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A wise man once told me that football is a game of love.
“Love the game and it will always love you back.”
That was the exact quote from someone I cannot recall, but it always stuck with me during my days playing the game of football. A game I had loved since I was in diapers and a game I had played for 10 years of my life.
But it wasn’t always that way.
As many of you probably already have done, there was an ESPN documentary airing last Saturday night following the conclusion of the Heisman Trophy presentation. The “30 for 30” series provided another instant classic with it’s newest release entitled “Youngstown Boys.” This story was about the rise, fall and rebirth of former Ohio State running back Maurice Clarett.
The man who became the face of college football after just one magical season in 2002 became it’s biggest disappointment in the years that followed. Maurice had it all, but he didn’t know how to handle it like most young, successful star athletes do.
It was fitting that a man who tried to defy the highest authority in football, the NFL, had his documentary aired the night of the Heisman Trophy presentation as two of the athletes played the 2013 college football season with drama and controversy attached to their name — Texas A&M quarterback Johnny Manziel for signing autographs and trying to challenge his status as an amateur student-athlete and Florida State quarterback Jameis Winston for allegedly being involved in the heinous crime of sexual assault.
Scandal and big business go hand-in-hand with college football and always will.
Think about 2011 and the Penn State-Gerry Sandusky child sex abuse scandal. The repercussions in 2012 and beyond. These stories are the ones that everyone wants to go away, but always seem to circle back somehow.
Getting back to Clarett, the guy was “All-Everything” in the state of Ohio. In fact, he was Ohio’s “Mr. Football” in 2001, the USA Today’s Offensive High School Player of the Year and was recruited to play at Ohio State University by head coach Jim Tressel. Tressel had been a coach at Clarett’s hometown team the Youngstown State Penguins so Maurice knew what he was getting himself into as he is a native of Youngstown, Ohio.
He gets to Columbus and transcends his play from what he was in high school. He set the school rushing record for a freshman with 1,237 rushing yards, scored 18 touchdowns and was an integral piece in Ohio State’s 14-0 journey to a BCS National Championship win over the Miami Hurricanes in 2002. He scored the game-winning touchdown and was on top of the world.
Then, the downward spiral happened.
Courtesy: Buckeye50.com
2003 was the year the then 19-year-old Clarett would like to forget. In July, a teaching assistant told the New York times that the running back had received preferential treatment in class because of his status, clout and name, but nothing ever came of it. He was late suspended in Spetember by the university for filing a false police report after saying over $10,000 worth of clothing, CDs, money and audio gear were stolen from a car he borrowed. The Athletic Director at that time Andy Geiger outed Clarett claiming he acquired improper benefits totaling around $20,000, misled investigators as if he was trying to absolve himself of his guilt and eventually plead guilty to a lesser charge of failure to aid a law enforcement official for his role in the troubling situation.
Clarett took a 180 in life and moved out to California following his dismissal from Ohio State as he prepared for the 2004 NFL Draft which he was ineligible for after playing just one year of college football. He sued the NFL and won. He was Al Davis — the former late,great owner of the Oakland Raiders. He won a battle that had no positive outcome. Until the Second Circuit Court of Appeals denied him the opportunity to play professional football and reversed the decision.
The man who was one time the best player in his level of football became a nobody because of choices he made, but the young Clarett was resilient and wanted to prove that he could beat the NFL and prove everyone that Maurice Clarett is the man who will rewrite the storybooks. He along with USC wide receiver Mike Williams tried to declare themselves for the NFL Draft in 2004, but weren’t allowed to do so by the United States Judicial System.
Did they have the talent to play professionally? No doubt.
Did the judges make the right call? No doubt. Why would they allow these guys to bend the rules to their liking just because they felt they were talented. Sure, we all live in a free country, but where did the value of an education go once players were offered free scholarships? There are some things people can’t coach or teach: drive, will, worth ethic, effort. Williams and Clarett had all of those qualities, but for very self-righteous reasons. Since they had already hired agents, they couldn’t be reinstated to the NCAA as they had already erased their status as amateurs.
It only got worse.
This is Clarett running at the NFL Combine in 2005.
Doesn’t look like the same physically gifted athlete from one of college football’s perennial powerhouses does it?
This version of Maurice Clarett ran a best time in the 40-yard dash of 4.72.
How could this be?
What happened to the kid who obtained a plethora of football accolades and where did the preparation go?
The truth is, there wasn’t much. As much as Clarett wanted to say he was getting ready for the workout that could determine his career path, Clarett resorted to what was easy. He didn’t take care of his body due to his weakness for alcohol. He resorted to it whenever he was upset. His depression had become so serious that it took a toll on him personally, physically, mentally and spiritually.
What really happened to Clarett was he got caught up in the lifestyle that being a big-time, high profile athlete. He became self-righteous, entitled and expected everything to be handed to him because he was Maurice Clarett. He didn’t care about how his negative decisions affected those around him who actually wanted to help him. He knew the lifestyle and the perks of being a professional athlete and wanted it all. He felt like he was untouchable.
Boy was he wrong.
Despite beingdrafted by the Denver Broncos 101st overall in the third round of the 2005 NFL Draft, but never saw action in a preseason game, appeared overweight, sluggish, injury-prone and was eventually released in late August after taking a four-year incentive-laden deal that would have put him around a first round salary.
That was his NFL career. $1 million in debt from the legal fees he had acquired during his case against the league and all he was focused on was money. He didn’t love the game of football and it didn’t love him back in turn.
Clarett placed himself in destructive situations which led to seven and a half years in prison and a potential early release after three and a half years for robbery and weapons charges in 2006. He was given the early release in April of 2010 and spent time in a halfway house for six months.
Courtesy: GTbets.eu
The details of the case were held out because that part of the story was unnecessary to retell. Clarett was a troubled, confused and mentally ill human being who used the streets as his escape from his failure to become a professional athlete. Every kid dreams to be one, but only a select few truly deserve the privilege because that’s what it is.
Just like being offered a full ride at a school to play football, playing professional football gives is something that commands great power and great responsibility. It commands respect, attention-to-detail, effort, but mostly love and passion.
Clarett was one who fantasized about the lavish luxuries, the beautiful women and the notoriety that comes with being a celebrity. He knew that being able to be deemed important just because he could have played professional was something he thought would come easy as football always came to him naturally. But once he realized that he was in a league full of grown men where everybody is a star from college, he resorted to what was easy… the streets and the bottle.
I’ll present to you one of the most prevalent quotes about love you will ever see.
“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always preserves.”
— 1 Corinthians 13:4-7
This is usually recited whenever a man and a woman want to take part in the experience that is marriage, but football is no different. In fact, nothing anyone is passionate about is different. Once selfishness takes over, you’ll be surprised as to how much people’s perception of you changes.
Courtesy: SI.com
I can relate to Maurice Clarett as I was a college football player myself, but on a completely different level. I played football at Salisbury University in Salisbury, Md. and it was one of the most up-and-down life-changing experiences of my life. While I didn’t receive the playing time I wanted expected — because I didn’t earn it — I met a ton of friends brothers that I will take to the grave and do anything for. But I did not love the game as much as I had thought initially and it took a few situations like Clarett had to have a character transformation.
My sophomore year of college was my first year as a full-time student-athlete. I had already been immersed in the spring football experience the previous semester and I loved every minute of it… for the wrong reasons.
Did I love the game?
I don’t know to be honest with you at that time.
I was more self-absorbed in the perks of being a football player. Being recognized on campus for wearing the gear. Going out to the parties where everyone was going to be at. Become apart of an exclusive group that was the strongest fraternity on campus. Drinking whenever I wanted to because I didn’t think it would affect my ability to become a better football player. The girls. The notoriety. The attention. The clout. Being able to sit at “the football table”.
Being able to say, “I’m on the Salisbury football team” was all that mattered.
Words that described me: cocky, arrogant, self-righteous, egoistical, entitled.
I thought I was going to love it.
I didn’t. The game I had loved wasn’t fun because I wasn’t actually playing it. I wasn’t taking it serious because I was receiving attention I had never received before. Sure, I played football all throughout high school and was a very capable football player, but everyone is a star in college and the player pool is that much more talented. I had my head held high that I was going to waltz my way onto the field without having to deviate from what I did in high school.
I have always been a hard worker and never partied in high school, so once I saw I could get that social freedom in college, even though I claimed I was taking football and classes seriously, I was more focused on what beer I was getting for “Thirsty Thursday” and if I was going to down 40’s on Friday and if I was doing double shots on Saturday.
I lifted worked out a lot and worked out to great results with my numbers. I was a straight-A student in the classroom. Those weren’t issues. How much progress could really be made on and off the field when it’s all about the social life and not about living in the present as a student-athlete and for the future by hopefully making an appearance on the field?
There wasn’t. Along with my lifestyle came a dwindling bank account, putting on pounds that weren’t healthy for my body type and a self-esteem decline that only contributed to a series of monumental events that sparked a change in my character during my junior season.
Two alcohol warnings with the university — one night I tried chewing tobacco for the first time while blacked out, ran through the halls of a dorm with a backpack of overflowing beer and woke up the next morning with an 18-hour hangover; another incident I was caught with a backpack of beer entering a resident hall and my best friend halved the fine as I ultimately took the fall without mentioning his name — where I had to convince the university not to expel me due to my high standard of academics was the first step in the process that caused a character change.
The second?
(This next story was all retold to me by various parties)
I was in a dorm room with my two of my best friends and eventual roommates. We were playing Xbox and had purchased a cheap handle of vodka that we were determined to finish ourselves by the end of the night. Let’s just say one drinking game turned into another and I had taken 12 double shots of vodka in a little over an hour.
We leave the dorm and bump into the resident director stumbling as we were all pretty belligerent, but I had lost control. I gave my keys over to a kid I labeled as my designated driver because he didn’t drink and I was so focused on getting drunk all the time that I never considered his feelings and college experience as I was more determined just to better mine.
We get to the party and I can’t stand up straight. I used everything as a crutch. The walls. Posts. Furniture. Anything. Eventually, I was separated from my friends as I stormed off on my own.
I walked down South Division Street in a drunken stupor and apparently saw a “Safe Ride” shuttle bus. The driver pulls over and I dive in on a girl’s lap who I had known. But I was kicked out due to my inability to cooperate and handle myself.
Then I woke up.
To reds and blues as I sat on a street corner in front of a Valero gas station.
I had an undercover cop talking to me and I could barely see, think, speak and hear through the distorted perception alcohol had created for me. I had tried to break into someone’s jeep as I thought it was one of my friends to take me home.
I couldn’t believe I had done that.
I sat on the curb and I put my hands behind my back. I knew I was going to jail. For something. Anything. Disturbing the peace. Public intoxication. Something.
I remember vaguely mustering enough coherency to engage in a conversation with the officer and said, “I don’t know what I’m doing… I just want to go home.”
The cop instructs me to get in his car… in the front.
I don’t know the name of the man who took me home that night, but that night was God telling me I needed a change. That officer could have told my RA and that would have been my third alcohol offense and a subsequent expulsion from Salisbury University. He had a key card and let me into my room with nothing but a slap on the wrist.
When I woke up the next morning in a puddle pool of my own vomit, I immediately said a prayer and thanked God for being there for me when I couldn’t control my actions. I was hungover for more than 24 hours. I didn’t eat more than a few crackers and some soup when I went to the dining hall after being attached to my bed for virtually 16 hours.
Everybody at “the football table” was talking about it.
“Jeff, I heard you were the drunkest kid on campus last night?”
That was repeated numerous times and while I was being a dumb, 19-year-old embracing the “glory” of a drunken escapade, deep down, I was embarrassed and ashamed of the person I had become just to fit in. I got caught up in the lifestyle and didn’t realize I was destroying myself physically, mentally and spiritually.
After that incident, I went through a complete character change, curbed the partying, drinking and took a more serious approach to living a healthy lifestyle through my diet by cutting out drinking as a means to get blacked out and fit in — I still hold to this principle for the most part today — and who I surrounded myself around. I saw more success in the weight room and I was more recognized by my teammates and coaching staff as a leader for my actions spoke louder than my words. Even though I wasn’t able to see my desired playing time, I took so much from my experience as a football player because the game eventually loved me when I loved it back.
I set lifting records. I became someone the younger players looked up to. And I received endorsements from the coaching staff that I will never forget.
“Jeff, I hope my son can grow up to be like you some day. Your work ethic, drive and dedication is second to none. I wish everyone on this team had your qualities as you’re a quality individual. I never have to worry about you off the field because I know you will do the right thing on behalf of this program. ” — Robb Disbennett Salisbury University Defensive Coordinator/Assistant Head Coach
“Jeffrey was the most dedicated student and player I have coached in all my 28 years.” — Recommendation from Sherman Wood Salisbury University Head Coach
These are the things we live for as human beings. Knowing we can make a difference not only in our lives, but in the lives of others. That’s what’s most important in life. If people can look up to you and want to be around you because of the positive aura that encompasses you, that’s what being a role model is.
Courtesy: Dispatch.com
Thankfully, like myself, Maurice Clarett was given the second chance to redo the game we call “life” once he was released from prison. He became a motivational speaker talking to many troubled souls like himself so that they don’t have to spend time behind bars. Football doesn’t matter anymore, but his football story does.
Sometimes, people may question why you do things differently from others because they don’t understand your story. They may think that something as bad as what happened to Clarett would never happen to them. They may also think that he is weak for going through depression and resorted to what was comfortable in order to make an escape.
The truth is, according to Clarett via his live-tweets (@ReeseClarett13) during the 30 for 30, “Depression is real.”
It’s something everyone has gone through at some point or another and it takes a long time to win the battle over it. Sometimes, the battle can’t be won. But the strongest individuals are the ones who are able to use the depressing experiences to shed some light in society that if you think you’ve had it tough, there’s always someone out there to support you and feels your pain.
Being able to share stories to keep help prevent others from making similar mistakes is why people become motivational speakers. Maurice Clarett is the quintessential embodiment of what dysfunctional people need as a “real friend” in their lives.
“Real friends don’t need to party all the time to have a good time. Real friends don’t need money to justify them being around each other. Real friends will call you to see how you are doing when they know you are doing well. Real friends will tell you when you’re wrong when you think you’re right. Real friends will go to battle with you when they know you’re wrong but will tell you how they really feel once the battle is over. Real friends don’t fade away because of geographic location. Real friends’ intentions are pure and real friends don’t come by that often.” — Maurice Clarett
