Superbowl Champion Becomes Super Baal Teshuva

Motek

Wed, Feb 06 2008, 3:07 pm

I see that the link in the first post no longer works, so here is a replacement:

Quote:

The Teshuva Journey: From The Super Bowl To The Shabbas Table

He’s probably the only observant Jew to own a Super Bowl ring and one of the few Jews to ever play in the NFL. However for Alan Veingrad the journey back to his roots after his retirement was more exciting than any game on the field.

Alan played for five years as an Offensive Lineman on the Green Bay Packers, and then joined the Dallas Cowboys in 1991. It was with the Cowboys that he became the proud recipient of a Super Bowl XXVII ring, from their 1993 win.

After retiring in 1993 Alan faced a problem common to former NFLers: he had a complete loss of what to do with his life. Players in the NFL are constantly on the go and are always surround by teammates, so often have trouble filling their time when they retire.

“You go through this major void in your life,” Alan said. “I know players 10, 15 years out of the league who are still in the void. Where’s my locker, my itinerary, who are we playing next?”

During this period Alan and his wife received an invitation for a Shabbas dinner from a cousin who had become religious. It was their first authentic Shabbas experience, but wasn’t quite the life-changing moment one would expect.

“Throughout the meal he was talking about the parsha of the week. … Each of his four kids were giving over Dvrai Torah that they learned in school that week,” Alan said. “I was eating the Teriyaki Salmon, the brisket in large quantities. I was so focused on consuming food I wasn’t involved at all in the discussion. Nothing inspired me.”

After dinner, Alan’s cousin asked him if he would be interested in attending a local class given by a Rabbi. He accepted out of obligation. The class was held the following week in a mansion close to the Veingrads’ Florida home.

“For the first 59 and a half minutes of the 60 minute class I was so consumed with the location, this beautiful mansion hosting the class. I had never seen a house like this! I kept thinking, ‘Is this house worth four million or five million or six million?’” Alan said. Thirty seconds before the class ended, the Rabbi suddenly began talking about envy and materialism. He said if you let yourself be consumed by jealousy, it will only lead to emptiness and a complete void in your life.

“How did this rabbi know what I’ve been thinking for the last 59 and a half minutes?” Alan thought to himself.

The class ended, and Alan ran up to the Rabbi.

“Hey, I need more information about what you’re talking about!” Alan said. The Rabbi told him to come back the following week for the answers, and after that Alan began attending the class each week.

Over the next several years in the class, Alan began learning about Judaism’s focus on self-improvement and ethics, and especially its lessons for being a better spouse and father. He had always been interested in motivational tapes and books, especially those from famous athletes and coaches. He never imagined that he would find these lessons in his own religion. He always thought the Torah was just a history book, but when he discovered its deep focus on personal change, he jumped at the chance to learn more.

After a few years Alan and his family joined a local Chabad synagogue and were touched by the welcoming members and the warmth of the Rabbi’s family. The people Alan met were truly living the lessons he had learned in his class.

The camaraderie in the synagogue helped Alan fill the void he felt in his post-NFL life, and it would soon play an even more important role. Alan’s father passed away a few months after he became observant, and Alan was at a complete loss of what to do. He didn’t know how to organize a Jewish burial and mourning. The community rushed in and took care of all the arrangements, including providing meals for Alan and his family for the first few weeks.

“No teamwork I had ever seen in the NFL matched what I experienced in that little Chabad house in Fort Lauderdale.”

Throughout his life, Alan’s father had so much pride that his son had played football in the NFL. He carried Alan’s football card in his wallet, and showed it to everyone he met.

A few months before his death, he said something to Alan that would stay with him forever. He said he could really see amazing differences in his son and grandchildren since they had become religious. Because of this he was more proud to see his son in a yarmulke than he had ever been to see him in his football helmet. “That was so powerful to me,” Alan said.

For each of us, every day is a Super Bowl. The real test is not how we perform for thousands of adoring fans, but how we treat our spouses, our kids and those around us. And while no one will ever receive a Super Bowl ring for this, we all have a chance to be MVPs in our own lives.

The Teshuva Journey is a monthly column chronicling amazing teshuva journeys and inspiring kiruv tales. To share a story or send other comments, email michaelgros@gmail.com
(published in The Jewish Press April 20, 2007)

ChossidMom

Wed, Mar 05 2008, 6:09 am

http://www.miamiherald.com/spo......html

Former NFL lineman Alan Veingrad struggled with retirement until he found his calling in Orthodox Judaism.
Posted on Tue, Mar. 04, 2008
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BY MICHELLE KAUFMAN
mkaufman@MiamiHerald.com

Alan Veingrad is a former Dallas Cowboy turned Orthodox Jew. Here he is at Coral Springs Chabad synagogue on Sunday morning with the Torah.
LILLY ECHEVERRIA / MIAMI HERALD STAFF
Alan Veingrad is a former Dallas Cowboy turned Orthodox Jew. Here he is at Coral Springs Chabad synagogue on Sunday morning with the Torah.

Shlomo Veingrad's broad shoulders are wrapped in a prayer shawl, and at six-foot-five, he towers over the other Orthodox Jewish congregants at the Coral Springs Chabad. He hoists the heavy Torah scroll over his head with ease: Those same long, mighty arms spent seven years shoving aside NFL defensive linemen to clear space for Troy Aikman and Emmitt Smith.

As an offensive lineman for the Green Bay Packers and the Dallas Cowboys from 1986 to 1993, Alan Veingrad, 44, a Miami Sunset High grad, wore giant shoulder pads under his jersey. Now, his undergarments are ''tzitzit'' -- knotted fringes that serve as a reminder of his commitment to Judaism.

Back then, before he wore a yarmulke on his head, before he grew a long, thick beard, before he kept kosher, he studied playbooks instead of scriptures. His inspiration was Jimmy Johnson; his most prized possession was his Super Bowl ring.

That Super Bowl was in 1993, and it would be his last. Newly married and his body aching from Johnson's ''bloodbath'' practices, Veingrad retired.

But like many professional athletes who become reliant on built-in structure and motivation from coaches, Veingrad felt lost when the cheering stopped. An Orthodox cousin invited him for Sabbath dinner, and thus began his metamorphosis. After spending most of his life in a violent, macho world where men bragged about material possessions and s-xual escapades, Veingrad was intrigued by the simpler, gentler Orthodox way of life.

He went to Israel and came back wearing a yarmulke and calling himself by his Hebrew name, a man transformed.

''I'm one of those guys who was always starved for inspiration, had every Vince Lombardi book, Zig Ziglar tapes, and I realized the Torah was not a boring history book, but a very inspirational guide to life,'' Veingrad said. ``It's a battery pack. The more I learned, the deeper I wanted to go. I wanted real Judaism, authentic, not watered down. I don't do anything watered down.''

Local Hasidic rabbis say his bigger-than-life appearance and his engaging personality make him an inspiration.

''He has been able to channel that dedication and commitment he had for football to Judaism while living in a very secular environment,'' said Rabbi Schneur Kaplan of the Fort Lauderdale Downtown Chabad.

``People are drawn to him because he played in the NFL, won a Super Bowl, he's a guy people can relate to and he has a powerful message not just for Jews, but for all people, that it's possible to live in this world and find time for faith and family. People see me, a rabbi, and think I don't understand them. A football player is a real guy, and that captivates people.''

Said older brother Steve Veingrad, a Miami-Dade police officer: ``I was shocked at first, thought it was like a cult, but now I see he's found happiness and tranquillity, and I'm proud of him.

`OPENED MY MIND'

``He went from Super Bowl to Super Jew. His new life isn't really for me, but in December I did buy myself a little mezuzah [doorpost prayer scroll] that I wear on a chain around my neck, under my uniform. He opened my mind.''

The old Veingrad's perfect Saturday was spent with beer and buddies watching college football. Now, he walks to synagogue for Sabbath services with his family. Veingrad fully observes the day of rest -- which means no driving, cellphone, television, cooking and no flipping light switches. He spends the day praying, studying and bonding with his three children.

Veingrad was born Jewish and had a bar mitzvah at age 13 at Temple Zion in Kendall. Like many secular Jews, his family lit Sabbath candles on occasion, went to High Holy Day services twice a year, but that was about it. ''The bar mitzvah should be an entry to Judaism, and for me it was an exit,'' he said.

Though he wasn't religious, he felt excluded at times.

One of the few Jewish players at Sunset High, Veingrad would bow his head in silence when Fellowship of Christian Athletes representatives led the team in the Lord's Prayer before practice and games.

''It never bothered me because it was something you were used to hearing if you were a football player,'' he said. Later, in his college days at East Texas State, ``most of my teammates were from the Bible Belt and had never met a Jewish person.''

Veingrad said he never experienced anti-Semitism on the football field. His teammates at college, now known as Texas A&M at Commerce, invited him to fish and ride horses on their ranches. A few years ago, he was inducted into the school's Sports Hall of Fame, and they rescheduled the ceremony to accommodate his Sabbath observance.

During his tryout for the college team, Veingrad admits, he pulled a fast one on the coaches in the 40-yard dash. When the coach with the stopwatch turned his back to walk toward the finish line, Veingrad took a gigantic step forward.

''Ready, Set, Go!'' the coach yelled. Veingrad just made the required time of 4.9 seconds and got a scholarship. He and coach Ernest Hawkins would laugh later about his 39-yard dash.

''He was a tall, skinny kid, pretty good speed and strength,'' Hawkins recalls. ``He had good intelligence and was a real hard worker.''

Veingrad considered the NFL an unrealistic goal. But an assistant coach said NFL scouts would like his long arms and height. He kept working out and bulking up and got what looked like a break -- the Tampa Bay Buccaneers signed him as a free agent in 1985. He was cut 10 days later. Another tryout with the Houston Oilers ended the same way.

Veingrad bided his time as a student-coach at East Texas State, finishing his degree. Then the Packers called, and this tryout led to five years in Green Bay -- during which he started ahead of Tony Mandarich, a hotshot young lineman.

He signed as a free agent with the Cowboys in 1991 for $1.4 million.

Always one of the first to arrive at synagogue, Veingrad credits coach Johnson for his punctuality.

''If the meeting started at 7 o'clock, you were expected to be there at 6:50,'' Veingrad said. ``Jimmy said if you got there right at 7 . . . you couldn't switch from cutting up in the hallway with your friends to being in the mind-frame for a meeting. I bring that lesson to the religious world.

``If showing up for meetings with Jimmy Johnson 10 minutes ahead of time was important, how much more important is showing up early to shul [synagogue] to meet with the King of all Kings, God Almighty?''

Johnson hasn't seen the new Veingrad, slimmed 60 pounds to 225 from his playing days, but he isn't surprised the former Cowboy is taking his new calling seriously.

''Alan was a very intelligent player who gave outstanding effort, and he became valuable because he was versatile and could play any position on the line,'' Johnson said. ``Had he not been intelligent and not tried hard, he wouldn't have made it in the NFL.''

BUSINESS MEETINGS

He insists he doesn't miss being a pro -- and rarely even watches football anymore. As for his Super Bowl ring, he wears it only for speaking engagements and important business meetings.

``I loved the games, the challenge, the competition. I was a very intense player, and I loved Sundays. There is nothing like it, can't replace that feeling of coming out of a tunnel in Green Bay, beautiful blue sky, 50 degrees, the smell of beer and brats in the air.

``I get a charge from different things now.''

Veingrad was divorced from the mother of his three kids a few years ago and re-married Chaya, who is also Orthodox, last month. He works for Silverhill Financial, a commercial mortgage lending company, during the week.

On the side, he travels the country giving speeches, mostly to Jewish groups.

``When I speak at Anytown USA and tell my story and people come up later and say they're going to change their lives, that's not a game. That's real life.''

Veingrad's father, Leo, was uneasy with his son's Orthodox life at first. When Shlomo invited him to Shabbat dinner and services, he politely declined, saying, ``That's for you; it's not for me, son.''

But he had started to come around by the time he died three years ago. He gave a $100 donation to his son's synagogue, and even more telling was something he said.

'My dad said, `Son, I was really proud of you as a football player with that Packers and Cowboys helmet on your head, but I'm prouder of you with the yarmulke on your head,' '' Veingrad said, stroking his flowing beard. ``Amazing.''