In the age of ESPN, the Saturday night Game of the Week and the BCS, if you still want to catch a glimpse of college football's regional roots amidst the modern obsession with deciphering "the best [insert position] in the country," the Heisman Trophy presentation from New York's Times Square on Dec. 9 was an unlikely opportunity.
For the obvious winner, Ohio State's soft-spoken but intense Troy Smith, the story was one of redemption from the unforgiving Cleveland streets; for hunky Notre Dame quarterback Brady Quinn, a paean to his outgoing, early graduating, LSAT-acing perfection. For each, the scope of the Heisman stage is a natural extension of quarterbacking success at two of America's most perpetually spotlighted, venerated programs. The soft-focus lead-in for Darren McFadden, the first finalist ever from Arkansas, on the other hand, consisted of the 19-year-old sophomore gushing along the lines of "These is some big buildings up here." When he began to inelegantly recall Sept. 11, 2001, from Ground Zero, my dad groaned and declared, "They don't need to let him talk anymore."
There's no reason Patrick Willis' off-field camera savvy should be much greater than his SEC counterpart, but Arkansas media handlers might want to slip McFadden a tape of the senior Ole Miss linebacker's performance on the national stage on Dec. 7. A week after accepting the Conerly Trophy as the best player in Mississippi on Nov. 28, Willis was the emotional hit of the Home Depot-sponsored national awards in Florida when he humbly dedicated the Butkus Award—given to the player determined by the Downtown Athletic Club of Orlando to be the best major college linebacker in America—to his younger brother, Detris, who drowned in August, two weeks before Ole Miss' opener with Memphis. In a statement released by the university, Willis said he was so "in shock" when his name was called, his foster mother had to repeat the announcement to get him out of his seat. That may not be likely to go down with John Cappelletti, whose teary 1973 Heisman shout-out to his cancer-stricken brother is the standard for heart-wrenching award acceptances, but the tackle machine's transition from on-field terror to rubber-chicken-circuit dignitary should secure his high standing in local gridiron lore.
College players of Willis' caliber these days are all used to talking to the media, but aside from the odd context of the rubber-chicken circuit, interviews are typically conducted in a locker room or on the field after practice or a game. The players are more at home on their turf, where they tower in shoulder pads over interrogators, rather than plush banquet rooms, where dignified emcees reign surrounded by deep, polished wood tones and tailored suits, along with plates of barely recognizable fowl—effective sedatives to the aggressive physicality for which these players ostensibly exist. Willis' position, relative to other players more accustomed to national cameras, offers some distinct disadvantages to overcome.
Also, Willis is a loser. Not individually, obviously, but his heroics the last three seasons have coincided with the dismal post-Eli stretch of Rebel history: After winning nine games, including the Cotton Bowl, and tying for the SEC West title in 2003, Ole Miss fell to 5-6 in 2004, 3-8 in '05 and 4-8 this season, with a combined 3-13 record in the SEC the past two years. Nobody else in the room was representing a losing school that day, not either of Willis' overrated competitors—Ohio State's James Laurinitis and defending Butkus winner Paul Posluszny of Penn State—nor any other player up for any of the other awards.
And on that note, if you're one who would gamble on the emotions of others, a fairly certain bet: At the Conerly presentation, where runners-up Damion Fletcher of Southern Miss and Scott Eyster of Delta State were preparing for the Conference USA Championship and the second round of the NCAA Division II championship playoffs, respectively, it was Willis most of all wishing he could be in his fellow nominees' shoes. He probably deserved to be.
It wouldn't matter much that Fletcher and GMAC Bowl-bound Southern Miss ultimately dropped the C-USA title game, or that Eyster's Statesmen lost in the Division II semi-finals. Recalling the success of his freshman season, Willis could tell you it's an honor, after all, just to be part of a team with more at stake in December than the individual trophy case.