| |
|
By Don Wade
waded@gomemphis.com
September 26, 2003
WYNNE, Ark. - The license plates on the cars in the gravel driveway read "Arkansas," but the decals decorating the cars' windshields read "University of Memphis."
More important is what's preserved in the scrapbook inside the house: DeAngelo Williams's National Letter of Intent (NLI).
Williams's mother, Sandra Hill, is sitting on a loveseat opening up the scrapbook, flipping through the pages. She stops when she comes to the document. Several universities, most passionately the University of Arkansas and University of Memphis, wanted DeAngelo to sign on this dotted line.
"It's dated Feb. 24 (2001)," Hill says. "He signed it at 4 p.m. We (his parents) signed it at 4:02."
The precious paper looks neat and clean, but the recruiting process that preceded it was messy, at times even ugly.
"Just being honest," Mom says of her feelings about those Hogs now, "I catch myself saying, 'I hope they get their nostrils whupped off 'em.' "
Williams did not sign with Memphis until more than two weeks after national signing day, a day on which he broke his non-binding commitment to the Razorbacks, treating the state school and those who insisted he go there like they were just so many tacklers trying to bring him down.
Now, more than two years later, the kid who led Wynne High School to the 2001 4A state championship in Arkansas when he rushed for more than 900 yards in four playoff games, is perhaps - perhaps - leading a revitalization at Memphis.
Walk into Wynne Sports World this week, which is on the main drag through town, and on the wall behind the counter is one of those big U of M football RELENTLESS posters, which includes the Tigers' schedule, a picture of No. 20 in Tiger blue, ball in hand.
The poster is framed and has been signed by Williams. He has circled Saturday's game in Memphis against Arkansas State because he'll be playing against some old high school teammates.
"We're excited in Wynne about DeAngelo," says the store's owner, 34-year-old Jimmy Jarrett. "That's not just me. That's everybody."
DeAngelo believes it to be true. Maybe because he needs to believe it's true, because it's past time for old wounds to heal.
"It was a shock to their system. They wanted me to be a Razorback," DeAngelo says. "But they're over it now. There will be a lot of people (in Memphis) for the game this weekend."
Relentless, by the way, is an accurate description for the recruiting war over DeAngelo's considerable talents, which he used to average 6.6 yards a carry last season when he rushed for 684 yards as a true freshman. Through three games this season, he has rushed for 354 yards, has almost 200 receiving yards, and is on the Doak Walker Award watch list for the nation's top running back.
"DeAngelo's a heckuva player," says Ole Miss coach David Cutcliffe, who recruited him and watched a few weeks ago as Williams tore through his Rebel defense for 166 total yards and three touchdowns in a 10-point Memphis win.
"He's explosive. And he's stronger than he looks."
He is, in fact, 5-10 and 212 ripped pounds, not the meager 174 the Tigers have him listed at in the media guide. DeAngelo has grown up, has come a long way from his mother's first football memory.
"He was eight," she says. "A little Pee Wee Razorback."
Jump ahead 10 years and there he is all set to sign on with the big Razorbacks. Mom even signed the NLI meant for Arkansas because she assumed, any minute now, DeAngelo would sign.
He did, too. With one word: "NO."
"That," says his mother, "is when all hell broke loose."
The chase begins
Don Campbell is Wynne High School's no-nonsense 62-year-old football coach. His office is filled with tributes to his teams and his coaching, no team more special than the 2001 state champions, no player more special than DeAngelo Williams, who rushed for 2,204 yards and 34 touchdowns as a senior.
But amid this season of triumph was much turmoil. How could there not be?
Arkansas wanted DeAngelo. Memphis wanted DeAngelo. Ole Miss wanted DeAngelo. Even Iowa hung in the fight for a while.
"Good Lord, it's gotten out of hand," Campbell says of modern-day recruiting, shaking his head. "They come along and tell the kid he's the greatest thing since sliced bread. And they're cut-throat with each other. It's hard for a young man to separate truth from untruth."
Says Williams: "Fans were calling me, saying this and that about Arkansas, that Memphis hadn't been to a bowl (since 1971), that Memphis has a losing record. Fans from Ole Miss and Iowa . . . I got some long-distance phone calls that were outrageous."
Sometimes, the only answer was to not answer at all, to take the phone off the hook. Around Wynne, it seemed every other person was a salesman for Hog Nation.
Meantime, the Memphis coaching staff was trying to make its case.
The Tigers, coach Tommy West says, knew what the competition would say about them. But they also knew they had something to offer that the SEC schools didn't: a chance to not only play right away, but to leave a mark.
Memphis offensive coordinator Randy Fichtner took the lead in recruiting Williams because Fichtner had begun pursuing Williams while an assistant at Arkansas State. Williams, of course, quickly ran out of ASU's league, and the danger was that he'd run out of Memphis's league, too.
Fichtner, considering this, called for a reverse of sorts. He opened up the Tiger record book and showed Williams the single-season and career highs: Gerard Arnold's 1,059 yards in 1998 and Dave Casinelli's 2,636 yards from 1960-63.
The records, Fichtner told DeAngelo, were his for the breaking.
"Dante Brown was the only back we had on scholarship," Fichtner recalls. "The best thing we had to sell was opportunity - 'why can't it be you?' "
Of course, other schools were saying the same, filling his head with all sorts of ideas. All the while, the pressure built.
In DeAngelo's junior year at Wynne, Campbell says, his teammates got on him one day in practice for not hustling; DeAngelo threatened to quit.
"I cleaned out his locker," Campbell says, calling his bluff. DeAngelo sat out one game, then returned to the team.
The next year, Campbell says, DeAngelo and another kid were "horsing around" a little too much at a junior high game. When the coach talked to him the next day - "and I got him pretty hard, I was pretty hot" - DeAngelo took offense.
"He got his feelings hurt and didn't show up for the bus to Batesville," says Campbell. "He thought I'd kicked him off the team. I sent a coach for him and he said he wasn't going."
A remorseful Williams came to Campbell the next day only to find out he would have to prove himself in practice, and would be suspended an additional game before being allowed to play again.
"He just couldn't accept that coach Campbell yelled at him," says his mother. "He was immature at that time, still a child."
He was also a coveted man-child, what coaches call a difference-maker. Ole Miss certainly could have used him and Arkansas definitely wanted him. But Memphis needed him.
"The last 24 hours (during recruiting) coach Fichtner was here at one minute after midnight," recalls Hill. "We heard the motor home - Errrrrr-Errrrrr . . . he had this tall Memphis flag. It was huge."
Williams smiles at the memory, the living proof that somebody thought he was the greatest thing since sliced bread.
"Coach Randy's a character," DeAngelo says, eyes sparkling. "He camped out in front of my house."
Hat trick
Feb. 6, 2001 - the day DeAngelo said no to an entire state.
"We wanted DeAngelo," Arkansas coach Houston Nutt says. "We thought he was coming . . . but nowadays it's different. Commitment doesn't mean commitment."
DeAngelo's decision even disappointed some teammates.
"I wanted him to go to Arkansas, too," says Akeyon Reed, now a senior tailback at Wynne.
"At one time, he told us he was coming here," says Cutcliffe. "But that happens a lot with recruiting. Kids get courted and tell a lot of people positive things."
After DeAngelo told Arkansas no, a lot of people were only too happy to speak negatively to him, saying he had chosen "Tiger High," that he had made "the worst mistake of my life," and that "they'll never win and you can't help them."
Now very confused, DeAngelo and his mother paid a visit to the law offices of former Wynne mayor Bob Ford, who helped the high school win a state title in 1950, but also had been an honorable mention All-America end at the U of M and earned a law degree from Arkansas while working as an assistant football coach.
Ford, now 69, seemed to have the perfect perspective.
"I'm a politician at heart," Ford says, explaining that he lauded both of his old schools. "But he was sitting in my office looking at all the stuff on my walls."
Stuff from his playing days, his Memphis days. Finally, Ford said, "DeAngelo, you decide. Both schools are great. But this school, Memphis, turned my life around."
Ford says now that his influence was "minimal," and he reminds that "Frank Broyles (Arkansas's athletic director and former football coach) is a dear friend of mine. I don't feel like I was being disloyal to Arkansas.
"But, after all, I did play at Memphis."
In fact, DeAngelo's decision still wasn't made. Arkansas remained an option. So DeAngelo now turned toward fate for assistance.
He put several slips of paper into a ballcap. On some of the slips of paper he wrote the word "Arkansas." On others, "Memphis."
First, DeAngelo went to his godfather's house and drew out a slip of paper: "Memphis."
Then he went to his girlfriend's house and drew out another: "Arkansas."
Finally, he returned home and drew out a third slip of paper: "Memphis," a 2-1 winner.
"That was just a game," says his mother, laughing. "In fact, I believe he had more Memphis in there than Arkansas. It was rigged."
If the school fits . . .
Whatever it was, is there any doubt that DeAngelo Williams made the right choice?
Provided, that is, you're not Houston Nutt or a diehard Razorbacks fan?
"Still, to this day, I've got a brother-in-law who thinks he should have gone to Arkansas," says Jarrett, who uses the sign outside his sports store to promote his favorite running back.
"Before the game, I put 'Let's Go DeAngelo.' After the game, I change it to 'Way to Go DeAngelo.' "
"He's proved a lot of people wrong," says Wynne senior center Jared Caldwell. "I can see how he's learned from conflict. He's a lot more level-headed now."
Not to mention bigger, stronger and faster.
"He has some ability, but he's worked at it, too," says Campbell. "But you know what's the most impressive thing I've seen him do? Block. I'm a coach, see, and that tells me he's unselfish."
Jason Matthews and Andrew Handy, Tiger offensive linemen, know him as the running back who will run with them in practice to encourage them, who will bring them snacks and drinks to show appreciation.
"He likes to take care of his offensive line because we take care of him," says Handy.
"I love blocking for him," adds Matthews. "He's like a little offensive lineman. And all you have to do is give him a little alley, a crack, and he'll burst through that thing and be gone."
Says West: "We have to have that threat sitting right there next to the quarterback because our quarterback (Danny Wimprine) is not a runner. He's perfect for what we do."
Back home, that's just what Gerald Britton, a captain in the Wynne Fire Department, was thinking one Saturday afternoon in the firehouse day room.
"I watched the entire Ole Miss game," he says, "and thought it was a hoot. The only worry I have about DeAngelo is if they don't get him some help, they're gonna kill him."
West shares this worry, saying only this week that he really doesn't like DeAngelo having to block defensive ends and linebackers.
After all, to Memphis, he is indispensable. Which perhaps goes a long way in explaining his decision.
"One of the things that maybe scared him off," says Nutt, puffing up a bit, "was we had a great group of tailbacks."
West, naturally, puts it another way: "He had enough confidence in himself to be one of those guys that says, 'I'm coming to a place to turn it around.' "
Says DeAngelo: "I fit this offense perfectly."
And so, at least in some quarters, it seems perfect that the Pee Wee Razorback grew up to be a Tiger.
Still, one can't help but wonder about those slips of paper and that ballcap. What happens if DeAngelo draws out "Arkansas" twice and "Memphis" once, what then?
"He still would have come to Memphis," insists his mother. "His heart wasn't with Arkansas."
Besides, the ballcap was blue.
- Don Wade: 529-2358 |
