At the Board or With Ball, Garcia Handles Pressure

It had something to do with parabolas. Or maybe parallelograms. All Aron Garcia remembers is it came from the world of obtuse angles and squiggly lines and xy this equals AB that . In other words, the stuff of math attacks.

Now those of you who can leaf through a geometry book and not get the least bit queasy, go ahead and laugh. Better yet, go play with a protractor or something. The rest of us will suffer along.

So there was Garcia, Irvine High School’s star quarterback, standing at the blackboard, chalk in hand. His teacher had called on him. Everyone was waiting. His palms were sweating like a cold glass on a warm summer day.

Now, anyone who knows Garcia the athlete knows a boy who thrives on pressure. A pass play on third and long? Garcia, a senior, gobbles it up. A pinch hit in the bottom of the ninth? Give me that bat, Garcia says.

But as he stood at the blackboard, Garcia, a “B” student, had only one equation on his mind: Public speaking + mathematical thinking = a plethora of panic.

In other words, he hoped to high-tail it outta there.

But he stuck with it. He could have feigned a fainting spell or suddenly remembered, gee whiz, I forgot to feed the goldfish. He could have scraped his fingernails up and down the chalkboard until the teacher left the room screaming.

Somehow he got through it--he doesn’t remember how, doesn’t know if his answer was right or wrong. Point is, he survived the single most terrifying moment of his life. At least the most terrifying moment he could recall in the space of a 15-minute interview.

We bring this up to prove that Garcia does, in fact, let pressure get to him once in a while, though sometimes you have to wonder. On the football field, where he has thrown for more than 1,600 yards this season, he’s James Dean on ice--truly cool. At third base, where he made only one error last year, he’s as calm as a clam in the deep blue sea.

Friday night in the second round of the Division IV playoffs, Garcia threw for 225 yards and three touchdowns, leading Irvine to a 27-0 rout of host El Modena. The victory wasn’t much of a surprise--Irvine is the division’s second-seeded team and won the Division II title last season--though the Vaqueros weren’t expected to shut down El Modena so easily.

Garcia certainly has plenty of support. His massive offensive line provides so much protection that Garcia has time to sit in the pocket and take tea before he fires a pass. Talk about high standards, these linemen once had a less-than-perfect practice this season and were resigned to wearing Barbie Doll stickers on their helmets--no lie--for an entire week.

And, of course, there are his able receivers.

Friday night, Todd Thomas had 10 receptions for 123 yards Friday and could probably catch a falling star, given the chance. Remember in the film “Risky Business” when Tom Cruise dived across the front lawn and caught that dumb crystal egg his mother loved so much? The egg some bad guy tossed out of a moving van?

If you don’t, rent the video. That catch was nothing compared to one Thomas made in the fourth quarter Friday night.

Now Irvine (11-1) meets Foothill (8-4) in the semifinals, and Garcia finds himself a game away from championship crunch time.

Is he nervous? Is he scared? Are visions of defensive backs dancing in his head?

Naaaaah.

“It’s just football,” he says. “There shouldn’t be any pressure.”

Folks, when Aron Garcia shrugs, he does so with sincerity. At the start of the season, when Irvine Coach Terry Henigan told him he would succeed last year’s ever-effective quarterback, Jason Minici, Garcia probably yawned and wondered what’s for dinner.

It’s not that he isn’t excited to play--he is, most definitely. It’s just that ever since he pitched--and got shelled--on national television, during the 1987 Little League World Series final, Garcia has been immune to athletic anxiety. At least that’s our theory.

Back then, Garcia was a cocky 12-year-old (a.k.a. “Smoke”) with a strong arm and a not-so-even temper. He says he’s nothing like that now.

His cells have been pressure-proofed. He’d probably fall asleep bungee jumping. There isn’t a competitive situation that could spook him. Not in sports, anyway.

Chalk talks at the blackboard? You might ask Garcia to lead them. No need for a math attack when it’s X’s and O’s.

Barbie Ludovise’s column appears Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. Readers may reach Ludovise by writing her at The Times Orange County Edition, 1375 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, 92626 or by calling (714) 966-5847.