At the end of every session, in order to instill a culture of competition, Herman throws a rope onto the mat and chooses sides for tug of war. He pitted Ward, who stood a shade south of 6 feet and 180 pounds, against a linebacker. Ward barely lost, fighting until he panted. “Greg Ward, up again!” Herman called. Another fresh body grabbed the other end of the rope. Then another. And another. Eight times, Herman sent Ward back to the middle of the mat. Eight times, he could not make Ward quit.

“He’s got nothing left in the tank, but he kept putting his hands back on that rope,” Herman recalled. “Other guys might have flopped down on the ground or said they had hand burns. He got right back on that rope.”

Herman knew then that Ward had the competitiveness required to be his quarterback. He still worried about his size, the attribute that had indirectly driven Ward to Houston in the first place, but other factors kept convincing him. Teammates respected Ward. He had great speed and excelled in agility drills. “If this kid can throw it a lick,” Herman thought, “I think we got a chance to turn him into a pretty good quarterback.”

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Ward has turned into so much more, and with him as the engine of Herman’s magnificent offensive machine, Houston has transformed into an unlikely national power. The Cougars, who on Saturday will face Navy in Annapolis, are the defending Peach Bowl champions, ranked No. 6 and a threat to crash the College Football Playoff. If not for the fluorescence of Louisville’s Lamar Jackson, Ward could make a case as the nation’s best player. Since Herman arrived, he has started 17 games, and the Cougars have won all 17, including upsets of Florida State and Oklahoma.

The union of Ward and Herman has taken Houston to new heights. Herman has become the hottest coaching candidate in the country, a literal Mensa member making fan bases from Baton Rouge to Los Angeles drool. It happened largely because of how he molded Ward, an undersized quarterback with uncommon drive and unflinching belief in himself.

At John Tyler High in Tyler, Tex., Ward started his career as a wide receiver, but Coach Ricklan Holmes always knew Ward would become his quarterback. By his junior year, he had become a star, but 5-10, 170-pound athletes are rarely recruited to play quarterback.

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All the regional powers — Oklahoma, Texas, Oklahoma State, Texas A&M — visited John Tyler High. Those big-school coaches, intrigued by his quickness and blazing speed, envisioned Ward as a cornerback or slot receiver. “If you want to win, you’re going to recruit him as a quarterback,” Holmes told them, “because that’s what he is.”

Only two schools offered Ward the chance to play quarterback: a historically black university just starting its football program and Houston, then under Coach Tony Levine. Rather than play receiver in the Big 12, Ward chose to play quarterback in the American Athletic Conference.

“I knew what I was capable of,” Ward said. “I knew that God had given me the ability to play quarterback.”

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Even under Levine, Ward started his career as a wideout. After practices, he would throw passes to teammate Wayne Beadle to keep his arm fresh. Midway through his sophomore season, his chance came, and he led the Cougars to the Armed Forces Bowl, in which he directed a furious fourth-quarter comeback over Pittsburgh.

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When Houston plucked Herman, who had been Ohio State’s offensive coordinator, Ward had a new staff to convince. “My initial reaction was, ‘Wow, this guy is small,’ ” offensive coordinator and quarterbacks coach Major Applewhite said. Herman courted a fifth-year transfer, Adam Schulz from Utah, as insurance. But once he watched Ward in a couple practices, Ward won him over. “It was a no-brainer,” Herman said.

Applewhite and Herman agreed they would not make Ward a better runner or greatly enhance his sophistication within a new offense in one spring. They wanted Ward to gain weight in order to better protect himself; Applewhite said he weighed 172 pounds after the Armed Forces Bowl, and now he pushes 190. Ward ate every two or three hours, three big meals and three snacks every day, while constantly drinking water and protein shakes. To keep tabs, he took pictures of what he ate and sent them to the team nutritionist.

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“I was never a guy that would eat a lot,” Ward said. “Having had to do that was difficult.”

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Herman wanted him to tweak his mechanics, to keep his elbow up when he threw. When Applewhite watched film, he noticed too many deep sacks and risky passes. “There were some balls thrown up with ‘to whom it may concern’ on it,” Applewhite said. They gave Ward a simple mandate: Eliminate disaster.

In a new offense, Ward exploded. He joined Clemson’s Deshaun Watson as the only quarterbacks in the country to run for 1,000 yards and throw for 2,000. He indeed largely averted disaster, throwing only six interceptions all season while rushing for 21 touchdowns.

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With a full offseason, Herman, Applewhite and Ward formed what Applewhite called a “three-headed monster” in order to build Ward into an even greater force. They created a strict schedule. In the mornings, he would treat his arms and legs in an ice bath and eat an enormous breakfast. When the spring came, he studied film on his iPad from the previous day’s practice before coming to meetings. He started arriving with complex questions. He never backed down, still the competitor willing to grab hold of the rope.

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“We were extremely hard on him in the progression,” Applewhite said. “Nothing was ever good enough. Greg responded to that. Good enough is not good enough for him.”

Applewhite came up with three objectives, starting with “Pull the trigger”: In spring practice, Applewhite told Ward to attempt passes in small windows with impunity — interceptions would not only be tolerated but celebrated. He wanted Ward to attempt bold passes, a trial-and-error way to determine which passes he could make and which he should avoid.

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Second, coaches implored Ward to hang an extra second in the pocket. By accepting contact from onrushing defenders, he could create bigger passing plays. His progress showed last week against Connecticut, when he tossed a deep touchdown pass while a pass rusher blasted him.

“He’s waiting that extra split second for his receiver to get open,” Herman said. “Last year, he would have tucked it and ran if he saw any flash of the opposite jersey color. That extra split second can be the time between a touchdown and a scramble for five yards.”

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Coaches challenged him to understand not just what plays to run and how, but also why. This season, he has returned to the sideline with specific ideas, such as suggesting coaches dial up a certain route on third down based on a coverage he saw on a prior third down.

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Ward’s expanded knowledge has given him confidence to lead as a senior. He said he has always been a “let-my-actions-speak-for-themselves guy,” but this season he has made a conscious effort at vocalizing. Coaches showed him clips of Russell Wilson and Aaron Rodgers demonstrating leadership — making eye contact, placing a hand on a teammate’s shoulder, imploring with specifics (“Protect the ball”) rather than generalities (“Come on, let’s go”).