Sooner in Tampa
8/14/2009, 07:45 AM
http://www2.tbo.com/exposure/ar/385/255/2009/08/13/9835_0813fennelly.jpg
TAMPA - What about Jimmy Wilkerson?
What about the proud man at left end of the Bucs defensive line? Who is he? Gaines Adams we know. He's on the right end, out to finally live up to first-round draft hype.
What about Jimmy Wilkerson?
"I have goals for myself," Wilkerson said. "I want double-digit sacks. This is my first real swing at this. You dream about doing big things."
First dreams first: Jimmy Wilkerson is listed as a starter on the Bucs preseason depth chart. He had never been listed as a starter on a depth chart in six other NFL seasons.
"It means something," Wilkerson said.
He came to Tampa as a free agent last season after five frustrating years in Kansas City, where the sixth-round draft pick fought to start full time, but never won.
What about Jimmy Wilkerson?
"I remember Jimmy Wilkerson walking in here a year ago with his suit on. I kind of chuckled, like, who is this guy who we're getting?" Bucs coach Raheem Morris said. "Turns out he was one of the biggest steals out there."
Wilkerson, 28, had five sacks last season. He'd had two half-sacks his whole career before that. He's smart and caring and soft-spoken. Then a game starts, or even a practice, and the 6-foot-2, 270-pound Wilkerson flips a switch. All out, all or nothing. Once last year, he got so pumped he took his helmet off and head-butted teammate Geno Hayes, who was still in his helmet. Everybody stared.
"Jimmy is the kind of guy you always wanted to play with in your career," Bucs defensive tackle Chris Hovan said. "I've played with top picks, guys with potential, big talkers, but when you give a guy like Jimmy, who could be a truck driver ... you get a guy who goes hard every play. If you were in a foxhole, you want a guy like Jimmy."
In January 2001, Wilkerson was a freshman linebacker at Oklahoma and the Sooners were playing for the national title against Florida State and Heisman winner Chris Weinke. Oklahoma coach Bob Stoops wanted one Sooners defender to shadow Weinke, rushing from all angles. It had to be someone quick. Most of all, Stoops said, he had to be hungry. The OU staff tossed around some names. Stoops interrupted.
"What about Jimmy Wilkerson?"
Wilkerson had never played defensive line before. The night before his 20th birthday, he did.
"I was so nervous," he said. "I didn't sack Weinke, but I got to him a few times. And we won the national title."
What about Jimmy Wilkerson?
What about hunger?
His began in the northeast corner of Texas, two hours east of Dallas, near the Arkansas border. For Jimmy Boyd Wilkerson Jr., home is a place called Omaha, population 999, presumably because he moved away.
"It's as country as country gets," Wilkerson said. "We got one stop light, one Dairy Queen, one gas station/grocery store."
He grew up in a three-bedroom house that was always about to fall down, with his folks and five brothers and sisters. The roof leaked. There were rats.
"One time I woke up one morning and I was fixing to put my foot down and there was a snake there. We had snakes everywhere, moccasins, all kinds of snakes."
But he grew up under a night sky filled with millions of stars and he had a wish for each one. And the catfish were always biting. He got his first gun when he was 12 and chased down squirrels in the fields. Lots of times that was dinner, because his mom, Zeffie, who held down the house, didn't make much.
"One of my great memories is sitting in the car with my dad on Friday nights and listening to blues music or jazz," Wilkerson said. "But sometimes he'd go drinking, come back and pass out in the car. I'd have to bring him in the house."
Jimmy Sr. served in the Army, then lost his way, in and out of jail, drug problems, drinking problems. Jimmy Sr. has been clean 12, 13 years.
"He'd take me places to do his drugs, like his heroin," Wilkerson said. "I was a kid. What could I do, say something and maybe get my head beat in, or keep it inside and say that's not gonna be me?"
What about Jimmy Wilkerson?
As an Oklahoma sophomore, he made the cover of Sports Illustrated. There he is, getting one of his three sacks against the Texas quarterback: Chris Simms. But on draft day in 2003, Wilkerson waited. Five rounds came and went. He got in his truck and drove to a park, ready to cry or go crazy or both, until the Chiefs took him 189th overall.
Every season, he worked hard and every time he looked at the Chiefs depth chart, he wasn't on top. He'd go home to his wife, Jamie (they met at OU, where she was a pole vaulter) and she would listen. "She always knows what to say to me when I'm down. She picks me up," Wilkerson said.
They have two young sons, Tyson and Maddox, and another boy on the way. At Bucs camp, Tyson or Maddox play in Jimmy's helmet after his work. They want to be like their dad.
What about Jimmy Wilkerson?
This is the first time he has ever been in a camp where his stomach doesn't churn with worry about getting cut, though he never has been.
"It feels like my first true shot at a starting position."
So he works and works, with a hunger that never stops, like the rain through the roof in Omaha, with plans as starry as a Texas night, with a story and dreams as touching as the times he and his dad fiddled with that car radio, looking for something, anything, soft and sweet.
What about Jimmy Wilkerson?
That's what.
TAMPA - What about Jimmy Wilkerson?
What about the proud man at left end of the Bucs defensive line? Who is he? Gaines Adams we know. He's on the right end, out to finally live up to first-round draft hype.
What about Jimmy Wilkerson?
"I have goals for myself," Wilkerson said. "I want double-digit sacks. This is my first real swing at this. You dream about doing big things."
First dreams first: Jimmy Wilkerson is listed as a starter on the Bucs preseason depth chart. He had never been listed as a starter on a depth chart in six other NFL seasons.
"It means something," Wilkerson said.
He came to Tampa as a free agent last season after five frustrating years in Kansas City, where the sixth-round draft pick fought to start full time, but never won.
What about Jimmy Wilkerson?
"I remember Jimmy Wilkerson walking in here a year ago with his suit on. I kind of chuckled, like, who is this guy who we're getting?" Bucs coach Raheem Morris said. "Turns out he was one of the biggest steals out there."
Wilkerson, 28, had five sacks last season. He'd had two half-sacks his whole career before that. He's smart and caring and soft-spoken. Then a game starts, or even a practice, and the 6-foot-2, 270-pound Wilkerson flips a switch. All out, all or nothing. Once last year, he got so pumped he took his helmet off and head-butted teammate Geno Hayes, who was still in his helmet. Everybody stared.
"Jimmy is the kind of guy you always wanted to play with in your career," Bucs defensive tackle Chris Hovan said. "I've played with top picks, guys with potential, big talkers, but when you give a guy like Jimmy, who could be a truck driver ... you get a guy who goes hard every play. If you were in a foxhole, you want a guy like Jimmy."
In January 2001, Wilkerson was a freshman linebacker at Oklahoma and the Sooners were playing for the national title against Florida State and Heisman winner Chris Weinke. Oklahoma coach Bob Stoops wanted one Sooners defender to shadow Weinke, rushing from all angles. It had to be someone quick. Most of all, Stoops said, he had to be hungry. The OU staff tossed around some names. Stoops interrupted.
"What about Jimmy Wilkerson?"
Wilkerson had never played defensive line before. The night before his 20th birthday, he did.
"I was so nervous," he said. "I didn't sack Weinke, but I got to him a few times. And we won the national title."
What about Jimmy Wilkerson?
What about hunger?
His began in the northeast corner of Texas, two hours east of Dallas, near the Arkansas border. For Jimmy Boyd Wilkerson Jr., home is a place called Omaha, population 999, presumably because he moved away.
"It's as country as country gets," Wilkerson said. "We got one stop light, one Dairy Queen, one gas station/grocery store."
He grew up in a three-bedroom house that was always about to fall down, with his folks and five brothers and sisters. The roof leaked. There were rats.
"One time I woke up one morning and I was fixing to put my foot down and there was a snake there. We had snakes everywhere, moccasins, all kinds of snakes."
But he grew up under a night sky filled with millions of stars and he had a wish for each one. And the catfish were always biting. He got his first gun when he was 12 and chased down squirrels in the fields. Lots of times that was dinner, because his mom, Zeffie, who held down the house, didn't make much.
"One of my great memories is sitting in the car with my dad on Friday nights and listening to blues music or jazz," Wilkerson said. "But sometimes he'd go drinking, come back and pass out in the car. I'd have to bring him in the house."
Jimmy Sr. served in the Army, then lost his way, in and out of jail, drug problems, drinking problems. Jimmy Sr. has been clean 12, 13 years.
"He'd take me places to do his drugs, like his heroin," Wilkerson said. "I was a kid. What could I do, say something and maybe get my head beat in, or keep it inside and say that's not gonna be me?"
What about Jimmy Wilkerson?
As an Oklahoma sophomore, he made the cover of Sports Illustrated. There he is, getting one of his three sacks against the Texas quarterback: Chris Simms. But on draft day in 2003, Wilkerson waited. Five rounds came and went. He got in his truck and drove to a park, ready to cry or go crazy or both, until the Chiefs took him 189th overall.
Every season, he worked hard and every time he looked at the Chiefs depth chart, he wasn't on top. He'd go home to his wife, Jamie (they met at OU, where she was a pole vaulter) and she would listen. "She always knows what to say to me when I'm down. She picks me up," Wilkerson said.
They have two young sons, Tyson and Maddox, and another boy on the way. At Bucs camp, Tyson or Maddox play in Jimmy's helmet after his work. They want to be like their dad.
What about Jimmy Wilkerson?
This is the first time he has ever been in a camp where his stomach doesn't churn with worry about getting cut, though he never has been.
"It feels like my first true shot at a starting position."
So he works and works, with a hunger that never stops, like the rain through the roof in Omaha, with plans as starry as a Texas night, with a story and dreams as touching as the times he and his dad fiddled with that car radio, looking for something, anything, soft and sweet.
What about Jimmy Wilkerson?
That's what.