Saturday's Celebration of Life, in honor of Fred Arp, is open to the public and will begin inside the ARC Pavilion at 11 a.m. Event host and former UC Davis Athletics Communications Director Mike Robles will join family members, friends and distinguished guests in honoring Arp, a member of the UC Davis family for nearly five decades who coached hundreds of student-athletes throughout his distinguished career.


Even though the bleachers at Toomey Field are gone, if you stand under the old scoreboard at the south end of what used to be the gridiron, you can still hear the impact.

Listen ...

That still-audible echo is from former Aggie defensive end Casey Merrill rearranging the gear of the opposing quarterback on the first play of a 1977 game against visiting Nevada.

"(That sack) set the tone," says Davis Enterprise columnist Bob Dunning, a man who has written about Aggie football for most of the past five decades. "It was the largest crowd in UC Davis history and a big upset for the Aggies."

Before more than 12,500 fans, coach Jim Sochor, Merrill and those Aggies ran rough-shod over the Wolf Pack, 37-21, in arguably UC Davis' most significant football victory up to that time.

I got a chance to talk at length with Merrill, knowing he would be one of the many heading to town for Saturday's salute to his late mentor, Fred Arp.

Merrill arrived in Davis in 1975. The Monte Vista High graduate wanted to play football with his brother Charlie, who already was an Aggie standout. Together for one year, the Merrills were integral parts of a 7-3 season (which included a 38-3 shellacking of Sacramento State).

Casey remembers those early days of Sochor's emerging program:

"Frankly, we had pretty poor equipment. One year we (were issued) used soccer shoes," Merrill recalls with a laugh, adding, "Of course, they'd give you Dr. Scholl's inserts ... and we'd all feel pretty lucky about that."

One year, the Aggies headed to Portland State. AstroTurf had just been installed at the stadium, and the team's footwear didn't match this surface.
"We had cleats that year," Merrill recalls. "We were sliding all over the place."

Sochor knew his troops were under-equipped, didn't receive scholarships and didn't have a fancy facility, but those things had nothing to do with his players' minds, bodies or desire. Sochor, too, was lucky to have assistant coaches like Bob Foster, Lou Bronzan, Phil Swimley and Arp on his staff.
An All-American, Merrill was particularly grateful to have defensive-line guru Arp as his boss.

"He was a teacher, a patient man — not a holler-and-scream guy like the coaches I had previously (and after)," Merrill says of Arp, who died suddenly in July at age 73.

"Fred was a warm person, his wife Jane was really sweet, and they treated us more like nephews than just players. They would host functions for the defensive line, and if we dragged in a linebacker, they were welcome, too.

"Fred and Jane made it more like a family environment," Merrill says, adding that "the family atmosphere was very helpful" on the field and in the classroom.

Arp would work out Merrill and company under shade trees near Toomey Field off of Howard Way. The rest of the team started calling the D-linemen "Club Fred" and their workouts became known as "shade drills."

Merrill says Fred didn't care because he understood that his guys would be ready to roll on Saturday. Arp took things in stride.

"He was really patient," Merrill explains, pressing his memory for further details. "We did a lot of stupid stuff. He'd let you know if you messed up — but he'd do it in a diplomatic manner. Plus, you could usually tell just by his facial expressions if he was disappointed."

Arp found a way to mix the seriousness of a rising football program with the things he enjoyed. Merrill remembers Fred in the film room: "He'd be watching film ... but listening to The Eagles."

Merrill and others remember the Arps hosting players at their ranch near Colfax. Between bites, there were bits of wisdom the young Aggies could take back onto the football field — or down the road after graduation.

"He was a regular guy and he was warm and he was knowledgeable," Merrill recalls.

Because of the Arps, Merrill remembers a "human and personable" environment at UC Davis. "And people want to work harder in that environment because somebody is extending courtesies and caring about you," he adds.

Merrill went on to become an eight-year veteran of the NFL. In his four-year stay with the Green Bay Packers, Merrill and his pro club started working with him on something he and Arp tinkered with at UC Davis — a defensive end, dropping off in pass coverage, other times dropping back, then blitzing from the pseudo-linebacker position.

With his 4.65 speed, Merrill became the first "designated pass rusher in the NFL ... to pass rush from both positions," The Sporting News reported.
Merrill lives in Bermuda Dunes while working in the Los Angeles region for Collier's International as an executive manager director with an eye on commercial appraisals.

So, when San Diego comes calling this weekend, will Merrill (in his 6-foot-4 frame) have any kind of urge to hop back on the field?

"Ya know, I was at a Packers reunion about four years ago," Merrill told me. "(The retired veterans) were all geeked up and felt like we're ready to go, standing by the tunnel where Aaron Rodgers and Clay Matthews and all the guys are coming out ... we're high-fiving them as they go by.

"Then we're standing right next to Boyz II Men singing the national anthem, then this flyover with the jets. Your goosebumps have shot up and we're all like, 'Oh, man. We can go out there and kick their butts. They're not that big.' We don't need shoulder pads or a helmet, we're thinking. We were ready."
The game goes on, Merrill explains. There's the food, drink and a long afternoon at Lambeau Field. The Packers lose. It's time to go home ...

"We're walking back to the bus and reality sets in. We're all limping, walking slow and I thought, 'Oh, what a sorry group we are. Three hours earlier we felt like we could have gone out and contributed."

So, Casey, does this mean you're not suiting up Saturday?

Hmmmm. What would Fred say?