SMALL-TOWN SENSATION : Selma’s Todd Santos, SDSU Quarterback, Aims for Big Time

The lunchtime crowd is filtering into Sal’s.

There’s Pat Thornburg. Her son, Andy, played football with Todd Santos at Selma High School. Andy caught that rub-their-noses-in-it pass on the last play against Chowchilla. Santos, a cocky sophomore quarterback in 1979, was supposed to run out the clock.

“How about we go for it?” said a voice in the huddle.

“Yeah,” said Santos. “Go deep.”

And so he threw deep, and the deflected ball fell into Thornburg’s hands for a touchdown.

Here comes Leslie Nabors and her 10-month-old son, Tyler. Nabors was a junior when Santos was a senior at Selma in 1981-82. She was known as Leslie Johnson then.

Look who’s pulling up a chair. It’s Karl Salazar. He played guard when Santos was at Selma. His father was Sal, who started this restaurant 45 years ago. Once the site of many pregame team meals, today, Sal’s is a place to renew old acquaintances and eat what many in Selma will tell you is the best Mexican food in Fresno County. “Hey, Todd, how you doin’, man?” Salazar asks. “That Sweeney, he’s going to eat your dirt.”

Big laughs all around, a fresh basket of chips and another glass of water for Santos, the quiet, record-breaking San Diego State quarterback. Around Selma, they figure it’s only a matter of time before Santos, their small-town hero, breaks the National Collegiate Athletic Assn. record for career passing yardage set by another quarterback from the San Joaquin Valley, Kevin Sweeney, that city kid from Fresno. Sweeney finished his career at Fresno State last season with 10,623 yards.

“Todd, he’s going to get that record,” Salazar said. “Everybody in Selma knows that.”

And everybody in Selma, it seems, knows Santos and his family.

The Santos are something of a sports legend in this farming town of 13,500, located 15 miles south of Fresno. That’s what happens when you have one or another of three sons start at quarterback for five straight seasons for the Selma Bears.

Bob and Nita Santos’ parents grew up in Selma and raised their children there. Now Bob and Nita have raised their children--Jill, 29; Todd, 23; Roby, 22, and Ron, 20--in Selma. Todd is set to report to San Diego State’s preseason camp Thursday to prepare for a season in which he hopes to break Sweeney’s record.

Santos has a school-record 7,493 yards and needs to average 261 yards in the Aztecs’ 12 games for the record. The first game is not until Sept. 5 against UCLA in the Rose Bowl, but already the publicity push is under way, led by a regional cover of a national preseason football magazine.

This past two-week vacation has meant simpler times for Santos.

This is his last summer back in Selma before the hype of the record chase builds momentum, before professional football turns from a dream into a job, before it might seem a little too silly for a big-time quarterback to drive his 1981 Honda Civic down McCall Street to Fosters for a shake.

“I love San Diego,” Santos said. “But Selma is where I see my family and friends.”

So last week, Santos was back in Selma--eating at Sal’s, sweating in the 104-degree heat, hanging out in his parents’ living room, lifting weights in the gym, playing catch on the high school field, walking around downtown, stopping at Roby’s roadside stand for a fruit-flavored shaved ice, playing a round of golf at Selma Valley Golf Course, loafing with his childhood friends.

Darrick Wells grew up with Santos, lived on the same block until they were 4, played wide receiver at Selma. It was Wells who caught that fourth-and-10 pass their senior year that would have beaten Selma’s rival, Kingsburg, but his foot was out of bounds and the touchdown was disallowed.

“Todd just held onto the ball too long,” Wells said. “I was open, he saw me, but he waited. I’d kid him about it more, if it wasn’t so hard to take. That game meant so much.”

Wells, whose tee shots this afternoon tended toward slicing, screaming risers, went on to play receiver at Rice. He is about to enter medical school in Milwaukee, a couple thousand miles from Selma. He, like Santos, has grown up in the small town, and is finding his future in the big city. Coming from Selma takes some explaining in Houston and Milwaukee.

“When people find out that I’m from California, they ask, ‘Are you from Los Angeles?’ Then they ask, ‘Are you from San Francisco?’ They’re sort of disappointed when I’m not. They all want to know if I’ve been to Disneyland and the beach, and I’ve been to both. Finally, I tell them I’m from Selma, in the central part of the state. We grow raisins.”

Raisins are everywhere in Selma. Drive south from Fresno down Route 99 and it doesn’t take long before nothing but vineyards stretch along both sides of the freeway. In Selma, an errant tee shot can land among grapes. No wonder the signs say, “Welcome to Selma. Raisin Capital of the World.”

The welcome signs also invite people to “Visit Our Pioneer Village.” But don’t expect something out of Disneyland or colonial Williamsburg. Pioneer Village is a cluster of 19th Century wooden buildings just off Route 99. Once there were plans to open a pioneer museum on the site, but those plans fell through. In the heat of an August day, it stands almost deserted . . . though it opened in 1980.

“I went there once,” Santos said. “They had a big party when they opened it. They had a great chili contest. I haven’t been back since.”

Not far from Pioneer Village is a shopping center, a couple of gas stations and several fast-food outlets. A small town hasn’t grown up until it has its own McDonald’s. McDonald’s came to Selma when Santos was a high school junior.

“We always heard you had to have 10,000 people to get a McDonald’s,” said Don Krider, another former Selma Bear and member of the afternoon’s golfing fivesome. “Our own McDonald’s. That was a pretty big thing in Selma.”

Downtown Selma is a few shrinking square blocks. A couple of stores are vacant, and a couple more are going out of business. It has the usual drug, hardware and gift stores, and a J.C. Penney. It has a video store but no movie theater. That burned down a couple of years ago.

“There’s not much to do around here,” Santos said. “You have to go to Fresno.”

When Bob and Nita Santos were growing up in Selma, there was plenty to do. There were the movies, the Tip Top Drive-In and the Den, a teen-age hangout across from the old high school. The high school was torn down to build a supermarket and the Den was torn down to build a Fosters. The new high school, the one where Santos led his team to a 13-0 record as a junior, is just 2 1/2 blocks from the Santos’ home.

“But we’d always have to get a ride to school,” Santos said. “It wasn’t cool to walk to high school.”

So when Todd was old enough to drive, the brothers would pile into their first car, a Pontiac Firebird bought from the next-door neighbors.

There was Ron Santos, now a sophomore at Kings River Junior College. Ron was a freshman when Todd was a senior. He started at quarterback at Kings River until his playing career ended when he was struck by a hit-and-run driver after a game last September.

There was Roby, who was a junior when Todd was a senior. He had hopes of playing at Kansas, but academic difficulties forced him to leave Kansas and transfer to Fresno State. He has given up football, and is a co-owner of a shaved-ice stand called The Big Chill, located not far from McDonald’s.

“I keep telling Todd he should come by for a personal appearance,” Roby said. “We could put on a sign, ‘Come meet Todd Santos, star quarterback.’ ”

That, however, would be an NCAA rules violation. But nonetheless, Santos didn’t go unrecognized this afternoon as the honks from passing cars demonstrated. Santos is becoming as well known in this town as Selma’s biggest athletic hero of the past, Atlanta Brave General Manager Bobby Cox. Santos is probably the best-known resident of Northhill Drive, which is saying something considering Mayor Pat Helm lives next door.

“It’s great,” Santos said. “She lets us swim in her pool.”

With such a swelling of civic pride, maybe someday there will be a Todd Santos Day in Selma.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Santos said, laughing. “Who would come?”

If he breaks Sweeney’s record, quite a few people in Selma would be glad to honor the country boy who finally beat the city boy. Playing in the same county but never against each other, Sweeney and Santos were always being compared. When Santos was deciding which college he would attend, he considered Fresno State. When Sweeney chose Fresno State, Santos backed off. After all, Sweeney’s father, Jim, was the Bulldogs’ coach.

“I figured that wouldn’t be the best situation,” Santos said. “He being the coach’s son and all, I’m not sure I would have gotten a fair shot.”

The irony of Santos chasing Sweeney’s record is lost on few, especially his parents. Bob is a quality control inspector with Armstrong Tire, and Nita is a secretary in the Selma school district. They have built a comfortable life for their four children. Their two-story home is located on a quiet residential street on the north edge of town. Everyone in the family has his own car, the lush Bermuda grass is well-tended, as are the gardens in the front and rear yards.

Family portraits line the living room walls and a scrapbook of Santos’ achievements has a place of prominence in the dining room. The family photo album is filled with pictures of the boys playing baseball, basketball and football.

“They were always out back with their father with some kind of ball,” Nita said. “It didn’t matter what kind. They all loved to play. But Todd was the one who would stay the longest. He would never want to come in. He would just keep going.”

Some things never change. At 4 p.m. on a day in which the temperature would reach 100 degrees, Santos and four friends teed off for a round of golf. There was Krider; Ken Stephenson, a student at Fresno State and another former Selma teammate; Wells and his 19-year-old brother, Scott. Santos, who had been running errands all day, had already lifted weights for 90 minutes.

“Football is my game,” Santos said, “but golf is my first love.”

Santos said he tries to play at least twice a week during the off-season in San Diego, but these hometown rounds are becoming fewer and fewer. But no less competitive. Scott Wells won with a 75. Santos shot a 77, Krider a 78 and Stephenson and Darrick Wells had 80s. Afterward, most of the gang headed back to Santos’ house.

“Whenever I hear that Todd’s in town, I try to get us all together and play a round,” Krider said. “We try to get to a game (SDSU football) or two. We still keep in touch. Todd hasn’t changed. We haven’t changed. It’s just harder for all of us to get together.”

Stephenson, a private pilot, flew a four-seater down to San Diego last season to watch the Brigham Young game and attend the Holiday Bowl against Iowa.

Today, Santos will drive to San Diego. His short Selma summer will be over. By this time next year, he likely will be several weeks into his first pro football camp. That next game of golf among hometown friends will just have to wait.