The Picture of Tough

As if those massive biceps, a chiseled, 6-foot-3, 290-pound frame like a block of granite and meaty hands the size of catchers’ mitts weren’t enough to intimidate opponents, UCLA defensive tackle Rodney Leisle has two billboard-sized tattoos, one on each arm, that essentially scream: Don’t mess with me!

On his left biceps is a skull biting through a thick chain that winds all the way around his arm. On his right biceps is a skull-topped body squeezing a football in one hand and crushing a USC football helmet under the other. On his right triceps is the Chinese symbol for strength.

“How many people do you know who bite through chains?” asked Leisle, a senior who has caught the eye of NFL scouts. “I got these to show how tough I am. They represent what I want to be like. I want to be strong, intense, tough as nails, tough as chains. Heck, you’ve got to be tough to put a big mural on each arm.”

Those who have known Leisle for his five years at UCLA, who have seen him toss offensive linemen around like tackling dummies, fight through double teams to make tackles, grit his teeth through pain, injuries and extreme fatigue, and taunt and challenge opponents, were hardly shocked by Leisle’s tattoos.

“He is a very intimidating player, you have to admit that,” said Dave Ball, a senior defensive end. “It’s all part of the ‘Leisle mystique.’ ”

But it’s no mistake. Leisle plays so hard in practice that defensive line coach Don Johnson said, “Sometimes I have to put the harness on him, so he can have something left over for the games.” Leisle (pronounced LESS-lee) is such a workout fiend, he calls the UCLA weight room “my second home.”

He is tireless and relentless, and there is a sense of urgency to whatever Leisle does, whether he’s bench-pressing 450 pounds, his personal best, wrestling a teammate in practice or fighting through the chaos of the trenches to the quarterback.

His mentality could best be summed up by the words he scrawled on his gloves last season, “KILL” and “DESTROY,” not so subtle messages that someone -- Leisle wouldn’t say if it was the NCAA, the university or Bruin coaches -- made him remove.

“I try to establish a new line of scrimmage,” Leisle said. “I want to push them back so the linebackers have room to work. When a guy is getting pushed back, he gets intimidated. He’s telling his teammates, ‘That guy is kicking my ... you gotta help me.’ I don’t let up, even if I’m tired and feel like passing out.

“If you’re standing there, looking at [the opponent] and saying, ‘I’m still here, come get me,’ he’s like, ‘Holy moley, what is he on? What is he doing?’ That’s part of the intimidation factor.” Leisle can get carried away at times, as he did Saturday night, when he was ejected for punching an Aztec player in the stomach near the end of a 20-10 victory over San Diego State.

Leisle said he was retaliating for an earlier shot. But it was Leisle who was caught and will have to sit out the first half of Saturday’s game against Washington as punishment for the ejection.

If the Huskies take advantage of Leisle’s absence and build a considerable first-half lead, Leisle will be steaming on the sideline.

“I can’t stand losing, and I’m going to do everything in my power not to lose,” he said. “A lot of people don’t have that. They give in. They don’t care. They say ... ‘I’ll get ‘em next time.’ For me, I never think there’s going to be a next time. I’ve got to do it now. That helps keep me motivated.”

Leisle was tough long before the tattoos.

When your father leaves home when you’re 2, and your truck-driver stepfather is a loving but stern disciplinarian -- a man who taught Rodney not to cry when he got hurt, who whacked his hands with a fork if he didn’t display good table manners, and would give him “whippings if I wasn’t home on time,” Leisle said, but also taught him to hunt and fish and to act responsibly -- you don’t have much of a choice.

Leisle, who was always too big to play youth football but excelled in baseball, basketball, soccer and track, was also hardened by a dismal senior season at Bakersfield’s Ridgeview High, when his 1998 football team went 0-10 and was blown out of almost every game.

“Do we have to?” Leisle said with a wince, when asked to talk about his high school football career. “Losing every game, it was hard. After games, you’re just yelling, and after a while, you get sick of it. You try to think about different things to motivate players, and none of them worked.

“So during games, I was like, ‘If no one else is going to try to get a scholarship, I’m gonna try to get one.’ I just worked as hard as I could, and it paid off. It forced me to build self-motivation, to discipline myself.”

Leisle said he “didn’t even know what a scholarship was” in his sophomore year, when his coach sent a highlight tape and Leisle’s transcripts to USC.

The Trojan response: Leisle wouldn’t be accepted with those grades.

“I realized I had to get my act together, get my grades up,” Leisle said. “I got A’s and Bs from then on.”

Leisle, who weighed 250 pounds and wore a size-15 shoe in junior high school, gives his stepfather, Dan Howarth, and his mother, Kathy Howarth, straight A’s for raising him and “keeping me out of trouble.”

Dan made a modest living as a driver, and Kathy has worked since she was 12.

“But they went to Costco once a week and spent $250-$300 on food,” said Leisle, who has two younger sisters. “It’s hard to keep feeding a kid that big, but they always fed me good. Every night, we’d have a meat, a starch and a vegetable.”

The rules at home were simple: Maintain a C average and you could play sports. Use good manners and treat people with respect. Be home on time if you don’t want a spanking.

“I came home late once in high school, and that was it,” Leisle said. “They always trusted me.... I always saw my stepfather as being tough, disciplined, and my mom too. They were both great examples to follow.”

Leisle eventually got that scholarship, to UCLA, and after red-shirting in 1999, he started every game as a Bruin freshman in 2000. Leisle earned second-team All-Pacific-10 honors in 2001 and was a preseason All-American in 2002, then missed five games because of a foot injury that required surgery.

Leisle considered declaring for the NFL draft last spring, but when league scouts told him he wouldn’t be picked in the first four rounds, Leisle decided to return to UCLA for his senior season and get his degree in history.

“After seeing all the defensive tackles that went in the high rounds, I’m really glad I stayed,” Leisle said. “It’s going to be to my advantage. I have another year to get better, another year for my foot to heal, and as a senior, it gives me a chance to shine.”

Maybe not on the stat sheet. After recording seven solo tackles, two assists and two sacks in a season-opening loss at Colorado, Leisle had no tackles in a 6-3 win over Illinois on Sept. 13 and three tackles, one for a loss, in the 59-24 loss at Oklahoma. He had four tackles against San Diego State.

But statistics for defensive tackles can be deceiving.

“It’s a unique position because you’re involved in so much contact on every play and, statistically, you might not look like a factor,” Johnson said. “But when you’re taking up double teams that allow those linebackers to roam and make plays, you’re doing an excellent job. Rodney graded out at 90% against Illinois, but if you look at the stats, you wouldn’t know he was even in the game.”

You can bet that the Illini knew he was there, though, just as San Diego State did and as Washington will in the second half Saturday. With those tattoos and that muscular frame -- he shaves his arms and chest to make himself look more buff and to be more slippery, so he’s harder for opponents to grasp -- Leisle is hard to miss.

But image isn’t everything. Beneath the scowl, behind the tattoos and under all that muscle is a big-hearted, respectful kid a mother can appreciate.

“When I look at him, I don’t see him as a hard-core football player,” Kathy Howarth said. “Once he puts a T-shirt on, he’s the same kid he’s always been to me. He’ll always be my boy.”