Remembering Sal Aunese: Let's Just Call Him Savior For Buffs
September 27, 1987
By Jay Mariotti
BOULDER-First, before deeming him the savior of a wavering football program, let's get his name right. ON his California drivers license, he is listed as Siasau Pepa Aunese. No on will have trouble with his first name, for he mercifully has shortened it to Sal.
But the last name...my, how it has been butchered in these parts.
You look at it and want to say Au-niece. The voice of Folsom Field, Alan Cass, calls him Au-nessie. The pronunciation section of the Colorado press guide has it the same way. So, hold it. Stop the interview. Forget the slippery dashes, the elusive moves, the shifty dekes. Never mind the 185-yard rushing performance, second-best ever for a CU quarterback. Will you please tell us, young magician, how you pronounce your name?
"Au-nessa," he replied with a hint of chagrin yesterday. "Everyone says it different. Most people want to say A-nessy or something like that. But I don't really mind what they call me. As long as we win the game, they can call me anything they want."
IT WAS SO MUCH easier to say Hatcher or Wheeler. But it is unlikely you will hear much more of those names. On the Saturday when Ralphie II was eulogized, saluted with a rendition of "Home on the Range," a saint emerged to inject hope into a season that had grown uncertain and a program that seemed to have grown stagnant.
So his name is a hassle to pronounce. So his passes wobble a bit. So he's not taller (5-10) or bigger (185 pounds) than the average accounting major. If you are a CU fan, you should drop to your knees this day and give solemn thanks to Sal Aunese. He is the reason the Buffaloes will remain competitive in the Big Eight this year and, perhaps, years to come.
Rarely does the emergence of a player inspire the performance of an entire team. Aunese accomplished that and more in CU's tense 26-17 victory over pass-delirious Washington State. When he entered the game last in the first quarter, CU was trailing 7-3 and resembling the lesser of the two teams.
Rick Wheeler, who had started in place of the injured and eternally maligned Mark Hatcher, had led the Buffs to two first downs in three possessions. The Colorado defense appeared helpless against Dennis Erickson's quick-pass offense. The scene needed inspiration, motivation, life.
On came Aunese, to the roar of fans who knew his exploits as a high-school option quarterback. He took the snap on the first down, glided right in the wishbone, tucked the ball under his arm, eluded three defenders and ran 32 yards to the WSU 45.
ON THE NEXT play he slammed through a hole and gained 11 yards. On the next play, he shook here, rattled there, and rolled for 19 more yards. The drive stalled three plays later, when Aunese was sacked for a 2-yard loss and reminded that the game is not always easy. But he jogged off the field, the fans behind the bench rewarded him with a standing ovation. He had won their hearts in six plays.
Just as important, he had inspired his teammates. The defense would allow only two more first downs the rest of the half and produce a touchdown, on an interception return by Mickey Pruitt. The special teams would play with panache. The blazing young running backs-J.J. Flannigan, O.C. Oliver, Eric (Give the man some initials) Bieniemy-would pump their legs a bit higher. "Sal got us all pumped up," Flannigan said. "We were aroused."
This is the quarterback who should lead the Buffaloes ever after. Enough with Hatcher, whose erratic ways have been tolerated too long. Enough with Wheeler, who belongs in a relay race with grandmothers. Sal Aunese should be allowed to mesh and mature with a young backfield.
The principles still think an issue exists. Coach Bill MacCartney, though extremely pleased with Aunese, isn't ready to pronounce him the starter. Hatcher, admitting some concern about his job, said he's "ready to compete with Sal." Aunese doesn't even thinkg the position is his.
"It's Hatch's job," he said. "That's the way I'm looking at it."
Humble kid, that Au-niece.