These long-shot Horsemen dream big: ‘I think, until we can’t, we’re football players’

The current iteration of Abraham Logan’s “Field of Dreams” could be the backyard of an equipment manager. Sometimes it’s a public park. Other times it’s Sawtooth Middle School in Meridian.

If nothing else, a perk of professional indoor football is its smaller field: 28 yards wide and 50 yards long. That makes it a lot easier to improvise a location to practice, something the coaches and players of the Idaho Horsemen have perfected in the team’s inaugural season. All it takes is a handful of yard markers.

When using a backyard, one deals with nontraditional hazards, though, such as a frolicking puppy trying to get to the ball before the center can snap it.

Logan is one of the Horsemen, Idaho’s first pro football team since the Boise Burn of the AF2, an arena league that disbanded in 2009 after three seasons. The Horsemen (7-0) play home games at the Ford Idaho Center in Nampa in the American West Football Conference, which is made up of just four teams that battle in indoor, 8-man football. The Horsemen’s roster fluctuates on any given week from 25 players to 16, which is how many were with the team Saturday for its 47-45 win at Wenatchee, Washington.

As Logan can attest, it’s hard to find a place to practice when you’re frequently sharing fields with children. A backyard has its perks.

“There’s flag football going on ... there’s soccer. I’ve seen some lacrosse. It’s all little kids (out there),” Logan said with a chuckle. “A lot of people do stare. I catch a lot of people staring.”

Players get paid by the game — for wins, $175; for losses, $150. There is no pay for the 2.5-hour practices that happen five days a week, no pay for time spent watching film. They are not cashing in, not basking in the life of a pro athlete, not being greeted by paparazzi or feted by fans.

Their days are long, as most of them work “regular” jobs to make ends meet. Their van rides to Reno, Tri-Cities and Wenatchee, the homes of the other teams, are long, too.

So what are these guys doing? Well, exactly what they want.

“I think, until we can’t, we’re football players,” said Hayden Wright, the team’s starting quarterback and a Nampa High graduate. His father, Chris, is the Horsemen’s offensive line coach.

“I feel that’s how all of these guys are ... We all know what we sacrificed. We all understand that. That’s a big deal.”

The Horsemen have players of all different backgrounds, shapes and sizes. Some played semi-professional football before finding their way to Boise; some hadn’t played an organized snap in five years.

But each is following a dream to keep playing, holding on to the slim hope of being noticed by a bigger league — despite the fact that, on most days, they don’t even get noticed around the Treasure Valley.

“I’ve been seen a couple times wearing my Horsemen stuff, like going to church,” Wright said with a smile. “The biggest question is, ‘Have you gone to any games?’ Well, actually, I’m a player.”

Idaho Horsemen’s next home game is Thursday night. Get tickets at their website.

Making ends meet

The majority of Wright’s day-to-day life is spent speaking jargon.

From the hours of 6 a.m. to 4 p.m., his life is “collars,” “concentricity,” “threading” and “gas blocks.” When he steps on a practice field at 6:30 p.m., his life transitions to “blitzes,” “zone reads,” “pre-snap motion” and “play-action passing.”

Wright, 26, begins his day at 4 a.m. getting ready for work at Primary Weapons Systems in Boise, where he chambers the barrels for AR-15s. After a stop at home for a bite to eat, he trades rifles for the shotgun formation.

Wright has worked at Primary Weapons for a little more than a year. It’s a large, warehouse-type building where workers manufacture guns for the military, law enforcement and civilians.

The blaring of pistons and mechanical beeping fills the room Wright works in; what would be a whisper in a “normal” workplace is forced into a shout there.

But when he puts on his headphones and listens to music or a book-on-tape, Wright said he enjoys the solitude, the ability to drift away and just work. And, by all accounts, he is great at that, despite not having a substantial background in the weapons industry.

“I have people coming in from school all the time, and I’d rather have a guy like Hayden who can come off the street who has the ability,” said his supervisor, Keith Wilson.

Wright’s work in isolation stands in stark contrast to his life after 5 p.m., when he becomes a leader of men.

Their other lives

To truly understand the Horsemen, one must understand the delicate balance of their lives. The paychecks from football are not nearly enough. Nearly every player works another job.

As easily as he can explain an opposing defense, Wright can talk you through the intricacies of an AR-15. But he sometimes has trouble getting people to understand what he’s doing on weekends.

“(My grandparents said) ‘You have your job, you have your daughter, why don’t you just work?’ Well, I have dreams,” Wright said. “This is our opportunity ... You don’t want to look back with regret and say, ‘I wish I had.’”

Two of Wright’s teammates, defensive backs Cooper Smith and Logan, are from Utah and Washington, respectively. Because of that, they were forced to find seasonal jobs when they moved to Boise, which they did specifically to play for the Horsemen.

When they aren’t scheming to defend an opponent’s passing attack, they work at El Gallo Giro, a Mexican restaurant located on Eagle Road in Meridian. Each makes around $40 or $50 for 4-5 hours of work, tips included, Smith said.

Logan spends much of his time at the restaurant busing tables and cleaning, sometimes going back to work after practice ends. Smith, who stands about 5-foot-9 and looks like the typical All-American boy, has perhaps the most important job in the restaurant, though some customers don’t initially trust him to do it.

“I make the guacamole,” he said sheepishly. “Which is always weird to people, you know, to see me make guac.”

Smith, who spent his LDS mission in Chile, said he generally wins over the skeptics after a quick conversation in Spanish.

The checks the players get from the Horsemen aren’t much, but they are much more than what the coaches and staff make — which is nothing. All of them are volunteers. Don Miller, the team’s director of communications, for instance, owns a furniture store.

The man behind the team

Head coach/offensive coordinator Chris Reynolds worked in real estate in Washington before coming back to Idaho. He is also the Horsemen’s owner and general manager.

Reynolds played for the Detroit Fury of the Arena Football League, and after the graduation of his two oldest children from high school, chose to continue his football dreams. He started the American West, and began finding sponsors and community support a year before moving to Idaho.

That “small business” mindset has been key to the team staying out of debt, he said. This season will cost about $200,000, which has already been covered through fundraising and ticket sales, according to Reynolds. The team has 42 sponsors.

The Horsemen are clearly doing things right on the field, too. Their closest margin of victory was 8 points prior to last weekend’s tight contest, and they’ve outscored opponents 340-214.

Reynolds, who said he did not have to work another job when playing for the Fury, understands the sacrifices his players have made. And he said this is no semi-pro or beer league; the expectation is to be a professional, even if the paycheck is small.

Players are eligible for workers’ compensation, but that was not always the case, Reynolds said. He gave players the option of whether they wanted to play when they weren’t covered, and all of them chose to take the field, he said.

“You just have to have it in you, that passion,” Reynolds said. “Is this what I really want to do when I’m only making $150? It takes a strong person and a certain type of person to do it.”

Unlikely roommates

Sharon Knipe has a few rules for anyone staying at her house.

• You are responsible for your own breakfast and lunch.
• If you can’t make it to family dinner, call or text.
• Do your own laundry and clean up after yourself.
• If you go out late at night, don’t come back until the morning.

Knipe has served as a host family for local athletes and exchange students since 2008. She has provided housing for members of the Idaho Steelheads and the Boise Hawks; eight of the baseball players who stayed with her have played in the majors

But housing a pair of football players? That was a first.

“We know nothing about football. We have a football. We do own one,” Knipe said. “I just see them running after a ball and hitting each other.”

Knipe began hosting athletes and students as a way of providing mentoring to her son, Ryan, who has developmental disabilities. Knipe is a single mother and wanted a male presence in Ryan’s life.

Hanging on the wall on the first story of her home is a collection of several pictures with members of the Hawks. One is of her and Andrew Cashner, a 10-year MLB veteran now pitching for the Baltimore Orioles.

Knipe reminiscences about seeing players get promoted to higher levels of professional baseball, sharing those moments with players and the joy her son takes in staying in touch with them.

“We want to see their success and hope to see them on TV,” Knipe said.

When Knipe found out that a new professional football team in the Treasure Valley needed to house players, she said she was initially hesitant. March through June is her “offseason,” as the Hawks players don’t arrive until at least mid-June.

Enter Smith and Logan, a pair of long shots living in the second-floor loft of her house. The duo immediately struck her as different than previous athletes she’s housed.

Instead of occupying separate rooms, for instance, they chose to dorm together.

“I’d be bored down there, looking at the wall, wondering what Coop was doing,” Logan said.

‘Made it feel like home’

Smith and Logan each have a small desk in opposite corners. Smith’s desk is littered with textbooks; he is working toward degrees in Spanish and sports psychology from Weber State. He also has a picture of his wife, Madison, on his desk. The two were married in October, just months before Smith left for Boise.

Logan’s desk houses a laptop, where he shows off his photography, a hobby he picked up after taking a community college course. He brought his camera with him but said he hasn’t had a lot of time to shoot lately. He also has pictures of his son and daughter, the latter of whom was born right before he left for tryouts.

Their life off the field struck Knipe more than any athletic prowess could.

“One’s married. One has kids,” she said. “That tells me a lot.”

Smith and Logan do not pay Knipe rent. They occasionally pay for food, but for the most part, she covers that, too. The butchers at her local Albertsons know Knipe, and she said they give her a heads-up on deals. She keeps her two refrigerators and three freezers stocked with food and drinks, with Smith and Logan each marking their respective items.

Knipe estimates that hosting adds about $300 a month to her grocery bill. She also provides internet and utilities, and even put the two on her gym membership, as the Horsemen don’t have their own workout facility.

Hosting isn’t for everyone. Not every player or student who lives with Knipe ends up being a perfect fit. But a quote painted on the wall right next to the front door of Knipe’s home sums things up.

“May all who enter as guests, leave as friends,” it reads.

Whether its Logan coming downstairs to watch his guilty pleasures, “The Bachelor” and “The Voice,” with Knipe, or Smith watching sports with her son, the moments Knipe shares with the people she hosts leave indelible marks.

“From the first day that we stepped into the house, she made it feel like home,” Logan said.

Winding roads

It was about 4 p.m. on May 11, and Smith and Logan were walking into the Idaho Center. The Horsemen, 5-0 at the time, were set to take on the Tri-Cities Fire for the fourth time. When there are only four teams in the league and a 12-game schedule, you get to know your opponents well, and Logan was looking forward to another matchup with the wide receiver he lined up against in the prior games.

“No. 6. That’s my guy I like to guard ... I think he’s 6-foot-5, 230 pounds,” Logan said with a smile. “That’s my guy. I like to stick him.”

Logan, unfortunately, did not get another chance at No. 6.

As he and Smith were walking in, security guards were walking out. The game was canceled, they said.

“We’ll let you find out for yourselves,” Smith recounted the guards saying.

Due to travel issues, the Fire were unable to make the game. Smith’s parents, in-laws, siblings and wife, driving from Ogden, Utah, were already three-quarters of the way there.

“We were pretty bummed. You just don’t even expect it. We were like, ‘What the heck?’ We were not ready for that one at all,” said Cooper’s mother, Linda. “I thought (Cooper) was lying.”

‘Student of the game’

Not everything is perfect with the Horsemen. This is a tiny professional league in its first year, and it’s a grind in every sense.

Wright was a four-year varsity player at Nampa High. Because of an injury to the starting quarterback, his first true start was in the state championship game against Blackfoot as a freshman. The stars had aligned for Wright, and the football world was in his hands.

“Hayden was a student of the game,” his then-head coach, Scott Wooldridge, told the Statesman in an email. “(He) was a two-way starter his junior and senior year ... Overall he was a great kid and talented player.”

Wright said he began receiving interest from colleges after his sophomore year, including Boise State and Idaho State. Some schools wanted him as a spread-offense quarterback; others wanted him as a linebacker. The options were plentiful — until coaches saw his grades.

Wright said he held a 2.5 GPA, which turned off a lot of programs. After high school he ended up taking classes at the College of Western Idaho — which doesn’t have a football program — to get his academics in order.

He then played a year of college football at his father’s alma mater, Montana Western. Plans changed, though, when his then-wife gave Wright an ultimatum: Move back to Idaho or keep playing football without her. Wright moved home.

The marriage did not last, however, and Wright still wanted to play football. He began suiting up for semi-professional teams, where players had to pay to play, including Boise’s ICFL (Idaho Contact Football League). He also played football in Detroit, where he lived in an apartment with nearly 20 other players. That league folded, and Wright drove back to Idaho, thinking his playing career had ended with a whimper.

But then the Horsemen appeared, like an oasis in a desert. It’s not much money, sure, but for the first time in his life, Wright is getting paid to play football. His dream remains tangible.

“I would love to have them all get the opportunity to play somewhere else. That’s what this is for,” Reynolds said. “It’s not for them to play here.”

No regrets

The Horsemen’s stories are a screenwriter’s dream. There’s Smith, who stopped playing football after his junior year of high school to focus on track. After his LDS mission, he was on the verge of walking on at Xavier to be a hurdler, but he said it never felt right because football was his first love.

There’s Logan, who played one year of football at Foothill College in California before turning his attention to basketball, which he then played at community colleges in Washington state. He hadn’t played football since 2014 before joining the Horsemen.

Wright, Logan, Smith and the other Horsemen might not get to play football beyond this indoor league. But they finally have hope that someone — anyone — will give them the opportunity to advance their careers.

Following a dream and having success are what made Smith’s wife, Madison, OK with Cooper moving just months after they were married.

“Most people don’t get to live out their dream,” she said. “I don’t want him to have any regrets later in life. I want him to be able to tell our kid, ‘I did this ... You guys can do anything you want.’”

And if this is the final stop in their football lives? That’s fine, too.

“It’s an opportunity that wasn’t there before. We’ve all gotten this opportunity now, and that’s something they can’t take away from us. We can always say we were professional football players,” Cooper Smith said. “If it is the end, it is. But I guarantee it just opens more doors down the road.”

This story was originally published May 27, 2019 at 2:16 PM.