Mater Dei must make changes amid football culture of hazing

On one wall of the Mater Dei High School soccer locker room are the words: “Pride, Glory, and Courage.”

What happens under that poster is shameful, brutal and cowardly.

Two players prepare to fight. The largest player weighs 235 pounds and is smiling. The smallest player weighs 175 pounds and is frowning.

It is clear that the smallest does not want to be there, but he does not have a choice. He is new to the nationally known Monarch soccer team and must prove himself. The smaller player must face the larger player in a hazing exercise called “Bodies”, in which two players hit each other on the torso until one of them falls.

Their Feb. 4 bout was captured in two chilling videos seen by the Los Angeles Times, the disturbing footage being the centerpiece of a lawsuit filed by the smaller player’s family last week against Mater Dei and the Roman Catholic Diocese of Orange.

“Ready … three, two, one … go!” a voice yells, and they begin to fight.

It’s Mater Dei’s version of “Fight Club,” except this isn’t a fair fight.

The smallest player, shirtless and with a cross on his neck, lunges, misses and slips. The biggest player starts to hit.

In the middle of the fight, which lasts almost a minute, the bigger player knocks the smaller one to the ground. The smallest player gets up and the largest player approaches to finish him off.

The bigger player hits the smaller player with a right hand to the face in a blow so hard it can be heard. A slap! Then he hits him with a left to the face. Another slap!

The smaller player stops fighting and stands still, holding his head as blood spills around his eyes and … Bang! … the bigger player hits another terrifying right hand to the head.

“Easy, easy, easy,” yells a voice.

“Alright, it’s over,” yells another voice.

“Oh my God,” yells a third voice.

The smallest player faces his tormentor with a bloody face and a sway in his gait. The unwritten rules of hazing have been broken, blows have been thrown over the shoulder, and the smallest player cannot understand it.

In addition to the cuts to both eyes, he would eventually be diagnosed with a traumatic brain injury and a broken nose that required surgery.

“What are you doing?”, The smallest player yells at the largest. “This was between friends!”

In fact, it is such a common ritual with such well understood rules, among the handful of players in the locker room during the fight, two of them are idly staring at their phones, and others are sitting quietly. What is happening in the center of the room is the kind of violence unleashed that would bring a boxing crowd to its feet, but until that final blow there was no noise, no reaction, and certainly no one tried to interrupt it.

This is not a showdown in the schoolyard after school at the back of the building. It is an authorized fight in the center of a school facility in broad daylight, in a room adjacent to veteran soccer coach Bruce Rollinson’s office.

According to the lawsuit, which refers to the smallest player as Player One, this is Mater Dei’s soccer culture.

When watching the videos, it’s hard to disagree. They only last 55 seconds, but it seems like an eternity. They are shocking in their stark reality. They are unsettling because of their fierce images and sick sounds. They are painful to watch, difficult to digest, the hardest of tests.

Reading the material in support of the lawsuit along with the documented facts of the incident, it is difficult to understand how Rollinson and director Frances Clare still have their jobs.

Not only was Player One beaten up, he suffered an obvious cover-up attempt that makes Mater Dei’s football look like a second-rate gang of thugs.

Mater Dei has a culture of winning at all costs, and a culture of cover-up at all costs, “said Michael Reck, one of Player One’s attorneys.” They treat their children like merchandise. “

Teammates initially told Player One not to report it, but when school officials found out, they apparently didn’t want to openly acknowledge the reason for the injuries, and didn’t call their parents for 90 minutes.

When his father finally spoke to Rollinson the next day, the coach dismissed the incident as child’s play, saying, “If I got $ 100 every time these guys play with each other, I’d be a millionaire.”

Rollinson is also accused of telling Player One’s father that he could not discipline Player Two because his father was an influential local youth soccer coach who had worked with multiple players at Mater Dei.

But the school administered a punishment. In an act as outrageous as any coup de grace, the school suspended Player One for fighting, a suspension that was ultimately overturned.

Meanwhile, Player One’s father’s efforts to reunite with Clare, the headmistress, were blocked.

“To this day, Principal Clare has never addressed the concerns raised by the plaintiff’s parents, instead choosing to be evasive and divert attention,” according to the lawsuit.

Mater Dei officials also told Player One’s family that there was no video of the fight, which turned out to be false and represented another cover-up attempt.

Mater Dei initially refused to cooperate with a local police investigation into the fight and, according to the Southern California News Group, did not meet with the Santa Ana Police Department until nearly three months after the incident. Even then, the school did not admit to being aware of the fight and, despite what it had initially told Player One’s father, Rollinson told police that he had “no knowledge of any form of hazing.”

Although the Santa Ana police department recommended filing felony battery charges against Player Two, according to the Southern California News Group, the Orange County prosecutor’s office decided not to press charges because it considered the fight to be a mutual combat.