Back from the Brink

Those who knew Urban Meyer best weren't worried, though history told them they should have been. But the Meyer after the 2013 season was a different coach than he had been at the end of his six years at Florida. He was just as passionate, just as intense, just as demanding. But he had perspective and self-awareness. He had stared into the abyss. It scared him to his core.

Even though his Florida teams won national championships in 2006 — crushing Jim Tressel's favored Buckeyes 41–14 — and 2008, the thrill of victory dissipated for Meyer after a stunning coaching ascent that began at Bowling Green and then Utah. After losses, Meyer would stay up until the wee hours of the morning diagramming punt plays, desperate to find solutions that might not exist. He ate poorly and lost weight, about 30 pounds one year. He needed sleeping pills and a beer to fall asleep. When his older daughter, Nicki, came home from Georgia Tech for winter break in 2009 after not seeing him for months, she was shocked by how gaunt he was. The low point came that year after Florida lost in the Southeastern Conference title game to Nick Saban's Alabama Crimson Tide. Late that night, Meyer was stricken by chest pains. Shelley called 911. It turned out that the pain was caused by esophageal spasms and could be treated. But Meyer knew he couldn't go on long like this. He announced his resignation, only to rescind it days later. He coached the Gators in 2010, but after a disappointing season, he resigned again, this time for good. Losing and the pressure — imposed internally and externally — to avoid defeats had driven him to the brink.

"It was going to be a bad ending," Meyer said of the path he was on.

After Ohio State's 12–0 season in 2012, Meyer's wife, Shelley, admitted that a part of her wouldn't have minded a loss that year. With no postseason possibility, there were no lasting consequences from a defeat. Even though she was confident that her husband had learned from his past, a loss in a season like that would have served as a test.

"I thought it was more of a [for-]fun season," she said. "Let's just go see how we can do. Then we went 12–0, and you go, 'Why did we have to go 12–0 the first season?' How do you follow that up? Then the pressure's on because the next season you are playing for the Big Ten championship, hopefully."

When Ohio State did lose to Michigan State in the 2013 Big Ten title game and then to Clemson, the reckoning was at hand. But Shelley, head strength coach and longtime Meyer right-hand man Mickey Marotti, and others closest to Meyer had come to believe he could handle it.

"Urban was of course very disappointed, but he didn't react as devastatingly as he did at Florida when we'd lose a game," Shelley said. "At Florida, if we lost a game, he really shut down. He didn't do that after the Michigan State game. I was totally fine with how he felt about losing that game, which was very disappointed, but [only concerned with], 'What could we have done better?'"

That was how Marotti viewed it as well.

"I didn't worry about that one bit," Marotti said. "He was great. He approached it great. It was, 'Here are the problems. What's the solution?' Then we went to work."

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It had taken a long time to reach that point of serenity. Urban Meyer was born in 1964 in Toledo to Urban "Bud" Meyer and his wife, Gisela. The family then moved to Ashtabula in the far northeastern corner of Ohio. Bud, a chemical engineer, was a loving father to Urban and his sisters, Gigi and Erika, but also demanding — particularly of his son. On Friday nights after Urban's high school football games for Saint John, Bud would make his son analyze game film with him, questioning him about plays he messed up. One time in high school, Meyer brought home a C from school. His father read him the riot act.

"I grew up in a very driven household," Urban said. "Any lack of effort was unacceptable."

Baseball was his best sport. The Atlanta Braves drafted Meyer as a shortstop in the 13 round of the 1982 draft. But his pro career washed out in two seasons after an elbow injury. He enrolled at the University of Cincinnati and became a walk-on defensive back and special-teamer on the Bearcats football team. Meyer had an undistinguished playing career, but it wasn't because of lack of effort.

"Urban was gifted in terms of being motivated, and not as gifted athletically," said Dan Sellers, a UC teammate. "He was always the first guy in drills. He was the kind of guy who'd run through a brick wall for a coach. I had a lot of respect for him."

His football career may have been forgettable, but he left UC with a degree that would prove invaluable. Meyer switched from major to major until settling on psychology. He was particularly fascinated by theories about what motivated people.

Meyer left Cincinnati with more than a degree. He also found his future wife. The first time Meyer saw Shelley Mather, she was holding a Playboy magazine with the centerfold open. It was at a Greek Derby Day mixer, and her sorority was in a competition to get a Sigma Chi to smile or laugh without touching him.

"That was so unlike me," she said. "I was this farm girl. I was so conservative. But I had to help my sorority win the competition. Comparing me to the centerfold of Playboy magazine was very funny, so I just flipped over this centerfold. I had to stop him because he was going to fly right by me. I said, 'Does this look like me?'"

Meyer did crack a big smile but didn't stop long enough to introduce himself. A day or two later at another Derby Day event, Meyer did notice Shelley and struck up a conversation with her, though he didn't connect her with the Playboy stunt.

"He didn't even remember that it was me who did that," she said with a laugh.

Soon enough, though, he was smitten.

"I do know that very early on I knew she was the one," Meyer said. "She was tough. I loved her toughness. She was beautiful. She was real smart."

Meyer was hired as a graduate assistant at Ohio State under Earle Bruce. Shelley, who became a psychiatric nurse, followed him to Columbus, though they didn't see each other that much because of their busy work schedules. To make ends meet, Meyer took an additional job on the graveyard shift for Consolidated Freightways, operating a forklift and loading trucks. They were married in 1989 and would eventually have three children, Nicki, Gigi, and Nate. Meyer climbed the coaching ladder as a college assistant, starting at Illinois State and then Colorado...