MIAMI -- It's called "Fridge Fever," and Maryland coach Ralph Friedgen, the big man all the hubbub is about, wasn't sure just how big it was.

	"Fridge Fever" has gone over big at Maryland.

Until, that is, he stopped at a red light a few weeks ago.

"A woman started beeping her horn," he explained. "I rolled down the window -- I thought there was something wrong with my car -- and she said, 'Fridge!'"

Indeed, Maryland fans are celebrating the arrival of the Fridge, the jolly looking man with the Santa-sized belly who has suddenly brought respectability and big-time success to his alma mater.

Under Friedgen, the sixth-ranked Terrapins (10-1) are enjoying just their second winning season in a decade. When they play No. 5 Florida (9-2) in the Orange Bowl on Wednesday, it will mark their first bowl appearance in 11 years.

Naturally, the Maryland players want their share of the credit for this turnaround. After all, they're the ones making the plays.

Still, when asked to really stop and think about all the reasons for their startling success, the answer always comes back to Friedgen, a 54-year-old lifetime assistant who viewed the return to his alma mater as his big -- and maybe only -- chance to make it as a head coach.

"Every new coach comes in and says you're going to win," senior defensive tackle Charles Hill said. "But it was the way he said it, and his actions. From the first meeting he said we're not just going to a bowl game, we're going to pick the bowl we go to."

That was a little too much for some to stomach.

"Never in my wildest dreams did I think we'd be here," linebacker E.J. Henderson said.

Still, to hear Hill tell it, there really were actions behind Friedgen's words.

Like so many predecessors, Friedgen believed an upgrade of football facilities was crucial to success. Within a couple of months, however, Friedgen was producing plans for a new $6 million football headquarters and other improvements.

He also put a bigger emphasis on classroom attendance.

"He changed a lot of other little things, and when you do that, it can turn into a big thing," Hill said. "The conditioning program. The food situation, he changed that. We started having mandatory breakfast so players wouldn't lose weight during the season."

Ah, the weight thing.

It is, without a doubt, part of what makes Fridge Fever what it is. Tipping the scales at somewhere around 350 pounds -- nobody's really counting anymore -- Friedgen has brandished the reputation lately as the funny, huggable big brother this Maryland program has never really had. After all, how many other coaches can say they went to college to play quarterback and wound up on the offensive line?

But the weight issue may also be why Friedgen was passed over for so many head-coaching jobs -- including twice at Maryland -- while others, two decades younger, were getting them.

	“	Friedgen is a perfectionist, just like Steve Spurrier. He's an offensive coach, but he expects both sides of the ball to do well. He demands more out of us. That's just how he is. It's how he coaches, and it grows on us. ”
		— Tony Jackson, Maryland safety

Too gruff, some critics said. Not slick and skinny enough to get the big-money alumni pumped up, others believed.

Friedgen says he never let it get him down.

"My dad's big, my uncles are big, my family is big," he said earlier this season. "I can't change what I can't control."

Nobody's really asking him to anymore. In fact, having a coach with such heft is now something of a hoot.

Safety Tony Jackson recalled the first time Friedgen joined the team in a post-game celebration, after a 23-19 victory over North Carolina State last month clinched the team's first Atlantic Coast Conference title since 1985.

"We all get in the middle of the locker room and jump up and down," Jackson said. "He was in there hopping with us. He wasn't getting a lot of air, but he was getting up and down."

It's those kind of stories that help a coach build a program and a cult of personality. It's sort of like the atmosphere his counterpart in this game, Steve Spurrier, has built at Florida. To many, Spurrier is Florida football, and Friedgen is quickly becoming synonymous with the Terps.

The similarities don't end there.

"Friedgen is a perfectionist, just like Steve Spurrier," Jackson said. "He's an offensive coach, but he expects both sides of the ball to do well. He demands more out of us. That's just how he is. It's how he coaches, and it grows on us."