Michael Urias of Sheldon (Oregon) learned how to be a fighter — now he’s a linchpin of a talented offensive line

By Shane Hoffmann 

When former University of Oregon walk-on Josh Line entered the coaching realm, he had particular beliefs to which he was deeply devoted and unwavering in his stance. Beliefs about leading young men, about competition, about winning and losing and everything between. 

One of them went as such: As a football player, as a competitor, you either have “it” or you don’t. No gray area. 

Since taking over the Sheldon program in 2017 — after four years spent deftly guiding Marshfield’s program — Line has learned that, as it so happens, that’s not necessarily true. He’s let the contrasting theory drive a perennial playoff contender — one that gets the absolute most out of its players, squeezing the Talent Orange until it's dry.

“You can learn how to be tough,” he said. “You can learn how to stick your neck out there and know that it's worth it, and that you can go through some discomfort and failure and still come out on top.”

It’s been in the trenches where that lesson has repeatedly materialized for his Irish, shaping how a program that’s marched to eight state championship games since 2000 constructs things up front.

Rising senior Michael Urias is the Irish’s most recent paragon. In Line’s words, he is the epitome of Irish football.

“Unlike popular belief, we just don't have a bunch of really big, physical kids,” Line said. “But what we do have are kids that really care about playing for the Irish and care about their teammates, and that's what makes the difference for us.”

Some enter the program as ready-made brawlers on the football field. It’s almost immediately evident, Line said. Some don’t, instead gradually learning how to be fighters. Such has been the case for Urias, an offensive guard and a defensive tackle who has become a linchpin for Sheldon up front.

Becoming a fighter

The early years were disjointed for Urias.

He battled injuries (appearing in just three games as a freshman), seldom felt he belonged (in a sport he’d been playing only since eighth grade and with few peers matching his Latino heritage) and got his “butt kicked” frequently (he was undersized, both in frame and weight, for his position).

Even when Urias’ moment arrived, it came by way of a strike of fate.

Two-plus years in the Sheldon program had thickened his skin by his junior season. He’d transformed into a “lunch-pail player.” He’d become one of those fighters Line raves about.

“You can't have a closed mouth or you won't be fed,” Urias said.

He added: “I learned to take a beating, learn from that, and then not make the same mistakes twice.”

Urias was still learning the game, but he’d vastly matured physically (then up to a solid 240 pounds at 5-foot-10) and established himself as one of Sheldon’s top reserves on the offensive line after serving as a spot starter as a sophomore.

When the starter who won the spot over Urias in the offseason succumbed to injury, Urias stepped in at left guard, and fate met preparation. He forced the former starter to try to win it back, and he never surrendered it. He traversed the remainder of the season as an invaluable piece on the line, earning all-league and honorable mention all-state honors, while helping Sheldon reach the state final.

“He knows now that he's not made out of glass and that he can compete with some of the top players in the state,” Line said. “It's really fun to watch him grow in that way.”

The method to the madness

Sheldon offensive line coach Les Phillipo urges his disciples to think of themselves as fullbacks. Get in space. Be the aggressor.

The Irish, in part because of their tendency to roll out undersized linemen, run a screen-heavy offense. The offensive coordinators have allowed Phillipo to push the boundaries regarding the measurables of the players he puts up front, orchestrating offensive gameplans that live and die just as much in their ability to operate East to West as North to South.

“We find kids that have a lot of heart that put their bodies in the way and have that kind of little dog syndrome,” Phillipo said.

If the biggest linemen are the best linemen, so be it. But Phillipo and Co. don’t view sheer size as outright decisive in crafting a hierarchy. Phillipo likened it to a five-tool player in baseball. They want speed, toughness, technique, intelligence. Height and weight are just part of the equation. Several of the team’s best offensive tackles in years past have been converted running backs because of their knowledge of flow and scheme, he said.

Urias doubles as a short-distance runner for Sheldon track and field. He previously ran the 100-meter dash, and he recently switched to the 200. Not your everyday lineman.

The rest? The toughness, the technique, the grasp of the game — that’s a byproduct of the work.

The 2023 Irish will sport a host of new faces. Line said this year’s team could match up with the 2022 squad physically. The mental side, that invaluable in-game experience, is where they’ll have some climbing to do. It’s why Line and Phillipo will be pointing plenty of the underclassmen Urias’ way late this summer. Those newcomers aren’t 6-foot-5, 320 pounds. Likely never will be.

What they can be is Urias. He doesn’t embody something unattainable. He’s the exemplar of how to do more, with less, and do it so many times that you render those genetic predispositions moot.