You've heard of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Well, let's call this the story of Dr. Chaz and Mr. Hine.

Mr. Hine is a football player for the University of South Florida. He is an offensive lineman, largely unnoticed even as he walks around campus. His greatness on the field is in details few see -- the movement of his hands and the placement of his feet. He is a soldier in an army of 11.

Dr. Chaz is not a doctor per se, but a performer. He sings opera and acts in musicals such as Les Miserables. He steals breath and attention with his stunning voice and undeniable charm. He is impossible to ignore when he opens his mouth or when he walks across a stage. He is a one-man show.

Mr. Hine and Dr. Chaz are, of course, the same person: USF senior center Chaz Hine. But unlike the Robert Louis Stevenson novel about a man who is both good and evil, the story of Dr. Chaz and Mr. Hine is about a man who is good and even better.


Chaz Hine's mom started both legends in this story. She wanted young Chaz to stay off the football field, and her 9-year-old son ignored her. She wanted Chaz to sing, and her son tried to ignore her, but failed.

"My mom forced me," he says.

So, at age 11, Chaz found himself standing on stage in a Santa suit. The outfit was an inferno, he remembers, causing sweat to stream down his face. Santa was anything but jolly as he fought to keep his hands clasped around his protruding belly. Chaz doesn't remember the song -- only that he never wanted to do that again.

But mom had already lost the football battle, and she would not be swayed. The next year, when Chaz was in sixth grade, she convinced her boy to try out for chorus.

"Chaz," she said, "there's going to be 50 girls and 3 boys. Isn't that a wonderful ratio?"

It sure was. Chaz ended up meeting his high school girlfriend in chorus. Her name is Molly and they are now engaged to be married. But Molly didn't love Chaz just for his voice. "She has a bit of a thing for football players," he says.


Hine wasn't much of a football player back then. He was not highly recruited, or recruited at all. He walked on at USF, which he chose mostly because it was local.

Turns out he not only had a body for the sport -- he grew to 6-4, 300 pounds -- he also had the mind for it. He could endure pain and absorb minutiae. He was as good a student on the field as he was in the classroom, where he would earn a 3.86 GPA. He could both read and block the toughest of Big East defenders. He became a starter, earned a scholarship, and moved from offensive guard to center.

Follow us on Facebook and Twitter to read them first!

But despite his sports glory, Mr. Hine was humble to the point of being self-effacing. He quietly became one of the most charitable athletes in college football, devoting numerous hours to helping the homeless in the Tampa area. Last week, he was named one of 16 National Football Foundation Scholar-Athletes and he is a finalist for the William V. Campbell award, given to the college football player with the best combination of academics, community service, and on-field performance. It's known as the "Academic Heisman." Past winners included Peyton Manning, Danny Wuerffel and (you guessed it) Tim Tebow.

Those guys were supernovas. Mr. Hine is happy to be just another Bull.

"I like to be able to help people," he says. "I want to be a servant leader."


Ah, but Dr. Chaz has dreams of fame. He wants to audition for American Idol, or one of the other TV reality competitions. He even has an idea of what he might sing in front of Simon Cowell: "To Where You Are," by Josh Groban.

"I was watching a major concert on television," Chaz says. "I made a comment to my little brother: 'Imagine if a massive crowd of people who paid to watch you sing gave you a standing ovation for a song.' Knowing people paid for tickets and at the same time they thought you did such an amazing job, that would be the highest on the emotional chart. That would be one of the best feelings in the world."

He and his bride-to-be, Molly, want to start "another Osmond family." And when he's asked to sing on the spot, which is "quite often," he's happy to oblige. He's unafraid to launch into song in front of teammates or even coach Skip Holtz. (The guy is 6-4, 300; who's gonna tell him to can it?) In one of his classes last semester, a professor asked for someone in the lecture hall to croon a little -- to show some courage. Chaz's hand shot up. Then he stood up and belted out an opera stanza.

"There was shock," he says, laughing. "I don't think the professor expected anyone to raise their hand in the first place."

The class was on leadership skills.

Chaz got an A.


So perhaps he'd sing the national anthem before one of his games?

Chaz considered it, but Mr. Hine stepped in.

"I thought I needed to have my mind focused on playing, instead of getting all nervous for a national anthem," he says. "It would affect my play because of the nerves you get before a really big crowd. I decided not to pursue it."

Four years after walking on, Hine is now a team captain.


So which is the real Chaz Hine? That's easy: both. Whether he's got his head down hiking the ball or raised in song, Chaz Hine's double life is twice as rich -- he's the consummate student-athlete. He wants to get his MBA, do a business internship, try to make an NFL team, and then give American Idol a shot.

But more than anything, he says he wants to be a good husband and someday, a good father. A lot of people say this, but you get the sense Chaz Hine means it.

At this point you're probably thinking what most people do when they meet Chaz Hine.

He's two good to be true.

Popular Stories On ThePostGame:
-- How To Develop A Harder Slap Shot
-- Director Anne Buford Tells Powerful Story Of Senegalese Basketball Youths In 'Elevate'
-- How To Develop A Quicker First Step
-- A Very Tebow Halloween

Full Story >>

If you want great college football fan displays, this is a great year to canvas the nation. From Wisconsin's singing, slow-wave fanatics of Camp Randall Stadium to Virginia Tech's jumpers in Lane Stadium, it's a good time to catch a game at a number of college football stadiums. Even Autzen Stadium's black out last weekend was stellar.

But this "card trick" at Iowa's Kinnick Stadium might be tops. Check out the shiver-inducing display, which is of the patriotic persuasion:

Follow us on Facebook and Twitter to read them first!

Hawkeye fans certainly don't get points for speed, but the overall effect is so fixating that it's more than forgivable.

The bar continues to be raised on Saturdays during a great season for fan participation. So what's the new standard? Can someone's crowd sing, jump and hold cards up at the same time? Stay tuned.

More Great Video On ThePostGame:
-- Surfers Rescue Injured Great White Shark
-- Flash Mob Stuns Steve Young
-- Trick Shot Cage Match: Basketball V. Frisbee

Full Story >>

Mr. Kentucky is 11,300 miles away from home, lying in a hospital bed, and his right side is paralyzed. His massive, chiseled muscles -- the ones that won Devin Dearth the state bodybuilding title -- aren’t their former size, but he still bulges at the seams. Nurses at the Tianjin University of Traditional Chinese Medicine in Tianjin, China, surround him and then part as his new doctor enters the room. The doctor, taller than everyone else, struts to the side of the bed and sticks his hand out for Devin to shake. Try as he can, Mr. Kentucky just can’t move his right hand.

Then the doctor begins to insert needles into Devin. Acupuncture to stimulate his paralyzed nerves, yes, but of a different sort: these needles are wider than any you'd find in the United States. More effective, says the doctor. He places them everywhere into Devin: his legs, arms, head, tongue, eyelids; nothing is left unpunctured. The needles will remain in him for 20 minutes, but in the meantime, the doctor asks Devin to move the frozen extremities on his right side.

It starts with his leg. The same leg that had squatted millions of pounds over the course of his 40 years lay flat and trembling. But then Devin slowly lifts it off of the bed. He hasn't moved like that for months. And then his right arm, the one that had failed him just 15 minutes before, moves.

A Brain Bleed Changes Everything
Three years ago Devin was the Mr. Kentucky. A champion body builder. Arguably the hardest working person in the Blue Grass State. He hit the gym at 4 o'clock in the morning, every morning, then spent eight hours a day working his six-figure job, afterward returning home to be with his wife and three children.

But one day while lifting weights -- pop! -- it all changed. His brain stem -- the area that acts as the on and off ramp for all of the nerves in the human brain -- bled; a rare occurrence with serious consequence. A small leak, really. But when that area of your brain springs even the smallest leak, 95 percent of the time it kills you. Devin Dearth isn't a 95 percenter. (Click here for The Top 5 Man Killers.)

After weeks in the intensive care unit at a hospital in Kentucky and three months of in-hospital therapy, Devin was sent home with a paralyzed right side, wheelchair bound, drooling, and unable to walk or communicate effectively. His insurance had run out, and his family was struggling to pay for the at-home therapy that he required.

Follow us on Facebook and Twitter to read them first!

Devin's mind was there, but his body was a prison. He wasn't improving with the at-home therapy, and he seemed relegated to a paralyzed, cut-off existence for the rest of his life. Until his brother, a filmmaker and bodybuilder, stumbled upon the story of a woman who had also suffered from a brain bleed, and had then gone to China to undergo a three-month regimen of traditional Chinese medicine and physical therapy. It worked for her, and it was also 1/5th of the cost of just one month of his at-home therapy. (For the latest cutting-edge health and fitness stories, check out Men’s Health News.)

With Progress Stalled, Devin Looks Overseas for Treatment
When his brother brought up the treatment, Devin's family members were skeptical -- China? Seriously, China? But for Devin, China was an escape -- an opportunity where none existed.

Every day the Chinese doctors and nurses put Devin through a brutal regimen of healing. They'd load him head to toe with needles. Afterward they'd place fire-cups -- an ancient procedure that is said to increase blood flow and promote healing -- all over him. Then they'd give him physical therapy that wasn't so different from the kind he'd receive at home. And all the while, Devin undertook his rehabilitation like he took on everything else: He did it to the best of his ability, better than anyone had seen before.

Nine thousand needles and 12 weeks later, Devin left China. Where he'd rolled into the hospital in a wheelchair, more or less incapacitated, he walked boldly out with the help of his brother. He'd made immense gains during his time: His right side was no longer totally paralyzed, and he was able to speak in understandable, full sentences. He was on the right track.

Today: Optimistic, Back at the Gym, and Dedicated as Ever
And he still is. Three years since he left China, Devin still speaks in a slurred tone, and he still needs help to walk. But he can walk, and he can speak, and his cheerful, optimistic personality is back -- a feat that wouldn't have occurred had he not dedicated himself so fully to his recovery. (Upgrade your own exercise plan with The 100 Best Fitness Tips.)

Devin is featured in the documentary "9,000 Needles," which will be released this October.

Related Stories:
-- Don't Let Your Computer Or Mobile Device Ruin Your Posture: Do These Exercises
-- Three Signs Your Workout Is Horrible
-- Three Surprisingly Strong Ab Exercises

Full Story >>