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<BODY.CONTENT>
<UID>
8502190376
</UID>
<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
851205
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Thursday, December 05, 1985
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
METRO FINAL
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
SPT
</SECTION>
<PAGE>
1D
</PAGE>
<ILLUSTRATION>
Photo
</ILLUSTRATION>
<CAPTION>

</CAPTION>
<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM
</BYLINE>
<AFFILIATION>

</AFFILIATION>
<MEMO>

</MEMO>
<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 1985, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
DIVISION III BACK MAKES 
HIS MARK ON THE HEISMAN
</HEADLINE>
<SUBHEAD>

</SUBHEAD>
<CORRECTION>

</CORRECTION>
<BODY>
QUINCY, Mass. -- Rita Dudek works in a convenience store. Sells everything
from toothpaste to Hawaiian Punch. Once a week she puts out the magazines --
"It only takes me an hour," she says -- cutting  open the bundles and placing
them on the shelves. Last week, after she put them out, she found herself
checking the customers who walked past. She couldn't help it. Were they
looking at the new Sports  Illustrated? At the cover? Were they looking?
For there, beneath a headline that read "The Thinking Fan's Vote for the
1985 Heisman Trophy," were three faces with a box next to each: Bo Jackson of
Auburn, Chuck Long of Iowa and someone named Joe Dudek of Plymouth State, an
obscure Division III college in New Hampshire.

  And Dudek's box had a red check in it. On the cover. Of Sports Illustrated.
 The magazine's  choice for the Heisman Trophy winner.
  Joe Dudek. Rita's son.
  Joe Dudek?
His life changes
  "This has really changed everything," said Joe Dudek, dressed in a
corduroy sports  jacket and red tie. He was sitting in a restaurant in
Medford, Mass., awaiting  a local sports banquet.  Friends and teammates were
mingling.  Dudek himself looked unspectacular -- crew-cut hair, a slightly
crooked smile, average football build. A little small, actually.
  But in this small-town restaurant, he almost glowed. Violinists dream of
Carnegie Hall, oilmen of the Forbes 400. But if you carry  a football, like
Joe Dudek, you fantasize about the cover of Sports  Illustrated.
  With a check mark. The room was buzzing.
  "Did you see that article?"
  "Hey, he's great. I'm not surprised."
  "Is he going down to New York for Heisman ceremonies?"
  "Did you say he was going to New York?"
  "Hey. You think he's got a chance?" 
  Dudek  found out about the cover only the night before  it came out. He and
his girlfriend drove to the first open newsstand and bought a copy. They read
it in the car. Five times.
  The article is mostly a tongue-in-cheek comment on the overblown big-name
Heisman candidates. And its writer  never met Dudek. Just spoke to him over
the phone.
  But a cover is a cover, and in these parts, it was like Rocky Balboa being
given a shot at the heavyweight title.  People Dudek had known for years began
asking for his autograph. The phone rang. Reporters arrived. TV camera lights
glared.  The phone rang. Channel 7, Channel 56, the Boston Globe, the Boston
Herald.  Could they have a minute? The phone rang. At the family Thanksgiving,
Joe Dudek was a celebrity. His nieces and nephews drew crayon signs: "Hurrah
for Joey!" Agents are circling. The pros are interested.
  An article that criticized the hurricane of Heisman hoopla created a little
storm of its own.
Division III 'just as tough'
  Not that the article is without merit. In his four years at Plymouth
State,  Dudek, 21, scored more touchdowns (79) than any other collegian ever
to wear a helmet. He gained 5,570 yards (a Division III record). In his final
game two weeks ago, he ran 34 times for 265 yards and  two touchdowns before
he was taken from the field by ambulance, exhausted and injured, with four
minutes left. 
  He has received no silver-spoon treatment. No scholarships. Dudek, the
youngest of  eight kids, pays to go to school, and owes more than $10,000 in
student loans. He lives in a regular dorm. He never played in a bowl. Division
III? The farthest he's traveled to play is Schenectady,  N.Y.
  But now. The cover. The Heisman check mark.
  "I know what people think," Dudek said. "It's a Division III school. Who do
they play? But guys here play football because they love it. To me,  the hits
are just as hard, the holes are just as tough to get through."
  Sadly, the Heisman is less understanding. It will be awarded this weekend.
Jackson or Long will get it. Joe Dudek will not win.  No. Will he?
  "I know I won't," he said. "I'd be thrilled to even finish in the top 10.
But I have the magazine. Nobody can take that away. Playing out here in
Division III, there's usually nobody  to tell you if you're any good or not.
This tells me that maybe I at least belong with those other guys, you know?
That means a lot."
  A new Sports Illustrated arrives at the convenience store today.  Rita
Dudek will cut the bundles and put them out. A new cover. A new face. The week
is up.
  "That's OK," Joe Dudek said. "I'm kinda looking forward to the next week's
issue, the letters to the editor  they get for picking me."
  He laughed. "That should be pretty interesting itself."
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