Mark Madland was the defensive signal caller on the
most dominant football team in Northwest history's
post-war era. Leading the charge on a team
that shut out 10 of 16 opponents in 1986 and 6 more
shut outs in 1987, Madland-led defenses gave up more
than 10 points on only 5 occasions through the
final 32 games while he earned All-NFA first team
linebacker in 1985 (No league awards were given out
in 1987 when the NFA shut down).
The "M&M's" of Madland
and (Steve) Matychowiak made it virtually impossible
for opponents to run the ball on the Panthers 3-4
defense. A knee injury slowed him down, but it
did not stop him from being one of the most dominant
linebackers to ever play the game. His ability
to read offensive linemen and teach future
stand-outs like Matychowiak the techniques are
rarely seen attributes of today's minor league
players who rely on their bench press numbers and
40-times rather than their eyes and brains to play
dominant football.
After a stellar high
school career at Wenatchee HS where he earned 6
varsity letters in Football, Wrestling and Baseball
and All-State honors, he earned All-Conference
honors at Spokane Falls Community College.
After a redshirt season at BYU, he transferred to
UPS in Tacoma dominating at linebacker for 3 seasons
earning NAIA All-Northwest and Little All-America
honors. Mark is a member of the Wenatchee HS
Athletic Hall of Fame and was inducted into the
University of Puget Sound Hall of Fame in 2011.
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In
his own words:
The year was 1985 and somehow I wasn’t considered
yet as over-the-hill, even as a 31-year old strong
side middle linebacker. This was especially true
after having just been a teammate in a perfect 15-0
season and time-honored 3-4 defensive scheme used by
our Northwest Football Alliance, Auburn Panthers.
The Panthers were coached by ex-Pierce County
Bengals Chief, Steve Harshman. The Bengals, owned
by the legendary Doc Door, had actually disbanded
and in essence became the Auburn Panthers in 1984.
It was after their improbable 4-year 57-1 record,
West Coast Championship and National Championship
run, the Panthers franchise finally returned to
being the Pierce County Bengals in 1988.
In
1986 we all were on top of our own world after
having come back from our season’s final game,
beating the San Jose Bandits 14-7 for the MPFA West
Coast Championship. This Bandit’s game was played
the week after winning the Northwest Football
Alliance Championship by beating the Salem Stars
19-3 in Auburn.
For me personally, it was the very best of storybook
seasons. Coach Harshman somehow, again, took a
ragtag group of extreme and "disparate individuals"
(other side of the tracks type of folks) and found a
way to build the most perfect, however flawed,
undefeated championship team. As the defensive
captain and signal caller in’86, I was fortunate
enough to be recognized with All-NFA Linebacker
honors from the league’s coaches. Although, even
more meaningful than the awards, or our team
meetings held at the local tavern after every
practice and game, was a season which provided the
epitome of demanding physical challenges. I had
never imagined I would be playing a semi-pro
football play-off and two championship games only
two weeks after completely severing my ACL. This
very loud pop and resulting tear was verified two
months later by a camera on a scope maneuvered by
Dr. Royer Collins, which was three weeks after
kicking San Jose’s butts in our last game that
season.
Entirely meaningless was the final regular season
game where this unfortunate ACL tear took place,
except for proving we could kick the West Seattle
Warhawk butts 31-0. The game was actually quite fun
until the 4th quarter leg whip which was
performed by yours truly in a moment of shear mind
numbing ill focus. The need was to tackle the
running back, but without being in good enough
position to do so, there was an excruciating and
loud pop which made me roll on the turf for a moment
in agony while holding my knee. It didn’t take more
than 5 seconds for our concerned safety (whose name
I will remember later) to hover over me saying
“if you need to die, don’t go doin' it out here
on the damn field!” I immediately knew my
only course of action would be to deny anything ever
happened. But this would also need to be after
springing back up onto one leg and hopping off the
field (unassisted) and heading for a quick barf on
the sideline. After taking a moment to hone my
denial, I ran, as best as possible, back to the
defensive huddle. I needed to prove I could still
play as good as I ever could. After three plays of
telling my knee to do what it would not, I resigned
myself to “punt” if you will, and left again for the
comfort of the sidelines.
If
you have ever been injured on a semi pro football
team, you would know that your fellow teammate are
so disgusted that you would allow yourself to get
injured, they not only DON’T speak with you, they
won’t even make eye contact. Coach Harshman could
only shake his head, apparently attempting to get
rid of the thought of having lost his LB, defensive
captain, and signal caller, on the eve of the
playoffs. All I said to him was “it will be
alright. I have two weeks to recover before we have
to play again”. All Harsh could do was
react with a visceral laugh and say, “no you
won’t you idiot, you’re done”…hence, the
brilliance of Coach Harshman. Had he laid out the
challenge in any other way, I may not have become so
inclined and determined to take it head-on and
absolutely prove him wrong. I told him I would be
back to play the first playoff game in two weeks,
but no one will see me before then. And so it was
written, in spoken words, as I limped off into the
wilderness for two weeks of my own private hell
hiking in the hills.
You can imagine the surprise of my teammates when I
sauntered into the locker room, out of the blue, two
hours before game time in full uniform. All Harsh
had to say was “It’s about time!” I asked the
trainers to tape my knee but was surprised by Harsh
taking over the job, saying he was best at taping
knees into casts. I peg-legged out to the field
where, by some miracle, everything about my knee was
holding together. After double digit tackles and a
third quarter interception deep in our territory, I
was named player of the game in defeating the
Snohomish Blue Knights 36-8. Ironically, events
were very similar in our next week’s championship
victory over the Salem Stars 19-3. Then on to take
on San Jose’s running game the following week.
A
month later during the team banquet, Coach Harshman
handed me the Most Inspirational Trophy in
recognition for my effort during the season and
began telling the team his version of my last four
games, which ended with me limping off the field in
San Jose with a minute to go in the game and the
Panthers leading 14-7. My knee had finally let me
down and only allowed a slow limp to the sidelines.
After review of the game films, Coach Harshman
tallied 18 unassisted tackles to my credit in that
game. In an exceptionally odd quirk of fate, the
knee injury turned out to be the best defensive
assist for a once overly mobile inside linebacker.
The injury put the “governor” on and at the right
speed to keep from over running the Bandit’s vaunted
off-tackle power running attack. Instead, they were
run into, and stopped dead in their tracks.
I
played a couple more seasons for Auburn but never
repaired the knee. At that time there was no
operation which would work effectively. I was
advised by Dr. Collins to fix it only if it ever
gives me any problems. It never has. Fortunately,
as Dr. Collins related to me, 5% of the athletes who
rupture their ACL have a mysterious muscle structure
that contracts at just the right time to keep the
knee joint from falling out when they take a step
forward (John Elway is the most famous of the
"5-percenters"). I owe my best football season to
that 5%, and to a great and unsurpassed football
Coach named Steve Harshman.
THE 1988 SEASON
Ironically, only two years later I would find myself
as the defensive captain and defensive player coach
on a 4-year undefeated team (57-0) playing the last
game of the franchise in Auburn against the same San
Jose Bandits. That game ended up being the first
and last loss of the franchise. The loss came with
1min 20 seconds left in the game with the Bandits on
their own 20 facing 4th down and 10 yards
to go. The impossible happened. The Bandits threw a
simple post pattern. The 2nd team safety
who was filling in for the injured starter, fell
down trying to tackle the post pattern receiver
after his catch. That receiver went on to score the
80 yard play and defeated the Panthers 17-21. No
league honors were ever given that year.
This game was already planned as the last to be
played by the Auburn Panther Franchise, even before
the loss. Utterly devastated doesn’t even begin to
describe how we all felt after this final game of
the 4-year franchise. Can you imagine the horror?
We had beat the Bandits all game with our base
defense. Steve Matychowiak and I as inside
linebackers had totally shut down their rushing
offense…once again. We did it entirely using Base
Defense reads of the offensive linemen. Base
Defense had to be the final call. I reasoned that
we never played the prevent well. But, prevent
should have been the call. The contrast from this
season to the one in ’86 is the type of lore which I
am sure inspired the Greek Tragedy. The loss made
any hint of ever reclaiming redemption, utterly
impossible. I will live with this mistake forever.
HISTORY REPEATING ITSELF
I
was the All-State Linebacker and team captain for
the 1973 Wenatchee Panthers, who in 11 games
preceding the first ever state championship game,
had only 7 points scored against us. We had shutout
10 out of the 11 teams we played going into the
State Championship. In the playoffs we had shut out
Jack Thompson 20-0 of Evergreen (the throwin' Samoan
at WSC and later Cincinnati). We held Steve Dills
(Fort Vancouver/ Stanford/8 years of NFL teams) to 7
points, winning 10-7. 99 out of 100 times we would
have beat the 9-2 Kentridge team in the State
Championship, but this time we lost by two points.
There were many reasons, but n the end, I was not
able to help us win, and that is my High School
Legacy, and horror. A mistake without redemption,
which carries lifelong consequences.
…But here is the rest of the story.
Post Script:
Another interesting and overwhelmingly significant
fact about the 1985 season was that a 19-year old
girl named Kerry Eggerud from Auburn High School who
was a trainer for all 4 years of the Auburn Panther
franchise. During 1986 season, Kerry eventually
ended up as the person I trusted most to tape my
ankles into casts every practice and game to prevent
injury. This is a routine I had become accustom to
playing football in the late ‘70s for the University
of Puget Sound. Head UPS trainer Zeke Schultz
always taped my ankles in similar fashion during my
years playing football for Coach Paul Wallroff and
Coach Paul Simonson at the UPS, playing in the NCAA
Division 2 Independent league. At UPS I earned
All-Northwest and Little All-American honors at
inside Linebacker.
Kerry Eggerud eventually went into nursing school
and now is a Physician’s Assistant living and
working in Wenatchee. She has been happily married
for 22 years, has a 17 year old son, 13 year old
daughter, 3 dogs…and me as a husband. We moved back
to my home town, Wenatchee, in 1991 and live in a
rustic log house on a chunk of land at 2400 feet
elevation, only 8 minutes from town. We love our
lives and where we live. It is difficult to imagine
a better life.
The Wenatchee Panthers got me playing college
football. College football got me playing for the
Pierce County Bengals and the Auburn Panthers. The
Auburn Panthers are directly responsible for who,
what and where we are right now…funny how things
work out.