Post by Purple Pain on May 6, 2024 9:45:38 GMT -6
She spotted a tumbleweed in the wild, the shaggy plant floating, rotating and lingering over a cracked road in the middle of the desert. Ebbony Jackson was mesmerized, certainly, but also mildly concerned.
Her family had already driven three hours east from San Diego to a town 30 miles north of the Mexican border. They had curved around mountains, navigated one-lane highways and seen plenty of cacti. Arriving at Arizona Western College in Yuma and noticing a tumbleweed only heightened her anxiety.
Am I really about to leave my son here?
She was not even sure Khyree was ready to live on his own. He was 17 years old and fixated on a football dream. He had played wide receiver at Wise High School (Upper Marlboro, Md.) and caught 12 touchdowns as a senior. Bad grades limited his college options, which is how he ended up so far away. Ebbony cried once the family left him. On the car ride to the airport, she almost pleaded: “I hope he can adjust. I hope.”
Khyree called in the ensuing weeks. Typically confident, even brash, her child sounded reserved, removed, disengaged. Ebbony sensed it would only be a matter of time until he called and told her he was finished. She tried to delay the inevitable, mailing him a Kevin Hart autobiography for inspiration on his birthday, Aug. 11, but it didn’t take. He called a few weeks later and told her it was over.
Once they returned to Maryland with his belongings, Ebbony left him alone for a while. Football, in her mind, was a vestige of the past. Something they could look back on fondly years later.
“I thought he was done with it,” Ebbony says now. “And I think that’s why my heart, right now, is filled with so much excitement.”
Her family had already driven three hours east from San Diego to a town 30 miles north of the Mexican border. They had curved around mountains, navigated one-lane highways and seen plenty of cacti. Arriving at Arizona Western College in Yuma and noticing a tumbleweed only heightened her anxiety.
Am I really about to leave my son here?
She was not even sure Khyree was ready to live on his own. He was 17 years old and fixated on a football dream. He had played wide receiver at Wise High School (Upper Marlboro, Md.) and caught 12 touchdowns as a senior. Bad grades limited his college options, which is how he ended up so far away. Ebbony cried once the family left him. On the car ride to the airport, she almost pleaded: “I hope he can adjust. I hope.”
Khyree called in the ensuing weeks. Typically confident, even brash, her child sounded reserved, removed, disengaged. Ebbony sensed it would only be a matter of time until he called and told her he was finished. She tried to delay the inevitable, mailing him a Kevin Hart autobiography for inspiration on his birthday, Aug. 11, but it didn’t take. He called a few weeks later and told her it was over.
Once they returned to Maryland with his belongings, Ebbony left him alone for a while. Football, in her mind, was a vestige of the past. Something they could look back on fondly years later.
“I thought he was done with it,” Ebbony says now. “And I think that’s why my heart, right now, is filled with so much excitement.”
Khyree’s room at Arizona Western College at least had a bathroom. At Fort Scott, the entire floor of about 25 young men shared one bathroom with four showers.
“It was not ideal conditions,” Ebbony says. “Not at all.”
Thomas coached defensive backs at the school at the time. His description of the living quarters:
“Awful,” he says. “Awful, awful, terrible, terrible, terrible.”
As Ebbony wiped away stains in Khyree’s room, he seemed calm. Leaving, she thought: He must really want this.
Fort Scott started him as a receiver. The head coach, Kale Pick, joked that Khyree’s 6-foot-4 frame, paired with his movement ability, reminded him of Randy Moss. Then one day, while walking out to the practice fields, Khyree approached Pick and said: “You know, Coach, my real position is cornerback.”
This wasn’t totally true. Hearing this story now, DaLawn Parrish, Khyree’s high school coach at Wise, says: “I like to call Khyree ‘the Crowd Pleaser.’ It’s like he thrives on attention. Khyree is Khyree. Khyree be Khyreeing. Khyree be dominating at wide receiver. Khyree don’t get no love. Khyree will say, ‘Let me go play DB.’”
“Khyree,” Pick said, “I think you can play this game a long time at receiver.”
“No, just give me a chance at DB,” Khyree said. “That’s where my passion is.”
They negotiated. Pick and Thomas, the cornerbacks coach, agreed. They’d give Khyree two days to show them what he was capable of. Thomas watched Khyree’s feet and hips and was convinced — Khyree could and should be a defensive back.
“The coach called me mad,” Parrish says. “He goes, ‘I don’t understand. He’s my No. 1 receiver.’ I said, ‘Did you let him?’ ‘Yeah.’ I said, ‘Ha ha, now you just put him in the right. Khyree Khyreed you, buddy.’”
Thomas challenged Khyree daily. He would line him up against seven receivers in a row and see if Khyree could hold his own. The relationship cultivated a bond that still remains, and the coaching points also enhanced Khyree’s technique to the point that Division I schools began to call.
After the 2019 season, Fort Scott’s coaches resigned. Khyree still needed credits to solidify a Division I opportunity, so he transferred to East Mississippi Community College (a junior college powerhouse and the site of Netflix’s “Last Chance U”). The school’s coach, Buddy Stephens, thought so highly of Khyree’s movement ability and instincts at his size (“he could bait a wide receiver and quarterback better than anybody I’ve ever had,” Stephens says) that he called Roach, who scouted Khyree and put him on Nick Saban’s radar.
That’s how Ebbony and Khyree found themselves on a Zoom call with Saban during COVID-19. Ebbony did not know who Saban was, but the entire conversation felt different than others in that the coach seemed to be interviewing them as opposed to the other way around.
“It was intimidating,” Ebbony says.
The prestige of Alabama attracted Khyree, though, and he ultimately committed.
“That put Khyree’s confidence on a whole different level,” Parrish says. “It was, ‘I can go down here and do stuff. I know who I am.’”
“It was not ideal conditions,” Ebbony says. “Not at all.”
Thomas coached defensive backs at the school at the time. His description of the living quarters:
“Awful,” he says. “Awful, awful, terrible, terrible, terrible.”
As Ebbony wiped away stains in Khyree’s room, he seemed calm. Leaving, she thought: He must really want this.
Fort Scott started him as a receiver. The head coach, Kale Pick, joked that Khyree’s 6-foot-4 frame, paired with his movement ability, reminded him of Randy Moss. Then one day, while walking out to the practice fields, Khyree approached Pick and said: “You know, Coach, my real position is cornerback.”
This wasn’t totally true. Hearing this story now, DaLawn Parrish, Khyree’s high school coach at Wise, says: “I like to call Khyree ‘the Crowd Pleaser.’ It’s like he thrives on attention. Khyree is Khyree. Khyree be Khyreeing. Khyree be dominating at wide receiver. Khyree don’t get no love. Khyree will say, ‘Let me go play DB.’”
“Khyree,” Pick said, “I think you can play this game a long time at receiver.”
“No, just give me a chance at DB,” Khyree said. “That’s where my passion is.”
They negotiated. Pick and Thomas, the cornerbacks coach, agreed. They’d give Khyree two days to show them what he was capable of. Thomas watched Khyree’s feet and hips and was convinced — Khyree could and should be a defensive back.
“The coach called me mad,” Parrish says. “He goes, ‘I don’t understand. He’s my No. 1 receiver.’ I said, ‘Did you let him?’ ‘Yeah.’ I said, ‘Ha ha, now you just put him in the right. Khyree Khyreed you, buddy.’”
Thomas challenged Khyree daily. He would line him up against seven receivers in a row and see if Khyree could hold his own. The relationship cultivated a bond that still remains, and the coaching points also enhanced Khyree’s technique to the point that Division I schools began to call.
After the 2019 season, Fort Scott’s coaches resigned. Khyree still needed credits to solidify a Division I opportunity, so he transferred to East Mississippi Community College (a junior college powerhouse and the site of Netflix’s “Last Chance U”). The school’s coach, Buddy Stephens, thought so highly of Khyree’s movement ability and instincts at his size (“he could bait a wide receiver and quarterback better than anybody I’ve ever had,” Stephens says) that he called Roach, who scouted Khyree and put him on Nick Saban’s radar.
That’s how Ebbony and Khyree found themselves on a Zoom call with Saban during COVID-19. Ebbony did not know who Saban was, but the entire conversation felt different than others in that the coach seemed to be interviewing them as opposed to the other way around.
“It was intimidating,” Ebbony says.
The prestige of Alabama attracted Khyree, though, and he ultimately committed.
“That put Khyree’s confidence on a whole different level,” Parrish says. “It was, ‘I can go down here and do stuff. I know who I am.’”
...
“He’s got a s— ton of ability now,” Roach says.
Another Alabama staffer, Drew Svoboda, says: “If he can get it all going, I mean, this guy … I’m talking about, like, an unbelievable talent.”
The Vikings recognized the potential at the Senior Bowl, and defensive backs coach Daronte Jones, who is a Maryland native, spent about 30 minutes one afternoon with Jackson one-on-one. Minnesota then prioritized him with its fourth-round pick.
Khyree was snaking his way through Tysons Corner Center, a mall about a half-hour from home, when he received the call he had been drafted. He immediately FaceTimed his mother, who screamed when she saw Khyree’s name on the screen: “It’s Minnesota!”
In the days since his dream came true, those who have shared this path have a lot to say.
Parrish, the high school coach, said Khyree’s “got nine lives, boy.”
Thomas said this of Jackson: “If he trusts you, he’ll run through a wall for you. If he doesn’t trust you, he’ll go the other way. That’s Minnesota’s job from here on out, to build that trust the right way.”
“Khyree and I always have this line,” Ebbony said, “of, ‘Just another chapter for my story.’”
It’s a crowd-pleaser to this point. Just the way Khyree likes it.
Another Alabama staffer, Drew Svoboda, says: “If he can get it all going, I mean, this guy … I’m talking about, like, an unbelievable talent.”
The Vikings recognized the potential at the Senior Bowl, and defensive backs coach Daronte Jones, who is a Maryland native, spent about 30 minutes one afternoon with Jackson one-on-one. Minnesota then prioritized him with its fourth-round pick.
Khyree was snaking his way through Tysons Corner Center, a mall about a half-hour from home, when he received the call he had been drafted. He immediately FaceTimed his mother, who screamed when she saw Khyree’s name on the screen: “It’s Minnesota!”
In the days since his dream came true, those who have shared this path have a lot to say.
Parrish, the high school coach, said Khyree’s “got nine lives, boy.”
Thomas said this of Jackson: “If he trusts you, he’ll run through a wall for you. If he doesn’t trust you, he’ll go the other way. That’s Minnesota’s job from here on out, to build that trust the right way.”
“Khyree and I always have this line,” Ebbony said, “of, ‘Just another chapter for my story.’”
It’s a crowd-pleaser to this point. Just the way Khyree likes it.
... and neither is this Chris guy.