Darrell Sapp, Post-Gazette NFL Hall of Famer Dick Butkus talks to the Montour players during the first practice of preseason camp. Click photo for larger image. Related article: Collier: Playing football for all the right reasons

Eighty-odd players formed orderly rows, a giant grid of teenage sweat. They stood and stretched, and coaches paced through the rows counting off every movement. All orderly. All fresh. All hopeful. The quintessential snapshot of high school sports, unfailingly familiar, generation to generation.

This is how high school football season begins -- quietly and anonymously, in the August heat. Only yesterday, when the Montour Spartans began summer two-a-days, a few differences poked into the snapshot.

Three camera crews, on site to begin filming for an ESPN reality television show (debuting Sept. 20, titled "Bound for Glory") that follows Montour throughout the season, aimed to capture every moment. When the team huddled, oversized microphones lurked overhead. At one point, a Montour equipment manager approached the team kicker, practicing his field goals, and told him, "If it's not a Reebok football, put it in the bag." Every player donned a practice jersey with his last name on the back. And perhaps most important, NFL Hall of Famer Dick Butkus paced from drill to drill, spending his first day as Montour's official head coach.

The Spartans practiced for nearly six hours yesterday, all for the sake of winning football games. They churned through sprints and slammed their bodies into sleds and never slowed to more than a jog -- even when going to get drinks of water. But it became tangibly apparent yesterday: This year, Montour's mission -- to rebuild a team than managed one win last season -- will double as entertainment for millions.

"I don't think we can honestly say we gave it 100 percent today," Butkus told the team after practice, as microphones leaned in.

During most of the afternoon practice, Butkus remained quiet, almost subdued. He admitted, when the players jogged to the locker room, that he still needed some time to develop comfort with his new job. After all, he's cautious about encroaching on the territory of Lou Cerro, who was Montour's official head coach until the reality show installed Butkus. The head coaching position, players, the playbook -- everything's new for Butkus.

Montour Spartans start their first workout with a jog around the practice field. Click photo for larger image.

"I know about 12 players so far," Butkus said, "but I don't know how to pronounce any of their names."

Only as the second practice session ended did Butkus become more animated. He'd spent the first hours of the day watching and evaluating, "trying not to step on any coach's feet." Then, Montour broke into an 11-on-11 drill, mostly with first-string players. Butkus took a spot in the middle of the field, positioned behind the secondary. His job? Watch the defense. And suddenly, he was no longer an uncertain rookie coach. His legend certified his authority.

"The first half [of the day] I was just trying to get my bearings, because I don't know how well this is perceived -- that I'm here, that there's this show," Butkus said. "But then I just said screw it, and if I saw something, I'd tell them."

Still, he stayed calm. The yelling erupted from other coaches, but Butkus -- his thick mustache shadowed by a white Reebok hat -- opted mostly for subtle one-on-one instruction. At least for the day, he played good cop. "Well," Cerro said, chuckling, "it's early yet."

When one cornerback was beaten badly on a deep pass, Butkus ambled toward the embarrassed player and asked what happened. The player had frozen on a pump fake. Butkus put one hand on the player's back and said, encouragingly, "Forget about it."

	While Coach Butkus watches the team the ESPN camera watches him. Click photo for larger image.

"I think with kids it gets old, the screaming," Butkus said. "It's best to keep it for when you really mean it." But then, true to his reputation as a player who once needed intensity as if it was air, Butkus thought back to the drill. All afternoon, his defensive backs had struggled with communication. "I mean, the ball is thrown and nobody says anything," Butkus said, shaking his head. "Jesus cripes."

Following practice, players were greeted with another reminder about the uncustomary path the upcoming season figures to take. Butkus, using his own money -- roughly $8,000, one producer estimated -- had paid for his personal cardiologist, Dr. Larry Santora, to come from Orange County, Calif., and perform heart screenings for all the Montour players. The three-part test -- which included an electrocardiogram -- was designed to test for congenital heart abnormalities, which have caused several deaths on football fields in recent years.

Earlier, Butkus had even asked players to fill out five-part questionnaires, designed to help him identify and learn about Montour's shortcomings in recent years. In the questionnaire, players said last year's team lacked proper coaching and motivation.

So Butkus aimed to take away their excuses.

"You've already got a better offseason program," Butkus told the players. "You've already got a better coaching staff. Now, it's on you."