Friesz Rocks On Former Cda Star Has Family, Future In Perspective

Last Monday was one of the best days of John Friesz’s life.

The Seattle Seahawks quarterback directed an improbable 22-15 comeback victory over Miami the day before.

He woke up Monday morning with his spirit still bolstered by the win and his starting job secure for at least another game. His 10-month-old son, Hunter, was eager for some karaoke.

“I called over there and (John’s wife) Julie answered. I talked to her a little bit and asked about John,” said Mel, John’s father. “She said, ‘John’s down singing to Hunter. He’s singing some rock ‘n roll.’

“I imagine that’s probably the happiest he’s ever been.”

Beat that, lottery winner.

For John’s parents Mel and Mary Jo, it was another grand weekend in a life full of ‘em.

They’ve followed John’s career from Canfield Junior High to RFK Stadium, often in person. If they didn’t have ticket stubs in hand, they watched his games on TV in the basement of their modest two-bedroom home on scenic Twin Lakes, just north of Rathdrum. When John played for San Diego and Washington, the Frieszes went to Steve’s Sports Dugout in Post Falls, where owner Steve Parker dialed in games via satellite.

Although the venues have changed, the Frieszes have not.

If you’re wondering where John gets his even temperament, spend an hour or two with Mel and Mary Jo. Their home is a slice of Americana - wedding pictures fight for shelf space with the snaps of their 13 grandchildren. Pictures of John are no more or no less than the rest of the family.

If you’re wondering why John shows unbending dedication to his teams despite usually serving as the backup quarterback, consider that his parents often were still in the stands, knowing their son probably wasn’t going to play that day.

“But your heart doesn’t thump and your hands don’t sweat when it’s not your kid throwing the ball,” Mary Jo said.

Mel and Mary Jo were married in Missoula in 1966. Each had a boy and a girl from a previous marriage. Together, they added son John and daughter Lori.

The Brady Bunch revisited, except the kids aren’t prima donnas.

Neither Mel nor Mary Jo were athletes. They lived in the country, near the Clark Fork River.

“John would stand out there by the hour just throwing rocks in the river,” Mel said. “That’s probably where he developed the accuracy and his arm.”

Sports were emphasized because they kept the kids busy and focused on academics. The Frieszes relocated to Coeur d’Alene in 1975 to run the Greyhound Bus Depot.

John immediately dove into flag football, and hasn’t stopped competing. Lori was an accomplished volleyball and basketball player.

Meanwhile, Mel and Mary Jo gassed up the car for road trips. One Friday night when Mel was working, Mary Jo couldn’t decide whether to attend Lori’s or John’s basketball games. Both were in Spokane.

“She went to the first half of one game and drove across town to see half of the other game,” said Mel, who now works in the planer department at Crown-Pacific.

John was a backup at CdA High until his senior year, but enticed considerable recruiting interest, including that of a young coach named Dennis Erickson at Idaho.

With his parents only missing a handful of games, John rewrote Idaho and Big Sky Conference record books the next four years.

Mel preferred driving, so the Frieszes motored most everywhere.

Road trips are easier with John and Erickson reunited in Seattle. The Kingdome, as in every stadium in the country, has its share of fickle fans.

“I mean, I feel sorry for Mirer’s wife,” Mel said. “A couple of games ago, she was sitting a couple of rows below us and they’re booing her husband. She sits there real nice about it, but …”

John has been healthy - and boo-free - most of his career. The exception was when John injured his knee in a Chargers’ preseason game and missed the ‘92 season. The Frieszes watched him go down on TV at the Dugout.

“He called from the training room and left a message,” Mary Jo said. “We weren’t even home yet, but you could hear the disappointment in his voice.”

A sign by the driveway of the Frieszes’ home says, “Grandma’s flowers, Grandpa’s weeds.”

Grandpa Mel quickly gets even. “A long time ago, I took to saying, ‘When John throws touchdowns, that’s my boy,”’ he jokes. “When it’s interceptions, it’s her boy.”

Countered Mary Jo: “That’s OK, I’ll take him.”

For all of John’s accomplishments, Mel and Mary Jo point to one above the others.

“No matter whether John wins or loses, he always seems to know the right thing to say,” Mary Jo said. “He’s always a gentleman. We have a lot of people compliment us on that.”

Similarly, the Frieszes boast about all six of their children. None of the Frieszes search out the spotlight.

“The kids aren’t flashy,” Mary Jo said.

John doesn’t hide his excitement as easily when playing with son Hunter, who already has a pretty good arm.

“You ought to see him,” Mel said. “He can’t walk yet, but John will say, ‘Wanna play ball, Hunter?’ and he starts kicking his feet together. John throws him a plastic ball and Hunter picks it up with his left hand, puts it in his right hand and throws. He never throws left-handed.”

Like father, like son.

The Frieszes say all the road miles have been worth it.

“It’s what we wanted to do,” Mary Jo said. “Some of the hardest losses, some of the most exciting games, we were there. We wouldn’t have missed it for anything.”

, DataTimes ILLUSTRATION: 2 Photos (1 Color)