Three Decades In, Curtis Shaner Joins the Pantheon of Northwestern Legends
By Matt Adams
Curtis Shaner looked at the mountain of boxes and mementos stacked outside his old office and wondered how one man could accumulate so much stuff. Game balls from bygone seasons were piled high on top of a work table. A framed jersey from the 1996 Rose Bowl sat propped up against the wall next to a guitar, a gift from last year’s Music City Bowl in Nashville. There was even a coconut, painted in school colors, from the 2016 Outback Bowl in Tampa. It was a small sampling of the tokens Shaner has collected over thirty-two years as the Wildcats’ equipment manager, all of it ready to be relocated to his immaculate new lakefront digs at the recently completed Ryan Fieldhouse.
Shaner isn’t normally one to reflect on his place in the annals of Northwestern football history, but the process of sorting and packing his memories has made him a little more nostalgic than usual. As the longest-tenured employee in the athletic department, he’s seen it all and has forgotten very little, from the Wildcats’ down-and-out years when he first started in the 1980s through the team’s resurgence under head coach Pat Fitzgerald.
“I really remember the winning seasons,” he said, “and I remember the kids. When former players come back to visit, they’ll still come in and say hi to me and say thanks, and that’s special. Then you meet their sons and daughters and you think, wow, where did the time go?”
His longevity is a testament to the quality of his work and his commitment to the university. On weekdays during the football season, Shaner is the first one in the equipment room before dawn, getting things organized for morning practice, and the last one to leave at night. On game days, both home and away, he’s at the stadium several hours before kickoff setting up the sideline and locker room, and his day doesn’t end until long after the lights are off and the parking lot is empty.
During games, he paces the turf in a constant state of motion, attending to all manner of needs, from swapping out pads and cleats to troubleshooting headsets. On those sidelines, the concept of teamwork extends beyond the players in uniform, and just like each of them, Shaner and his crew play a crucial role in the Wildcats’ success. There’s an intensity inherent to the job, but also a deep sense of camaraderie and a feeling that you’re part of something bigger than yourself. That’s what Shaner can’t get enough of.
As a kid in Bowling Green, Ohio, he was a gifted athlete, playing football, baseball and basketball alongside his best friend Joe Sharp, whose father, Glenn Sharp, was the long-time equipment manager at Bowling Green State University. One fall Friday when Shaner was a teenager, the elder Sharp invited the boys to come out the next day and help him during a game against the University of Toledo.
“After it was over, Glenn said, ‘See you next week,’ and that was it,” Shaner recalled. “I just kept going back. At first, it was just about getting into the games for free and standing on the sideline. It wasn’t until I got to college that I thought about doing it for a living.”
Shaner saw the light, literally, during his first semester at Ashland College (now Ashland University). He was in his dorm room studying one evening while the school’s football team was playing a game down the street. He looked out his window and caught a glimpse of the stadium aglow and was struck by a longing to be there. Not in the stands watching the game, but down on the field, contributing in some way. He knew right then and there what he had to do. When he returned to school in the spring, he was hired as a student manager and he hasn’t looked back since.
“The job just kept getting better and better,” he said. “I joke and say it’s not even a job, it’s a ‘position.’ It doesn’t feel like work. It’s something I love doing. If you don’t love it, you won’t last.”
After graduation, Shaner accepted a full-time role on Ashland’s equipment staff, spending a couple of years at his alma mater before moving south and joining the team at Oklahoma State under head coach Jimmy Johnson. From there he went to Western Michigan before landing at Northwestern in 1986, where he was hired by the great Bill Jarvis, a man whom Shaner mentions in the same breath as Glenn Sharp as one of the most influential people in his life.
“Jarvis had the biggest impact on me,” Shaner said. “I was wet behind the ears, and he helped me understand what this job means.”
The mantle of resident legend that Jarvis once held has now been thrust upon Shaner, though he’ll balk at any suggestion that he fits the description.
“He is a legend,” Assistant Equipment Manager John Lovellette insisted recently, as Shaner, who was standing nearby, shook his head in disagreement. “I’ve worked with him for four years and it’s been awesome to learn from Curtis. He’s taught me loyalty – I don’t think there’s anybody more loyal than him. He’s loyal to the coaches, loyal to the program and loyal to the university, and I see how that loyalty drives his preparation.”
Associate Director of Equipment Services Meli Resendiz, who falls right under Shaner in terms of seniority in the department with twenty-nine years, echoed that sentiment in talking about her admiration for him and the bond the two have formed over the decades.
“He’s my work husband,” she joked, adding that it’s been a happy union. “It’s been great working next to him. We’ve been through a lot together and have seen the growth of Northwestern sports. From where we stand, you get a behind-the-scenes view of everything that happens.”
Thinking back on all the seasons he’s witnessed since arriving in Evanston, Shaner can still list the names of players he enjoyed watching and getting to know – guys like defensive end Dean Lowry, who is now with the Green Bay Packers, and receiver Austin Carr, who’s with the New Orleans Saints. And of course, Coach Fitzgerald, who played on the 1995 team that Shaner remembers fondly for giving him a chance to live out a lifelong dream of going to the Rose Bowl.
“The fact that Fitz was here as a player and Curt was his equipment manager, that’s a rare thing,” said Assistant Athletic Director for Equipment Mike Valentine. “It’s nice that they have that friendship, that relationship that goes back that far, because a lot of what we do is based on the needs of the coaches. Curt has been around Fitz so long that he knows him well, and that’s valuable.”
Valentine laughed when asked if he could picture Shaner doing anything other than what he’s doing, the obvious answer being a resounding “no.”
“We jokingly call him ‘The Mayor’ because he knows everyone in the building,” Valentine said. “He doesn’t get stumped; if you need something, he knows who to call. But it’s more than just what goes on in the equipment room. He also knows all the vendors – the helmet manufacturers and so forth – and they all know him. In this business, having a guy like that is money in the bank.”
For what it’s worth, Shaner can’t picture himself doing anything else, either. The competitive fire inside him still burns as hot as ever and he has no plans to slow down. “If I go to a Cubs or a Sox or a Bears game, I have a hard time sitting in the stands because I’ve always been close to the action down on the field; that’s where I like to be,” he said.
It’s a new year, with new expectations to go along with the glistening new fieldhouse, where Shaner busied himself in the last weeks of July in preparation for the upcoming season. As he walked the halls, players in the weight room shouted in his direction.
“Hey, Curt! How are you?”
The respect the players and coaches have for Shaner is obvious, and that goes both ways. They are his guys, and everything he’s given to his job – the sacrifices, the late nights and early mornings, the sweat and the sore muscles – has always been for them. The seasons pass and the faces change, but Curtis Shaner remains for that reason, an institution within Northwestern football because of his tireless devotion to the service of others. Ask him about it, though, and he’ll tell you with a straight face that he hasn’t had to work a day in thirty-two years. Like he said, when you love what you do, it’s not really a job, it’s a position.
“Being around the kids keeps me young,” he said, smiling. “This is my home. Until they throw me out, I might as well stay.”
penandbones.com 