Sport: Bulldozing Buckeye

In the brand of football that Coach Woody Hayes teaches at Ohio State, a fullback learns to expect a lot of punishment. “The only pass I like is the one in the classroom,” says bluff Woody Hayes. In Ohio State’s bread-and-butter play, the fullback simply hugs the ball to his belly, lowers his head and charges. This year such tactics have made unbeaten, once-tied Ohio State third among U.S. college teams. And no one plays the role of bulldozer better than Robert Eugene Ferguson, 22, a bullnecked (6-ft., 215-lb.) fullback who deals out as much punishment as he takes.

A massive-shouldered, thick-chested Negro with thighs like tree trunks, Ferguson puts such savage strength into his pile-driving charges that he has been stopped behind the line only three times in three years of bruising Big Ten ball. “He has impossible power,” said Northwestern Coach Ara Parseghian after Ferguson ground out nine first downs in Ohio State’s 10-0 victory over the Wildcats. “He runs over people who don’t bring him down with one or two shots.”

The Trojan Bull. A unanimous All-America in his junior year at Ohio State, Ferguson is bulldozing his way toward a spot on most All-America teams again, despite the fact that every Ohio State opponent has been laying for him. “In a way, it hurts the opposing team more than it does me,” says the uncomplaining Ferguson—and his point was neatly proved fortnight ago. “We stacked our defenses on Ferguson,” said Indiana Coach Phil Dickens. “We knew we had to stop him at the risk of weakening ourselves somewhere else.” The result: while eight hulking Hoosiers jammed up close to the line to hold back Ferguson, Hayes used the forward pass to capitalize on Indiana’s thinned-out secondary for a 16-7 victory. Last week it was business as usual, with Ferguson plunging for two touchdowns as the Buckeyes brushed off intersectional rival Oregon, 22-12.

In Ohio’s smoky mill towns, the nursery schools for some of the best pro football players in the U.S.. Ferguson was a legend before he even finished Troy High School, 73 miles west of Columbus. He was so big when he entered Troy—a rock-solid 195 Ibs.—that school officials had to send out mimeographed copies of his birth certificate to quell complaints from rival coaches. Soon the coaches had better reason to gripe. After dropping its first three games during Ferguson’s freshman year, Troy never lost another while he was around. College recruiters, awed by Ferguson’s ability to gain as much as 470 yds. in a single game, swamped him with offers. None were as persuasive as Woody Hayes.

How to Lose Friends. At Ohio State, Ferguson is a C student in physical education. A quiet, reserved senior, he has lived off campus since his recent unpublicized marriage, has few pastimes other than roller skating and bid whist. Aware of the fame that only football could have brought him, he says: “Football has helped my life tremendously.” .

Ferguson’s contribution to Ohio State has also been huge. The workhorse of the Buckeyes’ meat-grinder offense, he leads the Big Ten in rushing for the second straight year, has accounted for fully one-third of the team’s first downs. Even when opposing defenses are stacked against him, Ferguson churns through the line with three or four tacklers clinging to him like cobwebs. This is the sort of performance that makes pro scouts perk up: San Diego and Cleveland have already expressed interest in him. But it is not calculated to make Ferguson popular on rival Midwestern campuses. Dogtrotting to the bench after climbing out from under half a ton of tacklers in the Indiana game, Ferguson shook his head and said wryly: “I don’t think too many people over here like me.”