Penn State. Because you’re so in tune with the blood-and-guts and just beating people down it used to be. And seeing all this fancy s--- now, it sucks.”
Now, there’s a take you don’t hear much anymore. I had to laugh.
“The thing is, though, a guy like me? I never would’ve made it to the NFL nowadays. Too small to be a tight end, too slow to be a running back.”
At this point, I had to egg Witman on and tell him how much I love the current style. He didn’t mind:
“I can’t stand it, man. This fast-paced stuff. I just don’t like watching it.”
But why?
“I look at football as being a controlled war. It’s about whoever has the most guts. Who’s actually the most physical team here? I don’t know if it’s about physicality anymore, man.”
I contended that what he really liked was trench warfare. If it’s a ground-acquisition war board game, that’s like limiting it to artillery and eliminating a great air power.
“You’re right. But I just like seeing a lead fullback going one-on-one against that damn linebacker. Know what I mean? I just like seeing those mano-a-mano hits.”
But why?
“I look at football as being a controlled war. It’s about whoever has the most guts. Who’s actually the most physical team here? I don’t know if it’s about physicality anymore, man.”
I contended that what he really liked was trench warfare. If it’s a ground-acquisition war board game, that’s like limiting it to artillery and eliminating a great air power.
“You’re right. But I just like seeing a lead fullback going one-on-one against that damn linebacker. Know what I mean? I just like seeing those mano-a-mano hits.”
Jon Witman played for the Steelers from 1996 to 2001 before retiring.
AP photo
For a fullback 20 years ago, the antagonist was a linebacker, often the mike. And the result can’t always be a win. There’s no scoreboard in these individual battles but both combatants know down deep who came out on top or if it was something close to a draw.
“There was always a guy, man, that I made sure my chinstrap was tighter and my shoulder pads were set straight. Because I knew I was gonna have a frickin’ battle.”
I asked Witman for a couple of names of guys he didn’t always win against. He eventually mentioned Bryan Cox and Ray Lewis, unsurprising responses.
But his first answer I found more interesting: “Zach Thomas.”
Witman wasn’t the only one. The Texas Tech grad and 13-year pro, 11 with the Miami Dolphins, was a 5-time first-team All-Pro.
Witman and Thomas didn’t only meet in the NFL. They actually faced off in a memorable match at Beaver Stadium, a 24-23 Penn State win over Texas Tech. That’s the first time either of us saw Zach Thomas and I know I was amazed because he played so powerfully for his size. Thomas should be a Pro Football Hall of Famer and may be someday. It’s mystifying that he hasn’t really come close on four ballots.
Maybe it’s his unimposing size – 5-10 and 245. Which is a dumb reason.
“He was a freakin’ bowling ball, dude!” marveled Witman. “I’m 6-2 and I always had a problem with him ‘cause I could never get under his ass. He was a great middle linebacker.”
So, the same question I asked his old buddy Milne: Are the current offenses cyclical or will raw power return? More specifically, is the fullback extinct or can it find a use?
“Man, I don’t know if it’ll ever make a true comeback. They got the two speedy tailbacks shuttling in and out nowadays. I don’t see it coming back. I’d like to see it make a turn, but I just don’t see it. The evolution is going to pure passing. And it’s very effective.
“I’m hoping that defenses get this stuff locked down and then somebody says, ‘Let’s go back and do some pounding, see what happens. It could take its turn.
“That’s my hope. That’s my thinking. But who am I? I’m a simple-living man.”
More laughter, both of us.
On Friday, we’ll chronicle a slice of Witman’s life after retirement, one in which there was no humor – his dependence on opioid pain medication, his two-month stay in a Florida rehab clinic and his cold-turkey fight to escape addiction.
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