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Rubin Carter, Prototype Nosetackle
Posted: Tuesday January 05, 1999 09:44 AM
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John G. Zimmerman |
When he appeared on our cover, the Denver Broncos' Rubin Carter, then in his
third NFL season, was an obscure lineman who personified the latest NFL
neologism, nosetackle, but obscurity wasn't his lot for long. Under the
white-hot spotlight of Super Bowl XII the following January, he
unexpectedly became a marked
man.
As he paced the Louisiana Superdome sideline during the second half of the
Broncos' 27-10 loss to the Dallas Cowboys, Carter sensed that something was
amiss. A phalanx of strangers directly behind him was following his every step
as he expended nervous energy between defensive series. As the final gun
sounded, Carter was whisked into the Denver locker room. "That's when I was
informed by a member of NFL security that there had been a threat on my
life," he says. "I was shocked. Why would they want to kill
me?"
The threat, however morbid and misguided, was testament to Carter's play that
afternoon—six tackles, two quarterback sacks and a fumble recovery. Nothing
ever came of the incident, and now Carter recounts the strangest moment of his
life with a chuckle over the irony of a nosetackle's becoming the center of
anyone's
attention.
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Al Tielemans |
At the time of his retirement, following the 1986 season, Carter had appeared in
more games (152) at nosetackle than any other NFL player. While on injured
reserve in '86, he developed an affinity for tutoring Broncos such as Simon
Fletcher and Rulon Jones. After a two-year coaching stint in Denver, he moved to
the college ranks and has spent the last decade as an assistant, first at
Howard, then at San Jose State and now as defensive line coach at Maryland,
where he recently completed his second season. The 46-year-old father of four
lives in Maryland with his wife,
Karen.
Rubin's eldest son, Andre, a 6'4'', 245-pound sophomore at Cal and a second-team
All-Pac 10 defender in 1998, is Carter's most impressive coaching product to
date. But while the father once made his living in the trenches, the son spends
his Saturday afternoons rushing the passer from the fringe. "He saw me
coming home after getting beat up too much," says Rubin. "He said,
'I'm not going to play in there. I'll play on the
end.'"
—Richard
Deitsch
Issue date: December 28, 1998
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