Another Fourth of July has come and gone, providing yet another reminder to Bob Schloredt about observing the holiday safely.

Fifty-eight years ago, a few weeks in advance of the nation's annual celebration, Schloredt and his friends in Moorcraft, Wyo., watched from a distance as an older kid repeatedly stuffed firecrackers into a Coke bottle, put a rock on top and exploded it. Only in Schloredt's case, he didn't stand far enough away.

He caught a piece of flying glass in his left eye, piercing it. He was rushed through the rural countryside to two separate hospitals. At both places, he was told there was nothing anyone could do to save his vision. They could only sew him back together.

"I don't set off fireworks," Schloredt said. "I don't try to keep anyone else from doing it, unless they're not doing it safely. I don't have night sweats about it. What I was doing was stupid. It was my own damn fault."

Legally blind in one eye, he did a lot of things right as he grew older. He became part of sporting folklore in Seattle as a vision-challenged football player who emerged as an All-America quarterback as a junior for the University of Washington, a Sports Illustrated cover boy as a senior, and the first person twice named most valuable player.

He ran the option in a fearless manner, made himself an accurate passer and won game after game. He was 15-2 as a starter, sitting out five more victories as a senior after breaking his collarbone at midseason. All he did was mend quickly enough to lead the Huskies to a 17-7 victory over No. 1-ranked Minnesota in the , this coming exactly 12 months after helping the UW destroy favored Wisconsin 44-8 in the Pasadena postseason game.

Today, Schloredt, 65, lives in south Everett with his second wife, Andi. He has two grown children, two stepchildren and 11 grandchildren. Semi-retired, he works for the Department of Housing and Urban Development (HUD), inspecting homes and apartments. Last week, this job took him to Montana, where he had hoped to visit with his Huskies coach, Jim Owens, who lives in Bigfork.

Schloredt's left eye looks fine on the outside. He can see shadows, some light, but nothing definitive. On the football field, he never thought much about it. He swiveled his head a lot while passing. He kept the ball a lot on the option. He was too competitive to consider any shortcomings. He scored 15 touchdowns and threw for nine more in his career.

It wasn't until he had left the UW and got called up for military service that he fully understood something was different about him.

"I had to take an eye test and I told them I couldn't see out of the left one," Schloredt recalled. "They sent me to an eye specialist and he said, 'You can't be in the army.' That was the first time I realized I had a problem. I also got a distinguished handicap award from President Kennedy. I didn't realize I was handicapped. Nobody talked about it."

Schloredt quickly found a few barriers because of his vision. Even with a pair of victories and MVP trophies, he was told he couldn't be a traditional drop-back passer in the NFL. He tried the CFL, and played two seasons for the B.C. Lions. He turned to coaching at Owens' invitation, spending a dozen years on the UW staff before joining the WFL's Hawaii franchise and watching it fold at midseason.

Since then, Schloredt has maintained a link to the Huskies with season tickets. On most Saturdays, the old quarterback has been in the stands, though last season he became so frustrated with his alma mater and a 1-10 season he wanted to go back down on the field and offer his services to embattled coach Keith Gilbertson.

"I wish I could have been his quarterback coach," Schloredt said. "He had two option quarterbacks. I ran it and knew how effective it could be against defenses."

This spring, the two-time MVP showed up for a barbecue for former players and was introduced to Tyrone Willingham. The new UW coach didn't know who Schloredt was, but it didn't matter. So far, Willingham has earned passing marks from the guy who wore No. 15 so successfully.

"He was a great guy," Schloredt said. "I like the fact of them having 6:30 a.m. meetings and haircuts. It's just a lot more discipline. That's what Washington football is all about. It got really lackadaisical. We're on the way back. No matter what we do, it's going to be upward."

On that point, the rebuilding Huskies can only hope his vision is unlimited.