BEST ROSE BOWL STORY COULD BE OFF FIELD.

Byline: KAREN CROUSE

PASADENA - It should have been a storybook day for Rick Neuheisel, one of those occasions that provides inalienable proof that a fairy-tale ending can be the beginning of a happily-ever-after life.

Seventeen seasons after quarterbacking the UCLA Bruins to a Rose Bowl victory over Illinois, Neuheisel was invited to Rose Bowl headquarters Thursday to discuss his triumphant return as the coach of the Pacific-10 Conference champion and fourth-ranked Washington Huskies.

He was honored and humbled and torn.

Every Thursday since the beginning of November, you see, Neuheisel has had a standing appointment with a Huskies player who may never stand again.

On this day, Neuheisel's obligations as the field general entrusted with thwarting Purdue's aerial attack prevented him from paying his weekly visit to senior Curtis Williams.

The strong safety lay in a rehabilitation center in Santa Clara, a few miles from where he suffered a spinal cord injury Oct. 28 in the second half of a game at Stanford.

Faster than you can turn a page - indeed, as fast as you can lower your head to make a hit - Williams' fairy-tale season turned grim. Six weeks after the freak mishap, he can move his lips but not much more.

The happy ending Neuheisel fashioned as a one-time college walk-on- turned-star and continues to feed his players daily as part of his philosophy of football and of life is being severely tested in that rehabilitation facility even as it has been validated on the football field.

Neuheisel and the Huskies cannot revel in their 10-1 record without remembering their paralyzed friend. Life's mosaic is like that, interlacing inconsonant events so the resulting picture often is bittersweet.

``It is a hard thing to deal with on a daily basis,'' Neuheisel said. ``The one thing we can't allow is that we move so far on, as time does, that we forget Curtis Williams.''

Every week since the accident, Neuheisel has hopped in a private plane provided by a school booster and flown, along with a few other members of UW's extended family, from Seattle to San Jose to visit Williams.

Neuheisel's Thursdays with Curtis have taught him much about faith and courage and acceptance. He walks in every week intent on making Williams feel better. And every week Neuheisel settles into his seat for the return flight, reflects on the visit and realizes Williams was the one who buoyed everybody else's spirits.

``The kid always makes you feel good,'' Neuheisel said, his eyes moistening. ``He never gives you the feeling that he's feeling sorry for himself.

``When something like this happens, you imagine yourself in the same situation and wonder what you'd be like, how you'd handle it. Curtis is handling it better than all of us could imagine we would.''

This is not the first time Neuheisel has gotten an up-close glimpse of football's unspeakable side.

In UCLA's 1982 season opener against Long Beach State, Neuheisel threw a pass intended for JoJo Townsell into double coverage. The ball hung in the air like a helium balloon.

Long Beach State's Todd Hart intercepted the ball, then suffered a spinal cord injury when the three players collided.

Neuheisel, who was 21 at the time, remembers being bummed at first that the ball was picked off and then not believing that Hart wouldn't eventually get up.

``I don't think any of us on that day realized the seriousness of his injury,'' Neuheisel said.

At that age, he explained, you're naive enough to believe that a catastrophic injury is what happens to other, much older people.

Eighteen years and three children of his own later, Neuheisel brought a very different perspective to the terrible scene that developed in front of his eyes at Stanford Stadium.

Williams, who was playing wonderfully, lowered his head to tackle Cardinal running back Kerry Carter, dropped to the ground and didn't move a muscle.

When Neuheisel got to Williams on the field, his heart sank to uncharted depths.

``I was looking in the kid's eyes and he wasn't there,'' Neuheisel said. ``It's the most horrifying thing I've ever been through. It was like standing on the field and watching a car accident. As a parent you want this kid to get up. As an adult you realize these things don't always have happy endings.''

In recent weeks, Williams's doctors have tested Neuheisel's positivism with their prognosis. During one of his visits, Neuheisel saw Williams' shoulder move. He was euphoric. Then the doctors explained it probably was just a muscle twitching involuntarily.

The way Neuheisel is wired, it's impossible for him to entertain negative thoughts. It is his nature to be optimistic.

While he understands why the doctors must proceed with extreme caution, Neuheisel has never coached his teams to think or play that way. He always has preached that before something amazing can happen, you have to believe it's possible.

And so Neuheisel has gradually started addressing questions about Williams' condition by saying, ``I'm still optimistic this is going to have a happy ending.''

Williams apparently is infected by the same hopefulness. He hasn't ruled out attending the Rose Bowl.

``Curtis' hope is to get cleared by his doctors to come to the game,'' Neuheisel said.

He smiled at the prospect. The coach who starred in the 1984 Rose Bowl despite suffering from food poisoning knows that if Williams makes it to Pasadena, that will be the granddaddy of all Rose Bowl stories.

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Photo: Injured Washington football player Curtis Williams, shown on the scoreboard as teammates salute him, hopes to attend the Rose Bowl.

Elaine Thompson/Associated Press