The life of a lineman offers all the tranquility of lightning and thunder.
“It’s the darkest trenches,” Saskatchewan Roughriders defensive tackle Micah Johnson says. “You’re down there in Mariana’s Trench.
“There ain’t no sunlight down there. You’ve got to fight for your damn life, bro.”
Such is the reality in the trenches, where offensive and defensive linemen collide play after play, game after game, season after season.
“It’s controlled chaos,” Roughriders offensive tackle Jermarcus Hardrick says. “It’s almost like being in a car wreck, with a 20-second play clock.
“It’s a matter of accepting it, knowing that you might be the first car in or you might be the last car in.
“Sometimes you’re in the car wreck to protect other people. Sometimes you’re giving your body up. Sometimes it’s going to be a good play. Sometimes it’s going to be a bad play.
“Sometimes you’re not the biggest guy on the field or the baddest. That’s what it feels like.”
It isn’t for everyone. But, career-wise, it is everything for Johnson, Hardrick and anybody who dares to toil in the trenches.
“It’s something you grow to love,” says Hardrick, a decade-long CFLer.
“You’re not three years old and telling people you want to be an O-lineman. It’s something that you fall in love with. I fell in love with it at an early age.
“It’s just a brotherhood. If one guy messes up, we all mess up.”
Defensive linemen, such as Johnson, love nothing more than to mess it up for their opposite numbers along the line of scrimmage.
“I think it’s fun,” Johnson says. “I like it. I think you survive longer if you like it. If you don’t like it, it almost gets worse, so you’ve got to embrace it and enjoy it.
“I’m going to hit the guy in front of me harder than he’s going to hit me. I think it boils down to not just doing it once. It comes down to who can do it over and over and repeatedly do it.
“Thankfully, I’ve been one of the guys who can do it.”
The resume speaks for itself. A five-time All-Star, Johnson has been one of the CFL’s premier defensive linemen since 2013.
Hardrick also boasts impressive credentials, such as three All-Star nominations (earned as a member of the Winnipeg Blue Bombers) and recognition in 2023 as the West Division’s Most Outstanding Offensive Lineman.
But, considering what the linemen must endure, all of them deserve a medal for simply suiting up.
“Sometimes, when you watch the film, you think, ‘Oh, that’s why this is hurting,’ ” Hardrick says. “It never stops.”
But the games go on. Rapid recuperation is essential when you consider that the battles are a week-after-week proposition.
“After games, the guys have their own routine,” centre Peter Godber says. “Some guys get massages. Some guys do the hot tub or the cold tub or flush workouts.
“It definitely takes a toll on you. That’s why we have to do our best to take care of our bodies. It’s about making sure you’re fresh and ready to go each game, because it’s a long season.”
Johnson has been known to create some long days for rival offensive linemen.
“A lot of times, you’ll look at film and say, ‘Golllll-y! He felt that one,’ ” he says.
“It can also be on the opposite end. I get mine, too. I’ve been put on my back and de-cleated, too, but it’s a mindset. You’ve got to hop up and go again. It’s a battle of wills.
“You’ve got to gear up and go for the next one. You won that one? OK … you’ve got 40 more snaps of this. Let’s see who breaks first.”
Johnson once lined up alongside Corey Mace when they were both defensive tackles with the Calgary Stampeders.
Now the Roughriders’ first-year Head Coach, Mace looks back fondly on the days when he was in the middle of the melee.
“When you leave it, you know that you can’t do anything like that ever again,” he says. “In those four seconds of chaos, anything goes. You do it for your teammates.
“Most of the time, with the offensive line and defensive line and specifically in the run game, it’s a very selfless job and you pay for it physically. But it’s always worth it when you win.
“You miss that feeling. I miss the heck out of it, but I’m happy that I still get to be around.”
The Roughriders’ 3-0 record adds to the enjoyment.
“Seeing what we’re trying to build here is based on the love of exactly what I just talked about,” says Mace, who has made it clear from the outset that physicality and control of the line of scrimmage will be priorities.
He won’t receive any argument from the Roughriders’ starting quarterback.
“The brighter minds in football will tell you that’s where the game is won and lost,” Trevor Harris says.
“It’s a very cliched thing, but it’s very true. If you win the battle up front — whether that be protection or moving people in the run game — that’s really where the game starts and ends.”
A play starts and ends in a matter of seconds. In that brief time, Harris must disregard all the commotion that surrounds him and, in the event of a passing play, look downfield for a receiver.
While he is in the pocket, very large and menacing men are grunting, snorting, scratching and clawing for every square centimetre of turf. In the meantime, what is it like for Harris?
“Quiet,” he says.
Yes, you read that correctly.
Quiet.
Experience teaches a quarterback to block out the noise and focus on the immediate imperatives, even while defensive linemen are doing their utmost to approach and flatten him.
“It’s just about finding a soft spot in the pocket — finding that quiet spot to make that throw you need,” Harris says.
“To be honest, it’s kind of a more instinctual thing. If you’re looking at the rush, you can’t have your eyes downfield. You can’t do two things at once.
“It’s about having that sixth sense sort of a feel. Some people have it. Some people don’t.”
Sort of like a capacity to wade into the trenches.
“It gets rough,” Johnson says. “It’s real, real, real physical. It’s a mindset and a fight.
“It’s a battle of wills. It’s the most physical area of the field.”
The entire skirmish is pivotal to the outcome of a football game. Yet, as a fan or a reporter, the inclination is often to follow the football. Even if someone focuses intently on the line of scrimmage, so much is happening at once that it can be difficult, if not impossible, to digest it all.
“There are guys pulling you down,” Johnson says. “You might get flipped one play. You might flip somebody else the next play.”
If someone takes a spill due to (gasp!) a contravention of the rules, only for a foul to be undetected or unpenalized, what then?
“You just shrug,” Johnson says, “and go on to the next play.”
Hardrick is of the same mindset.
“If the ref doesn’t call it,” he says, “it’s not a penalty.”
Surely, though, there must be times when an opponent crosses the line along the line. But when asked to describe the most extreme situations, Hardrick does not bite.
“I have to respect the game,” he concludes, breaking into a laugh. “I’ll tell you a lot more when I retire.”
