Rukdafaidas
09-15-2005, 07:05 AM
http://www.kansascity.com/mld/kansascity/sports/football/nfl/kansas_city_chiefs/12647827.htm
ROOKIE LINEBACKER A QUICK HIT
Sudden impact
Johnson makes big plays without making big waves
By ELIZABETH MERRILL
The Kansas City Star
The biggest change is the shoes. Sneakers, in social settings, are now a fashion faux pas for Derrick Johnson. He’s kicking in a pair of black shiny numbers at Circuit City, signing autographs, eyeballing a half-eaten pizza on the counter. He’s talking about the strangest autograph request since he’s come to Kansas City. A girl asked him to sign her Chihuahua.
“That was crazy,” Johnson says.
Johnson is in his sixth hour of PR trips and radio shows, and a guy plunks down at least eight hats. Johnson signs them all.
Nothing has changed for Derrick O’Hara Johnson. Just look at him. Last weekend, the day before his NFL debut, the Chiefs’ rookie linebacker picked his mom up in a limo, whisked her to the Peach Tree restaurant, then took her to his new townhome on the Plaza, which is still under construction.
Johnson wants her to decorate the pad.
“He’s the baby,” Beverly Johnson says.
In a lot of ways, mother and son are alike. They never get too excited about things. Beverly’s a middle-school math teacher in Waco, Texas, and on Wednesday, one of the football coaches there stopped in and wondered why she was so calm, why she wasn’t bragging over her son’s nine-tackle performance Sunday against the New York Jets. Johnson also got a sack and stripped the ball from quarterback Chad Pennington.
Rookie linebackers don’t really do that kind of stuff in Kansas City, let alone anywhere else in the NFL. A few days after the game, Johnson graded his performance somewhere between a B-minus and a C-plus.
But he did call his mama, and he told her that he’s up for rookie of the week honors.
Derrick didn’t tell many people this, but that big breakfast was not sitting well in the hours before Sunday’s kickoff. Johnson had a serious case of butterflies. He’d never been to an NFL game, never hit a collection of football players as big and fast as the Jets.
By the third defensive play of the game, when Johnson stuffed Curtis Martin for a 2-yard loss, those nerves were gone.
“The pressure of a game doesn’t really … I’m not saying it doesn’t bother him — it doesn’t affect him negatively,” coach Dick Vermeil says. “He does some of the same things instinctively that he did in college. He goes to tackle a guy and takes his right hand and tries to get the football. Now, we coach that all the time, we can coach some guys to do that and they’ll never do it. It just doesn’t fall into their instincts at that time, their thinking pattern.
“I saw him do four or five things like that. He can make mistakes and still run and catch up and make up for it.”
He’s level-headed. That’s what Christie Burgner says as they scramble around town Tuesday doing promotional work for Vonage, a broadband telephone service.
He’s sore. Johnson says he woke up Monday with more than the average aches and pains he had after a college football game.
But he lifted and ran on the Chiefs’ day off, and he occasionally drifted back to the couple of times Sunday when he “messed up on my coverage.”
“Some people look at it like ‘Oh, that’s nothing,’ ” Johnson says. “But I’m the type of person who tries to be the best. I’m pretty hard on myself. I expect to do great things.”
On a defense that ranked 31st last year, Johnson already has made an impact. By Monday morning, NFL analysts were raving about the Chiefs’ revamped defense. Johnson helped Kansas City hit the quarterback 14 times Sunday and come within 29 seconds of a shutout.
He’s spotted in shopping malls and on the Plaza now, and Johnson says he’ll always stop for an autograph. His mom noticed the high volume of No. 56 jerseys being worn at Arrowhead Stadium on Sunday. She didn’t expect that type of quick following for a rookie.
Then again, Johnson isn’t your average 22-year-old. He used to see his mom nearly every week when he played at Texas, even though home was about 100 miles away. She’d always pull a $100 bill out of her purse and ask whether he had enough gas and groceries.
Now, Johnson’s paying his family back, and the limo ride has just begun. Before every game, Beverly’s baby used to scan the crowd and look for his mom. It made him feel better knowing she was in the stadium. It still does.
“I’ve got a little bit more money to buy some ostrich shoes,” Johnson says, “but I won’t change. I know where I came from.”
ROOKIE LINEBACKER A QUICK HIT
Sudden impact
Johnson makes big plays without making big waves
By ELIZABETH MERRILL
The Kansas City Star
The biggest change is the shoes. Sneakers, in social settings, are now a fashion faux pas for Derrick Johnson. He’s kicking in a pair of black shiny numbers at Circuit City, signing autographs, eyeballing a half-eaten pizza on the counter. He’s talking about the strangest autograph request since he’s come to Kansas City. A girl asked him to sign her Chihuahua.
“That was crazy,” Johnson says.
Johnson is in his sixth hour of PR trips and radio shows, and a guy plunks down at least eight hats. Johnson signs them all.
Nothing has changed for Derrick O’Hara Johnson. Just look at him. Last weekend, the day before his NFL debut, the Chiefs’ rookie linebacker picked his mom up in a limo, whisked her to the Peach Tree restaurant, then took her to his new townhome on the Plaza, which is still under construction.
Johnson wants her to decorate the pad.
“He’s the baby,” Beverly Johnson says.
In a lot of ways, mother and son are alike. They never get too excited about things. Beverly’s a middle-school math teacher in Waco, Texas, and on Wednesday, one of the football coaches there stopped in and wondered why she was so calm, why she wasn’t bragging over her son’s nine-tackle performance Sunday against the New York Jets. Johnson also got a sack and stripped the ball from quarterback Chad Pennington.
Rookie linebackers don’t really do that kind of stuff in Kansas City, let alone anywhere else in the NFL. A few days after the game, Johnson graded his performance somewhere between a B-minus and a C-plus.
But he did call his mama, and he told her that he’s up for rookie of the week honors.
Derrick didn’t tell many people this, but that big breakfast was not sitting well in the hours before Sunday’s kickoff. Johnson had a serious case of butterflies. He’d never been to an NFL game, never hit a collection of football players as big and fast as the Jets.
By the third defensive play of the game, when Johnson stuffed Curtis Martin for a 2-yard loss, those nerves were gone.
“The pressure of a game doesn’t really … I’m not saying it doesn’t bother him — it doesn’t affect him negatively,” coach Dick Vermeil says. “He does some of the same things instinctively that he did in college. He goes to tackle a guy and takes his right hand and tries to get the football. Now, we coach that all the time, we can coach some guys to do that and they’ll never do it. It just doesn’t fall into their instincts at that time, their thinking pattern.
“I saw him do four or five things like that. He can make mistakes and still run and catch up and make up for it.”
He’s level-headed. That’s what Christie Burgner says as they scramble around town Tuesday doing promotional work for Vonage, a broadband telephone service.
He’s sore. Johnson says he woke up Monday with more than the average aches and pains he had after a college football game.
But he lifted and ran on the Chiefs’ day off, and he occasionally drifted back to the couple of times Sunday when he “messed up on my coverage.”
“Some people look at it like ‘Oh, that’s nothing,’ ” Johnson says. “But I’m the type of person who tries to be the best. I’m pretty hard on myself. I expect to do great things.”
On a defense that ranked 31st last year, Johnson already has made an impact. By Monday morning, NFL analysts were raving about the Chiefs’ revamped defense. Johnson helped Kansas City hit the quarterback 14 times Sunday and come within 29 seconds of a shutout.
He’s spotted in shopping malls and on the Plaza now, and Johnson says he’ll always stop for an autograph. His mom noticed the high volume of No. 56 jerseys being worn at Arrowhead Stadium on Sunday. She didn’t expect that type of quick following for a rookie.
Then again, Johnson isn’t your average 22-year-old. He used to see his mom nearly every week when he played at Texas, even though home was about 100 miles away. She’d always pull a $100 bill out of her purse and ask whether he had enough gas and groceries.
Now, Johnson’s paying his family back, and the limo ride has just begun. Before every game, Beverly’s baby used to scan the crowd and look for his mom. It made him feel better knowing she was in the stadium. It still does.
“I’ve got a little bit more money to buy some ostrich shoes,” Johnson says, “but I won’t change. I know where I came from.”