Colorado School of Mines QB John Matocha talks NCAA semis, John Elway helicopter

John Matocha puts his surplice on one arm at a time. College football’s all-time touchdown leader is one of the secret MVPs of Sunday morning mass at St. Joseph Catholic Parish in Golden, making sure the slides are running at 7:30 sharp.

“How was the game?” they’ll ask him.

“Saw the win yesterday, John.”

“That was a heck of a flip you took. You OK?”

(He is.)

“The community is phenomenal,” Mines’ all-everything quarterback said by phone in advance of the top-ranked Orediggers’ Division II football playoff semifinal tussle with Kutztown Saturday at Marv Kay Stadium.

“It’s good for me. I enjoy it. It keeps me grounded. I couldn’t be more thankful.”

As the reigning Harlon Hill Trophy winner and a grad student in Mines’ computer sciences program, Matocha gets about 14 minutes of sleep during a good week. But the man’s committed his Sunday mornings to St. Joseph, dang it, win or … umm … win.

A few years ago, when parishioners were looking for help with some tech stuff, the Houston native volunteered to join the AV ministry, adding a pinch of nerd to The Word.

“I was like, ‘I can figure that out, I can do that,’” Matocha recalled.

“It’s a good accountability partner for me, making sure I attend mass. Sometimes, the Sunday morning after a game, I’m not feeling too hot. But I’ve got a job to do. It gets me up.”

Touchdown Johnny’s gotta confess: This past Sunday morning was one of the tougher ones.

See, during the NCAA Division II quarters last Saturday, against Central Washington, Matocha launched that fearless 5-foot-11, 180-pound frame of his toward the end zone.

One hitch: A defender rose up to meet him in mid-air.

As a Mines grad, Matocha immediately grasped the gravity of the situation. Certainly well enough to know the physics weren’t on his side.

The scraggly signal-caller pretty much got himself spun like Broncos legend John Elway doing the helicopter at Super Bowl XXXIII against the Packers. As he stretched the ball out, Matocha’s helmet wound up somewhere west of Morrison.

“Not the smartest move,” the quarterback chuckled. “But I’d do it again. I’m ready to hopefully get in the end zone a few more times this weekend.”

Naturally, somebody sent him clips of that Elway run after the game.

“Some of the still pictures were pretty surprising,” Matocha said. “(To be compared to) Elway, that is an honor. I will take it, even if it’s just one play. That would be cool if (my future), it’s (like) his career, too.”

And even if it isn’t, Plan B’s not too shabby. The Texan’s already accepted a job offer to become a software engineer with Tyler Technologies here in the metro once he’s completed his studies.

“But I’ve also talked to them about the possibility of pursuing athletics (as a career) and trying to continue playing football,” Matocha added. “And they’ve been flexible and understanding with football, which has helped. A lot.”

Tech wizards defying gravity makes for a refreshing change of pace from the other news of the week in college football, doesn’t it? Especially when the sport keeps rolling over to expose the seediest sides of its underbelly.

Florida State. The playoff. The transfer portal. Pay-for-play. New NCAA president Charlie Baker, seeing the writing on the wall, sent out a letter Tuesday proposing legislation that would create an entirely new subdivision in which universities could pay their student-athletes directly.

The devil’s in the details, but one of the major tenets of the new division is the ability to set its own rules as far as roster sizes, coaching staff size and transfers. Another tenet: That these schools have the financial coffers to set aside at least $30,000 each for half their student-athletes annually.

If you loved football in the early 1980s, a world in which an Alabama, Nebraska or USC could hoard a billion good players on its respective rosters, you’re going to love the next chapter. Baker’s Hail Mary is a lightning-fast jump to where this was always going — a college football “Premier League,” similar to the set up in European professional soccer, in which the uber-rich break off, make their own rules, game the system, hog most of the money and toss occasional scraps to the serfs.

While student-athlete compensation is long overdue, it’s also the kind of shock to the system that figures to eventually split the current Football Bowl Subdivision in half. In one corner, those who’ve got the TV rights cash to burn (most of the SEC, most of the Big Ten). In the other corner, those who don’t (CSU, Wyoming). With a lot of CUs, Cals and Stanfords in the middle, launching into painful debates as to where, how — or even if — they fit.