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UNM football: Mission abroad helps Lobos freshman quarterback find focus

By Phill Casaus
Saturday, April 21, 2007

University of New Mexico freshman quarterback Blair Peterson, listed No. 3 on the spring depth chart, runs drills at Lobos practice. Blair, one of the top high school QBs out of Texas in 2004, joins the Lobos after a two-year Mormon mission.

Photo by Craig FritzTribune

Tribune

University of New Mexico freshman quarterback Blair Peterson, listed No. 3 on the spring depth chart, runs drills at Lobos practice. Blair, one of the top high school QBs out of Texas in 2004, joins the Lobos after a two-year Mormon mission.

Spring game

What: Cherry-Silver intrasquad scrimmage

When: May 2

Site: University Stadium

Game time: 6 p.m.

Admission: Free

On the air: KKOB-AM (770)

Snarling linebackers. Rabid rush ends. Unleashed safeties.

All those bad boys star in a quarterback's worst nightmares.

Blair Peterson, though, has seen worse and fears little - perhaps because when you've shared the sidewalk with real, spit-dripping carnivores, everything else pales in comparison.

"There were Rottweilers on our street that would just eat you alive," he said. "No joke. They'd warn us - `You've got to take this path to your house. Otherwise, there's a man-eating dog.' "

Only a few months removed from the ghettos of Buenos Aires, Argentina, Peterson happily enters the world of college athletics, where weird, man-bites-dog occurences - like a guy nearly three years removed from playing ball having a chance at a big role for the University of New Mexico football team - aren't so unthinkable.

Peterson, a UNM freshman, spent most of the past two years on a Mormon mission to some of Buenos Aires' poorest places, an unlikely trade-in for a guy who was one of Texas' best high school quarterbacks in 2004.

He acknowledges there were nights in the past two years when he'd look at the glittery scrabble in the sky and ask himself what he'd done - why he wasn't at some of the big Division I-A schools that looked at him in high school.

"You'd be running in the street, look up in the stars and you just think, `I left everything behind,' " he said.

"It's worth it," he continues, "but you don't forget about it. That was the thing that kept me going: You know what? One day, I'll put a helmet back on; one day, I'll strap on the pads again; one day, I'll be in that stadium. That was my motivation, to just keep going every day."

The desire to roll on has brought the 21-year-old Peterson to New Mexico, where the Lobos' callow kennel of quarterbacks has a clear top dog - Donovan Porterie - and a variety of others who must prove themselves worthy of being the top backup.

For now, Peterson, 6-foot-4, 210-pounds, is listed as third-string, behind senior Bryan Clampitt, though Peterson's upside - four years of eligibility, and an impressive family and prep pedigree - gives him a shot at moving up.

Peterson, the son of Seattle Seahawks scout and former college coach John Peterson, was raised in the family business, and it shows. He speaks at least three languages - English, Spanish, Pep Talk - although the rah-rah seems aimed at motivating himself, not calculated to impress others.

Some guys adorn their room with pinups and hip-hop; Peterson has a list of goals, plus keys to success, plus calendars that detail (not just sketch) exactly how he performed on any particular day.

Par-tay!

"The way I approach this is, today could be the day, and either I'm going to be prepared or I'm not," he explains. "If I'm not prepared then that's my fault. That's a regret I'll have. My thing is to have no regrets and always be prepared."

To do that, Peterson studies and visualizes. UNM offensive coordinator Dave Baldwin confirms the former; Peterson's always in the film room, focusing on nuance. As far as the latter, well, you'll have to take the kid's word for it.

But as you hear him talk about the game - spitting out split-second, almost digital progressions of a play and a quarterback's thoughts - it's clear he's been here before.

At least, mentally.

Physically, it's a different deal, and Peterson, who graduated from Churchill High School in football-mad San Antonio, doesn't dismiss his layoff from football as some niggling detail. His first day in pads on Wednesday brought this reaction: "Whoa, this is weird."

"Going three years without (throwing to) moving targets," said the left-hander, "is going to take some time."

But time has a different meaning now, after two years in places like La Tablada, one of Buenos Aires' poorest suburbs. Peterson, who'd get up at 3:30 in the morning to get in a run (preferably without canine escorts) before going out to talk about his faith, says he'd never trade the time he spent there.

"By far," he said, "the greatest experience of my life."

Why? In part, he said he's better for the perspective he gained. Argentina, for example, revealed to Peterson how much football means. So, when Baldwin tells him the backup quarterbacks will get hit this spring by bared-fanged Lobos defenders who've got their own positions to win, he doesn't sound like a pretty-boy quarterback who wants to step away.

"I would love it!" Peterson blurted, a dimple showing. "I haven't bit in three years. If somebody blindsides me up, I'd get up smiling. That won't be a problem. Coach says we'd get hit, and I'm looking forward to it. Let 'em come."