COLLEGE STATION, Texas — Sam Saltz emerged from Texas A&M's Bright Football Complex at dusk in early February, eager to explain how he got here.
“There it is,” he pointed, holding the yarmulke in his other hand. “That's where the incident happened.”
The land in the distance was adjacent to where the Aggies football team practiced. In the spring of 2021, when Salz was just a student with a dream, he arrived at the field an hour before Texas A&M's practice every day and stayed an hour after practice.
Salz, a 5-foot-6, 160-pound Orthodox Jewish student who had never played organized soccer, planned to try out for an SEC program as a walk-on. He tried to get in shape and get faster, even if he didn't know how. He used an old shoe instead of a drill cone. He lined up trash cans to mimic the line of scrimmage. He wasn't wearing spikes. He wasn't even in a position to practice. he just worked.
Salz, a graduate of Kohelet Yeshiva High School, a Modern Orthodox college preparatory school in Philadelphia and one of about 100 students who did not form a soccer team, had an impossible mission. And, as always, he had a plan.
Salz thought he would get noticed if he showed up every day and trained like he was part of the team. But he didn't leave it to chance. That fall, he attended then-head coach Jimbo Fisher's weekly radio show at Rudy's Country Store and BBQ and met the man who would decide his fate.
“I walked up to him, looked him in the eye and said, 'I'm Sam Saltz, and I'm walking to your football team,'” he recalled, adding that the team required walk-ons to play. ignored the policy. High school varsity football.
Fischer looked back at the diminutive Salz, more polite than serious, and replied, “I'd be honored.”
Salz kept coming back to the radio show, just as he always did when he came to that land. He approached Fisher again and asked if he could attend practice to better understand what the Aggies had done. Salz wrote down what he learned and incorporated it into his self-training.
The field used by Salz was separated from the Aggies' practice field by a chain-link fence.
“I told myself, 'I belong to this team,'” Salz said. “They're practicing on the other side of the fence and I'm practicing on this side of the fence, but I'm part of the team. That was my strong belief. We practiced, but the energy was It was great. I would come home from practice and see this guy in a yarmulke training every day, and some of the coaches would notice. I’ll try it.”
Salz also didn't realize the coaches were talking about him.
Salz, 21, became obsessed with college football at an early age, although he can't pinpoint exactly why.
“People always talk to me about 'Rudy,'” Saltz said of the popular movie about Notre Dame fans who would do anything to make the team. “That's interesting, I've never seen it before.”
College football games are primarily played on Shabbat, the Jewish Sabbath, which runs from sunset on Friday to sunset on Saturday. As a result, he didn't grow up watching sports.
For observant Orthodox Jews, the Sabbath is a full day of communion with God, including Torah study, prayer, and interaction with the community. Jewish law limits distractions. There are no rules for labor, weight lifting, cooking, cleaning, doing business, using electricity, riding motorized vehicles, etc.
And obviously not playing soccer.
Sam Saltz will only be able to suit up for the Aggies after dark for Saturday's game. (Texas A&M Athletics)
So what drew Salz to Texas A&M?
When he was in high school, Salz, like many other kids, got caught up in the Dude Perfect craze on the internet. A group of his friends recorded the trick shot and posted it on his YouTube, causing it to take the web by storm. Salz learned that the members of Dude Perfect, now headquartered in Frisco, Texas, were roommates at Texas A&M University. Salz fell in love with the school, a former military institution known for its big ambitions, respected traditions, oil tycoons and its Friday night Midnight Ale and Saturday Aggies football games.
Sam Saltz started as a running back but is now a wide receiver for the Aggies. (Texas A&M Athletics)
he investigated. The university has a total student body of more than 70,000 students, and according to the university's Hillel website, there are an estimated 500 Jewish students on campus, less than 1 percent of the population.
He contacted Rabbi Yossi Lazaroff of Texas A&M Chabad. He concluded that College Station was the best fit.
“It was really about the culture, what the school represents and the alumni network,” he said. “It's very different from other schools in America. We also have a strong, though not large, Jewish community.”
Saltz said he felt a desire to prove to himself and to other Orthodox Jews that religious beliefs need not interfere with goals or the pursuit of happiness. For him, it was somehow related to football.
“I've always been a 'see if I can do it' type of person,” Salz said. “I don't know how this came into my head. People may think I'm BS-ing, but I always believed in my head, ever since I was a little kid, that I was going to play college football.” I had to, otherwise I wouldn't have been able to do all the things I could, or should have done in life.”
When Salz was a child, his school held a cookie dough fundraiser. The student who sold the most won a flat screen television. Saltz was hooked and, with the help of a family friend of his who was an accountant, devised a sales strategy.
“He won,” said his mother, Marianna Salz. “I'm of the mindset that if I want to try something, I'll just go ahead and try it.” He's a determined guy. When he said he wanted to do this, I thought, “Okay, this is next.'' Try it. Do it. '”
Even with all his planning, Saltz never dreamed that Fisher would see him working out from his office at Kyle Field.
“In the offseason, even on the days we didn't practice, he was still playing,” said Mark Robinson, then associate athletic director at Texas A&M and now chief of staff at the University of Florida. Ta. “There's a balcony overlooking the fields.[Fisher]saw him there and just said, 'That's the same kid that comes on the radio show.' He's always training and I love his drive. ”
When he first arrived in College Station in 2021, Salz was taking online classes at the Texas A&M System school and couldn't try out for the football team until he became a full-time student on the main campus. And before the 2022 season, Texas A&M did not hold walk-on tryouts because there were too many players in the program.
But during a difficult 2022 season that included a six-game losing streak, Fisher wanted to say something in the locker room. He wanted to add to his roster someone like Salz who wanted something bigger than what seemed possible and was willing to work for it.
“Around halfway through the season, I got an email from Mark,” Salz said.
Robinson's email was simple. “Sam, do you have time to come to the football office today or tomorrow?”
Salz said yes and received detailed information about the walk-on process, but he couldn't help himself.
He screamed, jumped up and down, and fist pumped as hard as he could.
Fisher and Robinson invited him to the team even though he lacked the size and experience needed to compete in the SEC.
“I don't want to seem arrogant or assertive when I say this. But there were things that I was willing to do that most people wouldn't do.” said Salz. “I made connections with people and made them aware of my presence. I think (Fisher) appreciated that tenacity. That was something that old-school coaches would appreciate.”
Salz never hid his faith and proudly wore the yarmulke and tzitzit, the head coverings and knotted fringe and tassels of Jewish prayer shawls that remind us of the 613 commandments of the Torah. . However, he was initially concerned that the coaching staff did not understand the time constraints of his religion and his need to eat only kosher food.
Sam Saltz attended a high school with about 100 students. He is currently on a team that plays in stadiums with more than 100,000 seats.
But Texas A&M accommodated Salz. He is not expected to participate in team activities on Jewish holidays. He missed the first practice after being invited to the team due to Yom Kippur. Tiffany Ilten, the team's nutritionist, makes sure Salz has access to kosher food from a dealership in Cherry Hill, New Jersey. A sign on the microwave at the team facility says “Kosher food only.''
“Our main priority was to ensure that all of our student-athletes were provided with food and nutrition,” Ilten said. “It was tough at first, but not in a bad way. It was something new that we all had to educate ourselves on.”
Like Salz, Robinson, who is Jewish, connected by wearing tefillin, small leather boxes and straps wrapped around their arms and heads, symbolically linking them to God.
Salz, who remains with the program after Fisher was fired and Mike Elko was hired in November, started at running back. He was brought in slowly, but still lacked his fundamental knowledge of football and the physical structure to run between the tackles. The longer he is with the team, the more likely he will be included on the scout team, where he will have the most impact.
He moved to receiver, where Texas A&M needed depth. He understands his physical limitations when competing against elite athletes. But while talking about it, he shared a clip of himself with his hands in his pockets running a drag route and making a nice catch during practice.
“He's always working hard,” Texas A&M strength coach Tommy Moffitt said. “There was a size difference between him and the other players, but he didn't care about it. The players hugged him and he wagged his tail off.”
Added former A&M wide receiver Ainias Smith, the Eagles' fifth-round pick in the 2024 NFL Draft. Everyone seems to feel successful when they reach this point. His story motivates us to keep going. ”
Salz believes he is the only Orthodox Jewish player in college football. It's not something that's tracked by the NCAA.
Perhaps his biggest challenge is accepting that no matter how good he gets, there will always be limitations come game day. If the Aggies play during the day, he cannot attend because he is observing his Sabbath.
For night games, he walks more than a mile from his apartment to Kyle Field. An employee at the entrance let him into the building, but the thumbprint scanner was not available on his Sabbath, so he finished his Sabbath in the team room. He studies the Torah, eats a meal, and puts on his suit before the sun sets. Midway through the third quarter, he emerged from the tunnel and joined the team wearing a No. 39 jersey, yarmulke and tzitzit.
“My teammates joke that my rating should be 99 overall in the new NCAA video game, but I'm only available in the fourth quarter of night games,” he said.
Salz has not played in the game yet. He was unable to participate in Texas A&M's all-walk-on kickoff team (a nod to the 12-man kickoff teams of the 1980s) that beat Abilene Christian last November because the game was during the day.
So why does he put this routine on himself without the reward of ultimately playing?
“I know why I'm doing it. It's for my Jewish brothers and sisters,” Salz said. “I thought I would be in a position to be an inspiration to a lot of people.”
(Top image Dan Goldfarb / The Athletic; Photo: Courtesy of Texas A&M Athletics)
