ruf/nekdad
12/26/2007, 10:05 AM
Baker's backers
http://www.tulsaworld.com/articleimages/2007/071226_B1_GWorl34656_b1ou26pack.jpg
By GUERIN EMIG World Sports Writer
12/26/2007
OU linebacker learns the hard way to take help when it’s offered
NORMAN -- Five years, 54 wins, 168 tackles and a captaincy earn Oklahoma linebacker Lewis Baker the right to pretty much say what he wants. And he has some things worth hearing.
Remember when middle linebacker Lance Mitchell tore up his knee during the Sooners' game against Fresno State on Sept. 13, 2003?
" 'Coach V' was almost in tears," Baker said of Brent Venables, OU's linebacker coach and defensive coordinator. "He looked at me with the craziest look I'd ever seen from a man, like I'd shot someone in his family. He told me, 'Get ready. You're playing this year.'
"I was like, 'Man, chill out. I wasn't the one who hurt him.' He threw me in on the kickoff team, and I knew I'd better start breaking my neck."
Then there was the spring of Baker's junior year at Carrollton (Texas) Hebron High, when a recruiting letter from Vanderbilt had him bawling like a baby.
"It talked about a $35,000 scholarship, and I just went, 'Holy crap,' " Baker said. "I called their linebacker coach, Warren Belin, and told him right then, 'I want to come here.
I know.'
"He thought I was crazy. He said, 'Look, son, you're probably going to get some big-name schools after you. You better not do this now.' "
Baker will tell you some stories. But if you really want to learn something, take something from his college career that will end with the Jan. 2 Fiesta Bowl against West Virginia, lean in and listen carefully when he says, "You don't get places without the help of a number of people. I believe I'm a reflection of them and need to represent them the best I can.
"I play in honor of those people."
sh5 The mother
Baker was 3, maybe 4 years old the night his mother, Linda, took him, his twin brother, Leon, and his older sister, Ardena, from their father in Ocala, Fla.
"I remember seeing my dad slam my mother on the floor that night," Baker said. "She had put up with him for us, and every woman in that situation probably hopes things are going to change. But I guess that did it."
For three weeks, the displaced Bakers took refuge in a shelter, before moving into a Section 8 apartment in a low-income section of Ocala.
"Ocala is great for retirees who come down to live on the lake. Otherwise, all you see are drugs, crime and a high unemployment rate," said Joe Baker, Lewis' older brother who used a basketball scholarship from NAIA school Francis Marion in Florence, S.C., and later the U.S. Army to escape. "There is no middle class, just a lot of bad influences."
For 10 years, Linda Baker did her best to steer Lewis, Leon and Ardena away from those influences.
"She was out of work, living off the government, and she had melanoma in her arm so her health was bad," Lewis said. "She was 39 when she had Leon and me. Being an older mom, she didn't have the energy she needed. Eventually, we started walking all over her.
"It's not easy raising twin boys, especially with no father figure around in an environment where nobody was doing anything to help themselves."
Linda feared Ocala would swallow her kids, particularly her twins. So the summer before Baker's seventh-grade year, she reached out to her oldest son, Joe, who was married, just out of the military and living in Dallas. Lewis and Leon were moving to Texas.
The brother
"Joe Baker took the role of both Lewis' brother and father," said Joe McBride, Lewis' defensive coordinator at Hebron. "He gave him tough love and strong structure."
How tough?
"He'd wake us up in middle of the night to do our chores," Lewis said.
How strong?
"If I didn't do what I was supposed to around the house," Lewis said, "he wouldn't pick me up from school."
"I saw the wrong path when I was a kid," said Joe, Lewis' elder by 16 years. "People were strung out or in jail or not doing anything with their lives. I was lucky. I took up sports to stay out of trouble.
"So I had a vested interest with Lewis. I told him, 'If you don't want to follow my rules and pull your weight, you're not playing at all.' "
Leon didn't last a year under Joe's house rules before returning to Ocala. Lewis made it three, through his freshman year at Hebron.
"Then I started disrespecting my brother's wife, started mouthing off," Lewis said.
Joe had a solution when Lewis started going to a friend's house instead of work.
"We put his stuff in the (Ford) Expedition and took him back home," Joe said.
Back in Ocala, Lewis realized how good he'd had it in Dallas.
"I started calling everyone, all of my friends," Lewis said. "I had to get back."
The family
"My son, Brock, came to me one afternoon and said, 'Dad, what would you think if a friend came to live with us for a while, Lewis Baker?' " said Lonn Mullins, a construction firm superintendent who, along with his wife, Sheila, had raised seven kids in Carrollton, Brock being the youngest. "I said, 'Who is Lewis Baker?'
"He said, 'He's a friend of mine who played 7-on-7 (football) with me last spring, but now he's back in Florida.' He told us how bad a place it was, with all the adverse things going on with Lewis and his family."
Mullins had the means to feed and house Baker. Growing up the son of an Assembly of God minister, he also had the heart.
Ultimately, though, the decision wasn't his.
"I told Brock, 'You're going to have to decide. He'd be your brother, and that's a serious commitment,' " Mullins said. "He thought about it and told his Mom and me, 'I want him to move in.' "
So as his sophomore year started, Lewis moved in. The first thing the Mullinses did was throw him a birthday party. The soft stuff, waves of hugging and kissing, followed to take the edge off Joe's tough love. Before long, Mullins' grandkids were calling Baker "Uncle Lew-Lew."
"They didn't know me at all, yet they let me in their home and helped me earn my way," Lewis said. "That's all I wanted."
Baker could start to see a future. All he needed was one more push.
The coach
"Lewis never stepped on any kind of field until ninth grade," Joe Baker said. "He went out for football, and his first two weeks, he got knocked out twice."
"Lewis was a tall, skinny guy that wore big glasses and was with our freshman B group," said McBride. "But he was so likeable. He'd drawn the crest we used at Hebron. And I'd never seen someone so passionate."
"Coach McBride was always in my ear," Baker said. "He taught me to be a leader, to put others first and he got every bit out of me that he could. He also told me, 'God rewards those who work hardest.' "
In the spring before Baker's junior season, McBride moved him from cornerback to linebacker.
"They said 'Hut!' and Lewis just cut loose and ran," McBride said. "His first play, he flattened somebody. I went, 'Whoa.' "
A year later, McBride took Baker to OU's one-day camp.
"Coach Venables saw him for about 15 minutes," McBride said, "and offered him right there in the office."
Turns out that Belin was right. Baker could do better than Vanderbilt.
Five years, 54 wins, 168 tackles and a captaincy later, Venables is asked about the kid he offered in 15 minutes.
"It was rough. No real stability. He had a broken home. His mom had some health issues," Venables said. "Then some people got their arms around him."
They got something for their effort.
"I've really seen Lewis mature, to the point he's telling me some of the same things I told him," Joe Baker said. "Stuff like, 'It may not always seem fair, but everything comes together if you keep a positive attitude.' That's when you know you've gotten through."
"Brock was 10 years younger than our next-oldest son," Lonn Mullins said. "Lewis provided him a brother. He gave our family someone else to nurture."
"I use him as an example," said McBride, now head coach at Liberty High in Frisco, Texas. "This day and age, so many kids make so many excuses for doing wrong. Lewis had every opportunity to make bad choices, but he never did. He didn't want to let his mom, his loved ones or his coaches down. He cared deeply about them."
But nobody got what Baker did.
"When I see guys that remind me of myself, I tell them no matter what, whether it's in football or not, you have to want to do something with your life," he said. "You can, if you have a little help."
http://www.tulsaworld.com/articleimages/2007/071226_B1_GWorl34656_b1ou26pack.jpg
By GUERIN EMIG World Sports Writer
12/26/2007
OU linebacker learns the hard way to take help when it’s offered
NORMAN -- Five years, 54 wins, 168 tackles and a captaincy earn Oklahoma linebacker Lewis Baker the right to pretty much say what he wants. And he has some things worth hearing.
Remember when middle linebacker Lance Mitchell tore up his knee during the Sooners' game against Fresno State on Sept. 13, 2003?
" 'Coach V' was almost in tears," Baker said of Brent Venables, OU's linebacker coach and defensive coordinator. "He looked at me with the craziest look I'd ever seen from a man, like I'd shot someone in his family. He told me, 'Get ready. You're playing this year.'
"I was like, 'Man, chill out. I wasn't the one who hurt him.' He threw me in on the kickoff team, and I knew I'd better start breaking my neck."
Then there was the spring of Baker's junior year at Carrollton (Texas) Hebron High, when a recruiting letter from Vanderbilt had him bawling like a baby.
"It talked about a $35,000 scholarship, and I just went, 'Holy crap,' " Baker said. "I called their linebacker coach, Warren Belin, and told him right then, 'I want to come here.
I know.'
"He thought I was crazy. He said, 'Look, son, you're probably going to get some big-name schools after you. You better not do this now.' "
Baker will tell you some stories. But if you really want to learn something, take something from his college career that will end with the Jan. 2 Fiesta Bowl against West Virginia, lean in and listen carefully when he says, "You don't get places without the help of a number of people. I believe I'm a reflection of them and need to represent them the best I can.
"I play in honor of those people."
sh5 The mother
Baker was 3, maybe 4 years old the night his mother, Linda, took him, his twin brother, Leon, and his older sister, Ardena, from their father in Ocala, Fla.
"I remember seeing my dad slam my mother on the floor that night," Baker said. "She had put up with him for us, and every woman in that situation probably hopes things are going to change. But I guess that did it."
For three weeks, the displaced Bakers took refuge in a shelter, before moving into a Section 8 apartment in a low-income section of Ocala.
"Ocala is great for retirees who come down to live on the lake. Otherwise, all you see are drugs, crime and a high unemployment rate," said Joe Baker, Lewis' older brother who used a basketball scholarship from NAIA school Francis Marion in Florence, S.C., and later the U.S. Army to escape. "There is no middle class, just a lot of bad influences."
For 10 years, Linda Baker did her best to steer Lewis, Leon and Ardena away from those influences.
"She was out of work, living off the government, and she had melanoma in her arm so her health was bad," Lewis said. "She was 39 when she had Leon and me. Being an older mom, she didn't have the energy she needed. Eventually, we started walking all over her.
"It's not easy raising twin boys, especially with no father figure around in an environment where nobody was doing anything to help themselves."
Linda feared Ocala would swallow her kids, particularly her twins. So the summer before Baker's seventh-grade year, she reached out to her oldest son, Joe, who was married, just out of the military and living in Dallas. Lewis and Leon were moving to Texas.
The brother
"Joe Baker took the role of both Lewis' brother and father," said Joe McBride, Lewis' defensive coordinator at Hebron. "He gave him tough love and strong structure."
How tough?
"He'd wake us up in middle of the night to do our chores," Lewis said.
How strong?
"If I didn't do what I was supposed to around the house," Lewis said, "he wouldn't pick me up from school."
"I saw the wrong path when I was a kid," said Joe, Lewis' elder by 16 years. "People were strung out or in jail or not doing anything with their lives. I was lucky. I took up sports to stay out of trouble.
"So I had a vested interest with Lewis. I told him, 'If you don't want to follow my rules and pull your weight, you're not playing at all.' "
Leon didn't last a year under Joe's house rules before returning to Ocala. Lewis made it three, through his freshman year at Hebron.
"Then I started disrespecting my brother's wife, started mouthing off," Lewis said.
Joe had a solution when Lewis started going to a friend's house instead of work.
"We put his stuff in the (Ford) Expedition and took him back home," Joe said.
Back in Ocala, Lewis realized how good he'd had it in Dallas.
"I started calling everyone, all of my friends," Lewis said. "I had to get back."
The family
"My son, Brock, came to me one afternoon and said, 'Dad, what would you think if a friend came to live with us for a while, Lewis Baker?' " said Lonn Mullins, a construction firm superintendent who, along with his wife, Sheila, had raised seven kids in Carrollton, Brock being the youngest. "I said, 'Who is Lewis Baker?'
"He said, 'He's a friend of mine who played 7-on-7 (football) with me last spring, but now he's back in Florida.' He told us how bad a place it was, with all the adverse things going on with Lewis and his family."
Mullins had the means to feed and house Baker. Growing up the son of an Assembly of God minister, he also had the heart.
Ultimately, though, the decision wasn't his.
"I told Brock, 'You're going to have to decide. He'd be your brother, and that's a serious commitment,' " Mullins said. "He thought about it and told his Mom and me, 'I want him to move in.' "
So as his sophomore year started, Lewis moved in. The first thing the Mullinses did was throw him a birthday party. The soft stuff, waves of hugging and kissing, followed to take the edge off Joe's tough love. Before long, Mullins' grandkids were calling Baker "Uncle Lew-Lew."
"They didn't know me at all, yet they let me in their home and helped me earn my way," Lewis said. "That's all I wanted."
Baker could start to see a future. All he needed was one more push.
The coach
"Lewis never stepped on any kind of field until ninth grade," Joe Baker said. "He went out for football, and his first two weeks, he got knocked out twice."
"Lewis was a tall, skinny guy that wore big glasses and was with our freshman B group," said McBride. "But he was so likeable. He'd drawn the crest we used at Hebron. And I'd never seen someone so passionate."
"Coach McBride was always in my ear," Baker said. "He taught me to be a leader, to put others first and he got every bit out of me that he could. He also told me, 'God rewards those who work hardest.' "
In the spring before Baker's junior season, McBride moved him from cornerback to linebacker.
"They said 'Hut!' and Lewis just cut loose and ran," McBride said. "His first play, he flattened somebody. I went, 'Whoa.' "
A year later, McBride took Baker to OU's one-day camp.
"Coach Venables saw him for about 15 minutes," McBride said, "and offered him right there in the office."
Turns out that Belin was right. Baker could do better than Vanderbilt.
Five years, 54 wins, 168 tackles and a captaincy later, Venables is asked about the kid he offered in 15 minutes.
"It was rough. No real stability. He had a broken home. His mom had some health issues," Venables said. "Then some people got their arms around him."
They got something for their effort.
"I've really seen Lewis mature, to the point he's telling me some of the same things I told him," Joe Baker said. "Stuff like, 'It may not always seem fair, but everything comes together if you keep a positive attitude.' That's when you know you've gotten through."
"Brock was 10 years younger than our next-oldest son," Lonn Mullins said. "Lewis provided him a brother. He gave our family someone else to nurture."
"I use him as an example," said McBride, now head coach at Liberty High in Frisco, Texas. "This day and age, so many kids make so many excuses for doing wrong. Lewis had every opportunity to make bad choices, but he never did. He didn't want to let his mom, his loved ones or his coaches down. He cared deeply about them."
But nobody got what Baker did.
"When I see guys that remind me of myself, I tell them no matter what, whether it's in football or not, you have to want to do something with your life," he said. "You can, if you have a little help."