I’ve been around football since I was in elementary school and loved everything about the game. I had a tough-nosed Boys Club coach who was the away from home
version of my dad. He stayed on every single mistake I made and after a rough first year of playing, I was determined to return my second year as a better player. My nickname in youth football my first year was “Stone Hands” because everything that hit my hands would bounce off. My first year my nickname was traded in for “Showtime” in my second year. Coach would call me that because I made acrobatic catches and wouldn’t drop anything. He was proud of the progress I made and thought I’d be really good in high school if we were gonna throw the ball more.
In high school, I was an above average WR talent. “Showtime” was gone because my role had changed. My primary role as a WR was to stalk block in a triple option offense. I was good in my role. I could count on one hand how many receptions I had during the season and as I’ve gotten older I can promise you the number hasn’t gotten any bigger. We may have thrown the ball 3 to 4 times a game. I look back and laugh because as a coach now, I always look at how WR’s block in the run game and I always check to see if they are either “running their feet” or “mirroring the defender” in front of them. I played for a gritty high school coach that believed that every player needed to do board drills. This was a drill where two players would align over a wooden board, get in a 3-point stance and work to see which player could block the other off of the board. The winner was the king of the board. I became a more physical player competing against other guys on that board. I had my fair share of victories on that board as long as I didn’t face an Offensive lineman.
After high school I had a chance to play at Bethune Cookman in Dayton Beach, FL. My godmother had a longtime friend in the athletic department at the time who was going to give me a shot. No full scholarship, but something we call today, a preferred walk-on. Academically, I was more than set to take the journey to Florida but I had an academic scholarship at Winston-Salem State University and an old, tough-nosed dad that was opposed to me playing football in college. He thought I was too small and wanted me to use the logic of “books over ball.”
Since my dad was my support system and paying for a part of this education, I went with the only choice I had under his roof and headed to Winston-Salem, NC. When I arrived, the reality set it. When I looked at the talent on the team with three rising NFL players on that roster and two that played WR, I began to realize I may have been meant to do something else when it came to football. What I didn’t realize during my four years in college was a career as a coach was being birthed and the labor pains of watching on Saturday afternoons and analyzing the game was just the beginning of a 25 year career so far.