By Kyle Jorrey
Sports Editor
Unless you’re one of those “weird” people who don’t watch sports on TV, chances are you’ve seen the recent outburst by University of Miami tight end Kellen Winslow, Jr., after his team’s 10-6 embarrassment at the hands of the Tennessee Volunteers. And not only have you had to see it once, but over, and over and over again.
In the days following Miami’s second-straight regular season loss, after it had reeled off 39 straight wins in three years prior, all the networks have taken great joy in displaying what can happen if you mix superego with super stupidity.
But I’m not here to rag on Winslow for telling everyone “I’m a mutha (expletive) soldier,” and saying he was out to “kill” the defender because they were trying to “kill” him. No, that’s already been done plenty, and it’s just too easy.
Instead, I’m here to say why this incident reminded me how lucky I am to cover sports at a school where we have no players like Winslow, and in my opinion, probably never will. And it’s not just because we don’t have a football team (smart aleck).
I’m under the impression Winslow caught one too many episodes of ESPN’s new NFL drama, “Playmakers” (you know the one where the running back smokes crack cocaine during halftime) and his emotions got the best of him. But the problem with Winslow, who may be the greatest tight end prospect ever to come out of college, is not his temper, or his dirty mouth. It is how this great athlete has chosen to embrace his superhuman abilities.
If I was to guess, I would say that somewhere around 1 percent of people are born with the superior physical attributes to be successful in sports. The rest of the athletes who make it past high school simply work hard enough to make up for those natural physical shortcomings.
You notice these kids at a young age. They’re the ones at the YMCA basketball courts standing three inches taller than everyone, grabbing all the rebounds and effortlessly knocking down noodle-armed preteens to the hard floor. They’re the ones who go out and score three touchdowns in a game and then proceed to toss a one-hitter the next night.
Yes, it’s true some got it and some don’t, but the real telltale of character is what you do with it when you’ve got it.
Kellen Winslow, Jr., is the son of Kellen Winslow, Sr., a NFL Hall of Fame tight end who played nine seasons in the league; so let’s be honest, this kid was born with good football genes. Winslow, who just recently turned 20 years of age, is 6 foot 5, 243 pounds and runs a sub-4.6, 40-yard dash — that’s wide receiver speed, folks. The self-proclaimed “Chosen One,” Winslow has been wowing scouts and trampling opponents since his middle school days in San Diego.
Some say that much like his father, this Winslow could revolutionize the tight end position. But unlike his father, who was known to be a class act, Winslow Jr. has mistaken his superhuman abilities for an excuse to act like the hip-hop version of the classic meathead.
Here at Pepperdine these incredible athletes walk among us every day, only we never notice them. Instead of screaming at reporters about on-field homicide, they’re winning lots of games, and doing it with little, if any, publicity.
We are home to some of the nation’s best athletes in a variety of sports, but every time we (as in the Graphic sports staff) want to talk about their individual accolades all these guys want to talk about is “the team, the team.” Proof that athletic ability doesn’t always translate into ego.
At a small school like Pepperdine, athletes, even the really good ones, never seem to forget that that when you wipe it all away they are just another student trying to succeed in whatever it is they can. Maybe its because everyone seems so accessible that our athletes don’t develop the kind of big heads that cause outbursts like Winslow’s.
I mean it’s kind of hard to look at the guy struggling in your Spanish class and eating bad Caf food as some kind of superhero.
At Pepperdine, we respect our athletes, we cheer for them, but we don’t worship them. If you’re at the University of Miami and you’re Kellen Winslow, you’re a God, so you act like it.
I’ll admit, I don’t mind a little bit of cockiness in athletes— two years ago when then Pepperdine senior forward Jimmy Miggins told me he could take on any player in the country one-on-one, I loved it. I even printed it real big. But I knew this kind of “me” attitude would never go over well at Pepperdine.
At this school, when I call an athlete at home, I don’t worry that he or she will shrug me off because the Los Angeles Times has been calling all day. And I know when I ask them a question, I’m going to find out about the status of the team, not just the individual.
That is the true spirit of sports, and it makes my job as a sports journalist that much more fulfilling.
So let Miami keep “The Chosen One” and his my-jock-don’t-stink attitude. We’ll just keep bringing home conference titles, grabbing national attention, and doing it with respect and grace that reflects true athletes, and the true Pepperdine spirit.
“Y’all can print that.”
November 13, 2003