By Sean McClelland Dayton Daily News

CHICAGO | With only a slight breeze to take their minds off the humidity, the Chicago Fire sweep across a baseball outfield while an Anna Kournikova lookalike retreats from the bleachers to the tennis courts. Welcome to the recreational haven that is Lake Forest College, longtime training site of the Chicago Bears but now employed as a soccer sanctuary, at least until a new facility opens next year closer to town. Chris Rolfe, a rookie striker from the University of Dayton who lives on the South Side and has driven nearly an hour to get here, is a starter now. As such, he gets to take it easy toward the end of practice. He fires a few shots at an unprotected goal, then chats with goalkeeper Zach Thornton, an eight-year veteran.

They discuss nuance and timing, small things that could put a contending Major League Soccer team over the top. Rolfe, 22, who grew up in Kettering and attended Fairmont High School, often consults the older players for guidance. Considered a strong rookie-of-the-year candidate, he has four goals and two assists in 18 games but wants more for himself and the team, whose 11 wins lead the league.

"There's definitely room for improvement, so many parts of my game that can get better," he says. "There's a lot of areas where I look back already and I'm like, man, I could have done better there."

Bright enough to be one semester short of a finance degree, Rolfe soaks up Thornton's advice until third-year coach Dave Sarachan gathers the players, addresses them briefly and dispatches them to the hallowed halls of Halas Hall, where the likes of Dick Butkus, Gale Sayers and Mike Singletary once dressed.

Just a guess, but the late George "Papa Bear" Halas probably would not approve of soccer being played at any facility associated with the Bears. That includes Soldier Field, scene of a doubleheader the next day in which the Fire and Columbus Crew serve as opening act for David Beckham and Real Madrid.

Slept through draft

From the earliest days in his Lincoln Park Boulevard yard, where he, older brother Jon and other neighborhood kids took aim at a regulation goal, Rolfe's dimensions — he's 5-foot-8 on tiptoes and about 145 pounds — translated best to soccer, although he remembers enjoying some junior-high run as a basketball point guard.

He admits to having no knowledge of Halas, the legendary coach who all but invented pro football. He tried to be a Cleveland Browns fan because his dad, Ralph Rolfe, favored them, but the Browns went away for three years, the Bengals were horrendous and football just never grabbed him.

"I guess I've just always been kind of quick and fast," Rolfe said, explaining his gravitation to soccer. "And I've always been pretty good at putting the ball in the back of the net."

This spring, the Fire made Rolfe a third-round draft choice, trading up to take him because they thought another team might. That day, Rolfe relaxed to the point of falling asleep while friends and family monitored the selections on the Internet.

"I wasn't even in the room when they called my name," Rolfe said. "I just heard my parents. My dad got all excited and everyone was yelling and stuff, so I knew I had been chosen. A few minutes later I got a call from the general manager and the president."

Rolfe, a wizard with the ball, has created a stir in the Windy City with a style of play that can best be described as hellbent. There have been stories about him in the big newspapers but he claims not to have read them.

"My mom has all the articles and the pictures since I've been on the team," he said. "She sends them to my entire family and when they tell me about a sweet article, I'm like, 'I have no idea what you're talking about.' "

Besides the tendency to believe them, there are practical reasons for avoiding one's press clippings, Rolfe figures.

"It can be a distraction, I think, and I don't want to let anything that somebody says in an article bother me," he said. "I just want to kind of keep my head on straight and do my own thing within the team. And if the team has a problem with me or some criticisms, I want them to come and tell me.

"There were times even in high school when things would come out in the paper and I would read it and I'd be like, well ... nothing bad, but it makes you think, and I don't want to get to the point where I'm reading something and it's going to affect my play."

Chicago on a budget

Away from soccer, Rolfe is enjoying life the best he can on MLS money.

"There's so much to do here," he said. "Usually after games we'll go out and we'll be out late and we'll be getting home when the sun's coming up. You don't do that in Dayton that much because there's no clubs open late enough.

"And we go to the beach a lot. We try to go to as many free things as possible."

Rolfe, whose recent buzz cut makes him look like the kid in Hoosiers who shot free throws underhanded, doesn't need a degree in finance to know about making ends meet in Chicago. The average first-year MLS player earns about $26,000 and Rolfe can't see doing this too much longer at that price.

"It's doable, but at the same time next year, if things don't change, we'll look at other routes," he said. "Either other leagues or other teams around here who might be more financially considerate."

He has an agent and should have some options, but he's still getting established. Moving into the starting lineup a few weeks ago was a big deal, but holding up and thriving for the rest of the season will be even bigger.

"You never know with young players how they'll adapt to this level, but I would say Chris has gotten good marks for being good around the goal and being able to deal with the pace and pressure," Sarachan said. "He's been a pleasant surprise, but I shouldn't even say surprise. We knew he had ability."

They knew because Rolfe spent two summers training with the Fire and playing for their development team. But could they know he would make this strong of a case for rookie of the year? A third-round draft choice from UD, where injuries haunted him and the team never won so much as one Atlantic 10 championship?

Rather than lie, Sarachan just smiles.

"He's crafty and tricky and just has a way of moving on the field that makes sense," the coach said.

Rolfe's college numbers support this assessment. Despite the injuries, which included a sports hernia as a junior that required surgery, he ranks sixth all-time at UD with 31 goals and third with 87 total points while topping the career assist chart with 25.

It's gone now, but the backyard goal apparently served its purpose.

"We just took it down a year or two ago," said Donna Rolfe, Chris's mom. "They played hard out there, especially in front of the goal, and we ended up with mud patches. Now we have grass in the backyard."

A painful deadlock

Despite a cramping calf and blisters on both feet that will need medical attention, he plays the full 90 minutes.

"He certainly never quits on things," an admiring Sarachan says. "He just keeps pushing."

In the first half, Rolfe surprises a bigger defender and heads a ball goalward only to see Columbus keeper Jonny Walker make a diving save and keep the Fire off the scoreboard.

"He'll get chances every game," Sarachan said. "That's his cup of tea."

Defenders by nature are bigger than Rolfe and when one of them sends him tumbling to the turf, Donna winces from her seat in the family section. In a previous game at New England, Chris had collided with the goalie and popped up quickly.

"He stayed down a little longer this time," Donna nervously notes.

Had this been a stand-alone event, an intimate gathering of about 10,000 would have shared the Rolfes' viewing experience. That's what the Fire averages, which, in a city of three million, is tantamount to being ignored. But with Beckham and Real Madrid on the bill, 54,432 eventually show up and Soldier Field gradually becomes a madhouse as the second half meanders to conclusion.

The unaccustomed fan support perhaps inspires the Fire, who produce a tying goal and avoid losing to a Crew team that had been winless on the road and had just fired its coach.

In the locker room, Rolfe finally slows down.

"I'm worn out right now," he says after getting treatment for his blisters. "I can't even think."

DDN Article