U safety Steve Tate did not play much football as a young tyke. His mother wouldn’t allow any of her children to play such a barbaric sport.
“Just stick with soccer,” she told Tate. In soccer, his mother could patrol the sidelines and make sure none of the other 8-year-olds took cheap shots at her son.
By the time he was 12, Tate had convinced his parents to let him play little league football — as long as he wore pads, of course — which was alright by him. Tate hated to be hit.
That’s right — last year’s second-leading tackler in the MWC had an aversion to touching people.
“My whole goal when I was little was to outrun everybody so they wouldn’t hit me,” said Tate, a senior in economics. “I hated contact.”
In the first play of his first game, Tate took the ball and gracefully sidestepped his way to the 5-yard line — a 60-yard scamper. He didn’t get tackled. He simply dropped the ball and began celebrating because he thought he was in the end zone.
Needless to say, the other team picked it up and ran it 95 yards the other direction for a touchdown.
“That was brutal. It took me about six years to tell anyone about it,” he laughed. “At least I ran it in the right direction. That was good.”
For Tate, the babying didn’t stop in high school, either. Skyline put Tate snuggly in the pocket and surrounded him with giant offensive linemen.
“I was an option quarterback,” he explained. Tate could either toss the ball or hand it off to a running back. Or make his mother sick with dread and run the ball himself.
Luckily for Skyline, he chose the third option often on his way to becoming Utah’s Mr. Football in 2000. The 5A MVP led the state in rushing (1,660 yards) and rushing touchdowns (24).
Tate, a lifelong Ute fan, hoped to graduate from high school and follow in his grandfather’s footsteps. Hal Tate was an All-American running back for the Utes in 1947. He wore the number 28 — Tate’s current number.
Steve Tate instead wound up playing a semester in Logan for Utah State and subsequently left for Argentina to serve an LDS mission.
“It was a great experience, but there were some tough times,” Tate said of his stay in Buenos Aires. “That was when the Iraq war broke out, and there were a lot of anti-American people.”
“We were locked in our apartment for a few days while they were setting things on fire just outside,” he said. “We had to take off to a safer house. It was insane.”
Somewhere between his mother’s protection and the anti-American threats in a foreign land, Tate arrived home in 2004 a changed man. These days, Ute opponents never want to hear the words “You won’t like me when I get angry” fall from Tate’s lips.
After walking on and redshirting in 2004 during Urban Meyer’s dream season, Tate has played in all but one game since — a remarkable feat considering he switched to a position that asks him to throw his body at sometimes much bigger players.
Last season, the 5-foot-11, 195-pound defensive back led the Utes with 102 tackles, including 8.5 per game (40th in the nation). The season before, he tallied a ridiculous 17 tackles against Boise State and 13 each against Wyoming and New Mexico.
“I always had a nose for the ball, but as far as collisions go, I had to learn the hard way. I play with instincts,” Tate said. “I take pride in tackling and hitting. It’s kind of a dirty man’s job. Not many people like to get in the mix and hit someone, but that’s something I love and crave.”
One can imagine how little Tate’s mother craves to see her son risk injury after each snap — a problem the Utes seem to be familiar with this season.
“She doesn’t see any of the games anymore,” Tate said. “She used to pace back and forth, but two years ago she just decided she wouldn’t go. I guess she’s my mother, but she’s a nervous wreck, so it’s kinda best that she stays back a little bit.”
As for the Utes’ unpredictable season so far, Tate doesn’t have an answer.
“You know, I can’t put my finger on it,” he said. “There’s no real explanation and it’s definitely not acceptable for us.”
The one thing Tate will not admit as the cause for the Utes’ downfall is the changing of the coaching staff.
“To tell you the truth, (the situation this year) is really similar (to the Utes of 2004),” Tate said. “When coach Whittingham took over, there wasn’t a drop-off. I think the camaraderie on this team is great.”
Tate, who has seen college football through both clear and muddied lenses, attributes his ability to handle all of it in stride to his mission.
“You learn that there are some ups and downs in life, and that’s the way it is in football,” he said. “Obviously, we’re going through that right now, and it’s helped me to stay steady in those times.”
Now that Tate is fulfilling his life-long dream of suiting up in the red and white — he calls his election as a team captain his best moment in his football career — he hopes that he can play up to the expectations of Utah fans.
“I grew up a Ute fan — I know what to expect,” Tate said. “And playing on the team, sometimes it gets tough for us. But that’s where the true fan comes out. They can be sure that we’re not going to settle with the way we’re playing. We’re not having a good time losing out here.”
Tate and the Utes will attempt to clear things back up against the Aggies on Saturday — Tate’s former team.
“There’s a little meaning involved, but with the situation we’re in right now, we can scratch all that,” Tate said. “It’s just a matter of getting a win.”