Column: Carl Pelini more complex than Internet tells us

Bryce Miller | USATODAY

It's tricky living in Lincoln, Neb., these days if your last name is Pelini.

Just ask Carl, the Pelini who returned to the city where his brother, Bo, was fired after learning that nine wins each season mean little to Big Red-dom if Wisconsin keeps giving you football wedgies.

Carl, a former defensive coordinator for the Cornhuskers, had slid into an intentionally subtle life that included his son's baseball tournaments and football games, poking his head out just enough to teach a composition class at a local community college.

The football bug lingered, though, even after Pelini was fired as head coach of Florida Atlantic amid whispers of drug use. The rumors stained and strained him, especially given that scant few — including stubborn Internet search engines — recall that the interim president shoo-ed away the allegations as the reason Pelini was shown the coaching door.

When the Des Moines Register reported this week that Pelini had inquired about the football job Des Moines Lincoln High School, scabs were ripped bloody anew.

"I'm tired of this. I'm tired of the Twitter and the Internet and all that," Pelilni said in a telephone interview, with a voice strikingly devoid of anger — sounding more tired than ticked-off. "I just want to go live a normal life and naively felt like high school coaching might be a way to do that. Obviously, I was wrong about that.

"Just go back to be being a father and a normal person was all my intention was and then, here we are again — I'm right back where I was a year ago."

First of all, I understand that writing about Pelini again contributes to the attention he's labored to avoid. Pelini, though, repeatedly said he understood why someone would report the story, even as he puzzled over why the school would confirm his involvement.

Pelini called me to clarify his situation and, in the process, painted a picture of someone far removed from a coach desperate to return to jock-culture — no matter the playing level or potential for ridicule.

The more he talked, the more it reminded of how we fail to understand the treacherous nature of coaching in the 21st century.

"That Internet is just ruthless," he said.

Pelini comes off as, well, awfully likeable. He makes difficult, personal points without a raised voice or ounce of venom. He's measured and calm and genuinely seems to listen. A conversation with Pelini makes you stop and think, "This guy was probably a phenomenal high school coach."

Pelini easily admits faults and flaws about things we know and things we surely don't.

The person on the other end of the phone sounds like someone who wants to hit the re-start button, at age 49, to land in a simpler place.

"My social life strictly revolves around taking my son to baseball tournaments, going to his football games," Pelini said Thursday. "He plays travel hockey — in fact, I'm in Des Moines this weekend for the Midwest championships with him. That's my social life."

Pelini adds regret about what the game he loves can deliver in its darkest corners: "I got into coaching and at some point, I ended up in the entertainment industry. I'm not sure how it happened."

For anyone who smirked at the news someone who worked in college football's spotlight at a place like Nebraska was considering a high school job — and for a moment, I was one of them — a conversation with Pelini spins the thought process 180 degrees.

Pelini might work in medical sales. He might take a radio job. He might continue helping community college students shape futures. He might never step on the sidelines again, admitting as much as we talked.

If this Pelini rushes back into the game, though, the purity of high school football, the absence of money, the lack of boosters and uncomfortable influence surely sounds like a gulp of fresh, invigorating air.

Is there resurrection after a tabloid-styled fall in major-college football — especially in the era of the Internet? Is there rebirth that salvages pride and paycheck alike after our collective sports appetite chews a person up and spits them back out?

Carl Pelini isn't sure. I'm not sure, either.

Our default position in the day of smartphones is to believe the first thing that pops on the screen and sort out the truth later, if at all. Pelini understands that uncomfortably well.

"At that point in your life, do I fight it and try to inform everybody (of the false allegations) or do I just go away?" Pelini said. "Believe me, there were a lot of people in my life on both sides of the issue."

Bryce Miller writes for the Des Moines Register.

THROUGH THE YEARS: CARL PELINI