I came to Christ in June of 1973 at a Fellowship of Christian Athletes camp at Dennison University in Granville, Ohio. At that camp, I was in Rex Kern’s group all week. This was a big deal for an Ohio boy. Kern had been an All-American quarterback for the Ohio State Buckeyes as a sophomore in 1968. The Buckeyes beat USC (OJ Simpson’s team) on New Year’s Day, 1969 in the Rose Bowl to win the National Championship. Boys growing up in Ohio at the time might not know that Richard Nixon was president, but they knew Rex Kern was our quarterback. As it turned out, he was also an amazing Christian man.

After graduating from Ohio State he was drafted by the Baltimore Colts. A shoulder injury finished him as a quarterback, so he buckled down and became an All-Pro defensive back. He had a real desire to see young people come to Christ, and so it was that in June of 1973 our paths crossed in such am way as to ever change my life.

During that week, Kern took a particular liking to me and another young fellow (Chris) who lived in the next town over from me. That football season the Baltimore Colts and the Cleveland Browns were scheduled to play each other in Cleveland. Kern arranged it that Chris and I would meet he and his wife at the Ramada Inn in Cleveland the night before the game and have dinner with them and the whole Colts team. The next day, Chris and I would sit with Kern’s wife and parents for the game itself. As much as I was looking forward to the game, it was the team dinner the night before that I remember the most.

 Kern was waiting for us at the door, genuinely glad to see us. He led us to the table where his wife was and we all sat down. As I recall, we could have whatever was on the menu, the Colts were paying the tab. I have no recollection of what I ate, or if I ate. I just remember staring at the players. HUGE players. Guys I had read about and had watched on TV. Linemen, running backs, linebackers, quarterbacks. All coming over to speak with Kern and be introduced to his guests. I don’t know what I really expected, maybe a room full of dumb giants, but these men were friendly, well-spoken and funny. It seemed a lot of them were Christians and they all seemed to regard Kern as their ‘leader’ of sorts. It was just an amazing time.

 I noticed a man working his way over to us who was maybe a little taller than me, but who appeared to be one giant muscle. One of those guys with no visible neck. It looked like he tried to buy a shirt that would be baggy on him, but his body wasn’t built that way. He was a walking muscle. No other way to describe him.

 Mrs. Kern said, “Oh no, Rex! Don is headed this way.”

 “Oh, wow. OK guys, here’s the thing. That is Don Nottingham coming over here right now. I am going to introduce you, but please, PLEASE don’t laugh!”

 Laugh? I wasn’t going to laugh at Don Nottingham! He was a personal favorite to me. A great story. Went to Ravenna High School in Ravenna, Ohio, not too far from where I lived. Went on to play at Kent State, another Ohio school. He was the second to last player selected in the 1971 NFL draft, but rather than just fade away as most players do drafted that low, he worked and worked and worked and became something special. A running back, he was called the Human Bowling Ball because when he hit the line people went flying. He was traded to the Miami Dolphins a few weeks later, but right then he was a Colt and, as I said, a personal favorite.

He came over and Chris and I stood up. Kern said, “Don, these are the guys I told you about, Ohio boys just like you and me. Chris and Larry.”

Nottingham stuck out an arm to shake hands and I really believe his muscles had muscles. He took my hand first. “Hi, Larry! I’m Don Nottingham!” It was his voice. Sounded just like Mickey Mouse. I was stunned, then I thought he was joking. He said the same to Chris in the same voice. Chris’ face was blank, but I was having a hard time not laughing. He sat down and gabbed for a while, all the time in that Mickey Mouse voice. Then he slapped us on the back and walked away. Chris and I looked at each other and broke up. Kern said, “You guys did good. After a while you get used to it and it doesn’t bother you, but it is hard at first. You both did good.”

Every once in a while, I think of Rex Kern. Many athletes will ride the glory years forever, but Kern was different. He devoted his life to education, eventually earning his doctorate. He gave much of his free time to the Fellowship of Christian Athletes, where he mentored high school kids and directed them toward Christ. And, in the summer of 1973, he pointed this kid toward Christ and then inspired this same kid to a life in His service. He is still around, still active and still changing lives at the age of 68.

         Thanks, Rex.