The National Lacrosse Hall of Fame will enshrine nine new inductees — Kevin Cassese, Leigh Buck Friedman, A.J. Haugen, Alex Kahoe, Phyllis Kilgour, David Morrow, Ryan Powell, Denise Wescott and Tami Worley Kirby — in a ceremony Sept. 29 at The Grand Lodge in Hunt Valley, Md. Tickets are available for purchase until Sept. 21.

The turning point of not only Dave Morrow’s lacrosse career, but his entire life occurred during the first college game he started. More than a quarter century later, he recalls it all. 

On March 2, 1991, against Johns Hopkins at Homewood Field, Morrow’s job, as a Princeton sophomore, was to cover the Blue Jays’ top scorer, Matt Panetta. 

“I had a picture of him next to my bed,” Morrow said of Panetta. “I thought about it every single spare moment I had.”

As a kid from the then-lacrosse outlier state of Michigan, who knew more about his father’s metal and aluminum tubing business than any advanced defensive scheme — and who didn’t sniff the field as a freshman — Morrow didn’t know what to expect.

The anxiety haunted him. He had nightmares about being scored on. He was raw, untested, and unknown — except as the angry, former hockey player who wore cut-off khakis or Army pants and chased players when he trekked east for recruiting camps. 

“Then it gets to game time,” Morrow said. “I held [Panetta] to one or two points. ... I thought, ‘If I could stop this guy, I could stop more guys.’ 

“I always say the gift lacrosse gave me is self-confidence. I never thought in a million years I’d have the ability to do that. But you do something that’s well beyond what you think you can do, and then you keep repeating it over and over again.”

Three years later, Morrow graduated as a two-time national defenseman of the year and 1993 player of the year. Then he earned All-World honors with Team USA in 1998. 

Now, Morrow enters the National Lacrosse Hall of Fame, the culmination of a journey that coincided with the lacrosse boom of the late 1990s and 21st century. He’s the first inductee from his home state, was a key figure in the emergent Princeton dynasty and became an industry pioneer. 

And to think, because of his lack of understanding of the game, he simply stopped showing up for practice as a freshman and told third-year coach Bill Tierney he’d been practicing for a week with the hockey team instead. 

“He closed the door and ripped me,” Morrow said, “and told me he had a plan for me, and I can’t quit. ... Then at the end of freshman year, he told me, ‘We have high expectations for you next year. We’re going to start you.’”

Morrow’s play didn’t waver much from its nascent form. 

“At 13, I was working in a factory with steel-toed boots on, with Dave on my shirt. I hated that. I hated my summer job. And I hated the fact everybody teased me about how no one from Michigan would ever be able to play lacrosse. I would do whatever I could to destroy them. When you’re a defenseman and you have a chip on your shoulder, it definitely gives you an advantage,” Morrow said. “I was a thug.”

“He was nasty,” Tierney said. 

Morrow threw checks so hard his aluminum sticks bent — many times. He broke more than 20 shafts in a year before he finally took his father’s advice to build a shaft out of titanium prior to the 1992 NCAA tournament. The Tigers won the title that year, beating Syracuse for their first of six titles in 10 seasons.

“That weekend put Princeton on the map and David Morrow on the map,” Tierney said.

PHOTO COURTESY OF PRINCETON ATHLETICS

The titanium shafts, initially questioned, caught on so much that they were called a competitive advantage. A year later, Morrow started Warrior Lacrosse, named after his Brother Rice (Mich.) High’s mascot. Eventually, Morrow grew the company into the industry’s equipment leader, and sponsored the 1998 U.S. men’s national team that Morrow played on and beat Canada in the final. The drama of the overtime game, and passion of the 10,000 fans who watched it at Homewood Field, convinced “Body by Jake” Steinfeld and Tim Robertson to partner with Morrow to start Major League Lacrosse. Morrow ultimately sold a controlling interest in Warrior to New Balance in 2004. 

“At the time, I wasn’t trying to innovate. I just wanted a stick that wouldn’t bend,” Morrow said. “That’s something we made a living doing, changing the things that people aren’t willing to change.”

Now 47 years old and a married father of four kids, three of whom play lacrosse, Morrow still speaks with an angry streak, but is content in his place in the game.

“I’ve done it as a player, a businessman and now as a family man,” Morrow said. “The experience is complete.”