Finally Free (7 page)

My redshirt freshman season in 1999 catapulted me to a level far beyond what I had anticipated, and it raised expectations for my sophomore season that would be difficult to reach.

The loss in the Sugar Bowl left me hungry to accomplish more as a sophomore. I worked extremely hard during spring practices. I also spent a lot of time in the weight room, which helped me get stronger and even faster (I ran a 4.25 forty-yard dash in spring testing, the second-fastest time in school history). One memorable moment in the weight room was in June, just prior to the beginning of preseason camp. I was lifting, and some of my teammates came in and said that they had seen on
SportsCenter
that I was selected by the Colorado Rockies as the 887th overall pick of the Major League Baseball draft. I didn't really believe them at first; I couldn't believe someone was interested in
me
playing baseball. But when I found out it was true, I thought it was pretty cool. I hadn't even played baseball since I was in the eighth grade, other than practicing a little with the team at Warwick during my senior year of high school. The whole situation just showed that people recognized my athleticism.

As the 2000 season approached, it seemed as though I was on the cover of every magazine in the country. I was gaining popularity and receiving all types of national exposure. There was so much hype around me and the Hokies, and we had a great team returning with an explosive offense. We were loaded with Lee Suggs at running back, along with wide receivers André Davis and my former Warwick High teammate, Andrae Harrison. The only thing I wanted was to achieve at the highest level. I really wanted to win
a national championship, but I also desired the Heisman Trophy so I could bring it back to my Newport News neighborhood.

I don't know if I can fully explain the Heisman hype and the pressure that came with it. The Department of Athletics at Virginia Tech created a special website tracking my performances and the Heisman race. They developed a huge PR campaign supporting me, which I was grateful for, but I can't say that it didn't become a distraction and add pressure.

Our season started well. We won our first eight games and climbed to No. 2 in the AP and, most importantly, BCS polls. We were getting close to playing for the national title again. Late in the season against unranked Pittsburgh, however, I suffered a high-ankle sprain that limited me the remainder of the season. I sprained my ankle during the second quarter, trying to stay back and make a big play when I could have easily made it downfield for a shorter gain. My team stepped up big-time and won the game, 37-34.

The injury ended up eliminating me from the Heisman race. I wanted to win the Heisman, not for myself, but for Newport News. Bringing that trophy back to my city was the dream that fueled me. I was just a kid with dreams, who grew up in poverty like so many others there. I wanted to bring it back. I wanted to be an encouragement to others in the city that I loved. The opportunity was right there, and something that I couldn't control—an injury—prevented me from seizing it.

I'm convinced that the injury happened because I lost sight of what was important. I was consumed with the Heisman race, and my focus was on me. I was still concerned with the team, but I also
entered each game knowing that I had to produce stats and be efficient. I put a tremendous amount of pressure on myself to play above expectations, lead my team, and win the Heisman Trophy. I was at a point where the pressure affected my play; I was playing hesitantly and indecisively and was afraid to make mistakes.

The injury severely limited me in the biggest game of the year—November 4, 2000, against Miami—when we were ranked No. 2 in the country and they were No. 3. The winner would most likely take the Big East crown and potentially the conference's BCS berth in the national championship game: the 2001 FedEx Orange Bowl.

I was day-to-day all week prior, spent a good deal of time in a special Fortis Brace, and was a game-time decision. I didn't start the game, but attempted to play after we fell behind. I lasted only nineteen snaps. I gave it my best shot and tried to be there for my team, but I just couldn't do it. I wouldn't take the pain-killing shot, which would've numbed me, potentially allowing me to play some more (I'm afraid of needles). Plus, I felt it would be selfish to go out and play. I thought I would be hurting my teammates more than helping them.

All I could do in the second half was watch as we went on to lose 41-21, essentially ending our national title hopes. It was excruciating being unable to play in a game that I still believe we would have won if I'd been healthy. Every year, it seemed, an injury slowed me down.

After the loss, the Heisman talk mostly ended. Though that was disappointing, it may have helped me play better in the final game of the season and our bowl game. It was like the weight of the
whole world was lifted off my shoulders. We beat Virginia 42-21 to close out the regular season and then defeated Clemson 41-20 in the Gator Bowl, where I was named the game's MVP.

We again finished 11-1 and were ranked No. 6 and No. 5 nationally in the final AP and BCS polls, respectively. I finished the season with a 54.2 completion percentage, passing for about 1,500 yards and nine touchdowns while rushing for nearly 700 yards and nine touchdowns.

As for the Heisman, I finished sixth in the voting. Chris Weinke, the quarterback at Florida State, won the honor. Future NFL players Drew Brees and LaDainian Tomlinson finished third and fourth in the voting.

Though I had two years of college eligibility remaining, I began weighing the possibility of turning pro, especially since there was word that I could be the first overall pick in the NFL draft—something that had never before happened for an African-American quarterback.

It was a tough decision. I had become so accustomed to living a balanced life at Virginia Tech. I was having a blast; I was on my own, in control of my life and career, and in charge of the offense at one of the top collegiate programs in the country, which had contended for the national championship the last two seasons.

I knew moving to the NFL would mean greater responsibility. Even though there would be no schoolwork involved, there would be more of a need to dedicate myself to perfecting my craft on
the football field, and there would be more pressure to win games. I knew all the things that came along with playing professional football; I just didn't know if I was responsible enough to do those things, and if I was ready for it. But as time went on and I saw the opportunity present itself, along with the potential to go No. 1, it seemed that everything I wanted was right there in front of me.

But it was hard because I would have to tell my coaches and my mom that I was going to leave Virginia Tech. When I finally made my decision, I had an emotional conversation with Coach Beamer. He called me and told me, “Regardless of what you do, I'm going to support you … to the very last day.” Coach was crying on the phone, and I had tears in my eyes. I told him, “Coach, I'm leaving. I have to do it, not only for myself but for my family.”

It was one of the toughest decisions I'd had to make at that point in my life. I was used to being around Coach Beamer and my teammates—it was comfortable. The Virginia Tech program provided a family atmosphere, and they had given me the opportunity to come and run the program. They put all their trust in me. Virginia Tech meant a great deal to me, so leaving was a very hard thing to do.

It was difficult to leave Tech and turn pro because I had not yet received my college degree, which was important to me and my family—especially my mother. I left school with fewer than forty credit hours remaining (I think thirty-six, to be exact) to qualify for graduation. I promised my mom I would eventually go back to school to complete my studies and earn my degree.

Contrary to what some people may think, I actually did enjoy school. When I entered college, I really wanted to study criminology, but that wasn't offered as a major at Tech. Ironic as it may sound, I desired to work in forensics—to do undercover work—after my football career was over. I decided to major in sociology instead.

I was not the best student; I was just average. But I gave a good effort. I took advantage of the academic support the Hokies provided: I went to study hall, and I met with all my tutors. I am proud to say that my academic eligibility and standing were never in question. I probably could have performed better in the classroom, but the fact was that football took up a lot of my time, even though I do not want to use that as an excuse.

I have fond memories of the people who supported my studies at school—my professors, tutors, and advisors. But one person who really stood out was my favorite professor, Nikki Giovanni from the English department. She was an accomplished poet, a published author, and an expert in African studies. Everyone who had her as a teacher really enjoyed her classes. I had a deep love and appreciation for her and how well she was able to teach and keep her students engaged. It was cool because a lot of my teammates and I were in her class together, and we were able to learn from her as a team.

One of Professor Giovanni's famous quotes is this: “Everything will change. The only question is [whether it's] growing up or decaying.”

The choice was mine.

Coach Beamer joined my mother and me at the Boys & Girls Club in Newport News for the press conference on January 11, 2001, announcing my decision to turn pro.

I almost didn't make the deadline to enter the draft for underclassmen because the NFL does not accept fax copies of transcripts—they require original copies. Two days before the deadline, we boarded a small, private plane to travel from the Hampton, Virginia, area to Roanoke. We then drove to the Tech campus in Blacksburg to pick up my college transcripts so they would make it to the NFL office on time. It was a close call. I made it nonetheless.

The day I announced my decision to turn pro was an emotional time for all of us. Coach Beamer knew what type of environment I came from because he had visited me two or three times at my house in Ridley Circle. So he understood how incredible it was for me to have a chance to play in the NFL and to earn a significant income for my family and me.