Paul Hartmann is the Doc
Sophomore football player grows into the character he was chasing, finds a role on a team that loves him.
By Kaden Lamb, writer
Paul Hartmann towers over the other students in Monson Dining Center — even when sitting down. Surrounded by football players bobbing their heads to an imaginary beat, Hartmann furrows his eyebrows and looks toward the ceiling in deep concentration. After a moment, he lifts his hand with his pointer finger raised and drops a line. Then another, rhyming the last word in each sentence.
The bars don’t make any sense, but the men around him hoot and laugh their approval. A year ago, he might have sat alone in a seat by a window, eating his lunch quickly and leaving the dining center without saying a single word. A year of developing a reputation as a positive person to be around helped him grow into who he is today.
“You wouldn’t recognize the kid who I was as a freshman [compared] to who I am now. I am proud. I’ve come a long way.” — Paul Hartmann, sophomore
“You wouldn’t recognize the kid who I was as a freshman [compared] to who I am now. I am proud. I’ve come a long way,” Hartmann said.
Hartmann grew up in Sister Bay, Wisconsin, a town of less than one thousand people on the tip of Door Peninsula, which stretches out into Lake Michigan. He shared a two-bedroom apartment with his older sister Hannah, his younger brother Timmy and his mom. His mother homeschooled him for 11 years until his father left for good, forcing his mother to find a job at a local bakery. Hartmann transitioned to a public high school for his junior year.
“I was a shy, isolated kid,” Hartmann said. “[I] didn’t have many friends. I was a weird kid.”
When the weather was nice, Hartmann would walk a mile down the street to Waterfront Park with his brother Timmy. They would swim in Lake Michigan and play football in the sand. Sometimes they walked to the park to play one-on-one basketball or pitch batting practice to one another. During winter, they built forts, had snowball fights and roughhoused in the cold — whatever they could do to escape what Hartmann calls a toxic environment their dad brought home with them.
“Whenever he was home, it just was awkward. Cold. He was always really distant.” — Tim Hartmann, brother
“Whenever he was home, it just was awkward. Cold. He was always really distant,” Tim Hartmann said.
Hartmann said his dad was more of an inconsistent visitor than a resident in their apartment. When his dad was around, Hartmann avoided being at home as much as possible. His father’s absence in his life led to anger, hatred and depression.
“The older I got, the less I wanted to be around him,” Hartmann said.
When he reached his lowest, he turned to faith and football. That journey led him to Bethel University.
Hartmann’s mom connected him with a youth group at First Baptist Church in Sister Bay. He built some lifelong relationships with other students, and a relationship with Christ. His football team at Gibraltar High School also offered an opportunity to channel some of his anger into physicality on the offensive line, he said.
He began seeing significant playing time on the offensive line as a junior, helping his team to a 7–4 record. His senior year, his offense averaged 33.8 points per game and Hartmann ended his high school football career in the second round of the playoffs with an 8–3 record. His success paired with his 6-feet-8-inch frame put him on the radar of a few colleges in the area.
Some of the adults at First Baptist church had graduated from Bethel and suggested he would fit there. After some pressure from them and his mother, he reached out to Bethel Offensive Line Coach Chad Richards. He visited campus and quickly fell in love with the culture of Bethel football.
Coming to Bethel, Hartmann looked to leave his past behind him and start fresh. In high school, he said he had a reputation as a loner and an outsider, so he anticipated starting over.
“I want to be known for [being] a guy with good character. A high-character person who’s the hardest working guy in the room.”
“I feel like I never escaped the person that I was when I came in [to high school] as a freshman. I was awkward, shy… weak,” Hartmann said. “I want to be known for [being] a guy with good character. A high-character person who’s the hardest working guy in the room.”
After COVID-19 canceled the 2020 football season for Bethel, Hartmann began his collegiate football career as a sophomore in 2021. He arrived at fall camp with big expectations for the upcoming season. On the first night of camp, fifth-year senior Jack Fiedler challenged the team to “accept the invitation” and “give your gifts away for free.” Hartmann watched film, hustled everywhere, and accepted coaching with an intensity, but found himself sidelined at practice, not getting many reps at all. Doubt started to creep into his mind, leaving him feeling dejected and wondering what his purpose was on the team.
“It was almost like [Paul] didn’t necessarily feel like he belonged when he first got here,” team captain Fiedler said.
He had the perfect role for Hartmann.
The offensive line at Bethel has a handful of unique traditions. The “mafia,” as they are called by the rest of the team, is directed by a feared leader known as the “Don.” Fiedler was the Don, and teammates would hear from him if they had committed any sins against the team. For example, if a player wears red at any time during the week that Bethel is scheduled to play against St. Johns, he is subject to the Don’s mercy. Often, the punishment included buying Fiedler a box of Oreos to share with his henchmen during film sessions.
Another position in the mafia is the Director of Security, or Doc for short. The Doc’s main task is to protect the team from imaginary snipers at practice.
“It gives him a sense of responsibility, allowing him to become part of the team.” — Jack Fiedler, fifth-year senior captain
“When you choose a Doc, you want to choose somebody who’s going to really be into the role,” Fiedler said. “That’s why Paul would be a good candidate. Also, it gives him a sense of responsibility, allowing him to become part of the team.”
When trains chug past Royal Stadium during practices in the fall, Hartmann sprints to the tracks, dropping into his three-point stance and watches for snipers who might be hiding in the train cars. Teammates look over from their drills to clap and shout their appreciation for his protection.
“He makes practice a good time,” junior Ethan Herron said. “Especially when he plays quarterback in [the o-line and d-line] drills.”
His status as the Doc has helped Hartmann grow into the man he said he wanted to be when he first arrived.
“Honestly, it’s kind of nice getting all the attention of being the Doc.” — Paul Hartmann
“Honestly, it’s kind of nice getting all the attention of being the Doc,” Hartmann said.
Collection of quotes: Appreciation for Paul Hartmann
“I appreciate his dedication to anything that he’s doing. He’s not here for glory or anything like that, he’s here because he loves the guys that are here, and I admire that a lot.” –Jack Fiedler, fifth-year senior.
“He is always happy and has a smile on his face. And whenever I see him, he makes me happy because of the joy that he spreads.” –Evan Ginter, junior
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him upset. He’s just a happy guy and a fun guy to be around.” –Merrick Stacy, junior
“The best thing is when he sprints his ass over to the train that’s coming around and sits in his stance for 15 minutes” –David Brandt, senior
“He never complains.” –Joe Kujawa, freshman
“I love how genuine of a guy he is.” –Chace Gadapee, senior
“He makes practice a great time, especially when he’s playing quarterback in drills.” –Ethan Herron, junior
“He’s an all-around good guy, man. He’s like 6’8, I look up at him and I feel like a kid. He’s a big friendly giant.” –Austin Auld, freshman
