The red carpets were rolled out at New York City’s Radio Music Hall. All of the
top college football players were sitting next to their sports agents, awaiting
news of their future.
It was a nail-biter of a night. The 2011 NFL Draft
was in fifth gear. The first-round draft choice for the Chicago Bears (29th
pick) was finally called out: University of Wisconsin’s star offensive lineman
Gabe Carimi.
It was an exciting moment for the Bears, but where was
Carimi? Back in Madison, Wisconsin. The 22-yearold, 6-foot, 7-inch, 320-pound
All-American tackle and civil engineering major was presenting his capstone
project to his professor.
On the biggest night dictating the course of
his career, Carimi chose school.
Flashback four years earlier: It was the
Big Ten Conference opener, and game day fell on Yom Kippur. Carimi, a Reform
Jew, chose to fast the requisite 24 hours right up to the game.
Who is
this guy? And to top it off, last month, Carimi stood before a group of sports
reporters and scouts after the draft, and told them: “Just so you know, I
already checked the next 10 years of games on Sunday and Monday, typically when
most NFL games are played, and none fall on Yom Kippur – so I’m good to
go.”
It was there that the “Jewish Hammer” (as he was called in Madison)
was crowned the “Bear Jew” – a reference to Quentin Tarantino’s hit movie,
“Inglourious Bastards.”
In a sports arena where very few Jews are known
to wander, Carimi is out there in full force – brawn, brains, and proud to be a
member of the Tribe.
Love him. Love this Bear Jew.
Flash Forward:
It is the middle of May, and Carimi has chosen for his debut Chicago appearance
to headline the Chabad-sponsored “Great Jewish Family Festival” in Skokie,
Illinois.
It was there amidst the parade and hoopla that I caught up with
him.
Carimi was surrounded by kids of all ages shouting: Gabe! Gabe! And
it was there, that I had the opportunity to find out what made this bookish
Jewish jock tick.
Let me state up front that I’m 105 pounds, five foot,
two inches. Carimi and I stood next to each other and looked very much like the
Jolly Green Giant and the Little Green Sprout.
“Not many people know
this,” I told Carimi, “but I played Big Ten football. I was the quarterback of
my sorority at University of Illinois. We never won a game, but don’t mess with
me.”
He laughed hard. It was hearty, open and inviting as he began to
discuss his life, and his career.
Carimi was born in Lake Forest,
Illinois, and moved with his parents and older sister Hannah to a small town
north of Madison.
His father is a physician and his mother a
homemaker.
On his bar mitzvah (yes, he still remembers his parasha from
Leviticus), Carimi towered over the rabbi at an intimidating 6-foot-4.
As
one of two Jews in his school (his sister was the other one), did he experience
anti- Semitism? “In high school, people did not understand Judaism at all,” he
says. “I would hear negative comments like ‘That’s so Jewish’ or ‘Such a Jew’
and I would say, ‘Why would you say that? I’m Jewish.’ “I would not ignore the
comments, but I believe that after people really got to know me I changed their
opinion and perhaps when I got out of school I left it a better place and people
perceived Jews much differently.”
Carimi was as an all-around athlete all
through school – baseball, track, but excelled in football. He has a long list
of credentials: co-captain of the Big Ten champion Badgers, recipient of the
Outland Trophy (the nation’s best interior lineman) and the winner of the Marty
Glickman Outstanding Jewish Scholastic Athlete of the Year Award, among many
accomplishments.
But the Yom Kippur story played especially big, both
with fans and in the media.
“Look, my Judaism is important to me,” he
says. “I make it work. I fasted on Israeli time, so I could begin my fast
earlier, from noon to noon the next day. That way I was able to be true to my
religion and play the best for my team.”
Carimi, who has never been to
Israel (Get this: Birthright rejected him!), says that he has a lot of Jewish
pride and that his teammates have always been supportive of his choices, and
respect his religion.
When asked if he feels the weight of responsibility
being labeled “Super Jew” in a mostly non-Jewish pro-ball environment, Carimi
says, “Not at all. People who don’t like that I’m Jewish, I don’t need their
support. I don’t care about them. Someone said something disgusting about me
online after I was drafted by the Bears, which was very anti-Semitic – something
with Hitler’s face on it.
“My response was, ‘Buddy, you’re wasting your
own life with this stuff.’ But there are very few of those types and a lot more
people who are happy to have someone like me on the team. I have a lot to give.
I know it, and my team knows it. I’m tough, but I can think.”
Not all
coaches appreciate the “thinking athlete,” Carimi adds, but he has won them over
with his ability to give everything to all areas of his life, and proven
successful.
“Sports is very important to me, and so is school,” he says.
“I believe you can’t do well in one area of your life and crappy in
another. The key to my success is to work hard and be consistent in all
areas of my life.”
And what about his heart? Carimi is very close to his family, especially his
mother. He says he would do anything for her (education is first in her
playbook).
And yes, he is committed, and in love.
With a warm
smile, he apologizes to all of the eligible Jewish Chicago women seeking a
(very) tall, handsome, and smart athletic bachelor with a brilliant
future.
And for those who are wondering … yes, Carimi IS coming to my
house for Shabbat dinner.
Lisa Barr is a freelance writer living in
Chicago.