During a training
camp session on a sauna-like day, running back Travis Henry spots a
photographer shooting pictures of him from about 40 feet away. He smiles,
points, then flashes the thumbs-up sign. The 25-year-old is cheerful and
relaxed, exhibiting little concern that former University of Miami superstar
Willis McGahee is starting for him while he sits out and heals bruised ribs.
He says the pain is
not nearly as bad as the torn rib cartilage or the hairline leg fracture he
played with last year. Still, he admits that just as a precaution, he likely
won’t practice or play until the Bills prepare for their Week 1 September 12
home opener against Jacksonville.
The time off doesn’t
seem to concern him, even with McGahee around. From the sideline he chats with
Drew Bledsoe, jokes with a ball boy, tosses a football in the air, obviously
completely comfortable with his standing on the team. He emits the confidence
found in a running back who’s played in the Pro Bowl, averaged nine rushing
touchdowns a year, and competed the last two seasons with the top NFL backs for
the rushing title.
As he kneels on one
leg, he reminds me of Bono during U2’s 1983 “Sunday Bloody Sunday” performance
at Red Rocks. It would be impossible to mistake the two for each other, though
they’re both about 5 feet 8 inches. Bono seems more intense and dramatic. Henry
looks like he’s ready to go fishing, with a red bucket hat (the kind weekend
fishermen wear) and a pair of hip shades (the kind Bono might like). I can’t
see Henry belting out “Sunday Bloody Sunday,” but he might try the Black Eyed
Peas’ “Where is the Love?”
So where is the love for Henry? He has rushed for nearly 2,800 yards and 23 touchdowns the last two
years, yet people seem to minimize his accomplishments as if he’s a second-rate
journeyman who bounced to his fifth NFL team. Perhaps they’re just interpreting
the actions of management, which has tried its hardest to secure talent to
compete with or replace Henry.
General Manager Tom
Donahoe’s philosophy is that in the NFL, there’s no place for players who don’t
want to compete every day. I understand that, but let me put it differently: If
a team has a 24-year-old Jim Kelly, who just had an all-star season, would it
draft another blue-chip quarterback in the first round?
In 2002, Donahoe
signed ex-Steelers/Panthers running back Richard Huntley, and last year, he
drafted McGahee 23rd overall. They were peculiar transactions because Henry has
always led the team in rushing, and posted exceptional stats, since he arrived
in Buffalo three years ago.
In fairness, Henry’s
future was shaky after his rookie year in 2001, and I could see why Donahoe
would acquire Huntley, who didn’t make the team. During his first season,
Henry, then 22, pleaded guilty to a misdemeanor for consensual sexual contact
with a minor who allegedly told him she was 18. It’s something Henry has told
me he remorsefully regrets. Unfortunately, that kind of episode can be a public
relations death sentence for an athlete.
Huntley’s presence
was a warning for Henry to shape up, and he responded with his best year as a
pro in 2002, even chasing some of O.J. Simpson’s franchise scoring and rushing
marks.
But then the Bills
picked McGahee, whom they didn’t need at all. Henry just rushed for the
fifth-most yards in a Bills season, scored the second-most rushing touchdowns
in a Bills season, and made the Pro Bowl. He proved himself repeatedly behind
an offensive line that has been a concern nearly every year since Jim Kelly
retired in 1997. In retrospect, that pick would have been better used on
anything else — anything. McGahee,
22, was an extravagance the 8-8 Bills simply couldn’t afford.
Additionally, Buffalo
didn’t even know what it was getting from the extravagance. McGahee was
recovering from a gruesome three-ligament knee tear just a few months before,
and he still might not ever be the same. In fact, not long ago, the injury was
considered so severe doctors might have amputated.
Donahoe certainly
made a wacky and bold move, and though I really respect people with the guts to
be original, it was a move I disagree with.
Then again, it’s fun
to do reckless things once in a while. I remember playing Asteroids on my Atari
as a kid and I would move my spaceship through the asteroid belt at warp speed,
just shooting randomly and hoping for success. I’d get killed in a few seconds,
but man, that was a lot more fun than staying in the middle of the screen. I’d
get bored.
So I could see why
Donahoe would draft McGahee. When you’re in the asteroid belt and you’re stuck
in the same place all the time, it can make you nuts.
One of Henry’s interests is weightlifting, a hobby not exactly for the unmotivated. As a Frostproof High
School senior, Henry won a Florida weightlifting title with a state-record
670-pound weight total, benching 350 pounds and lifting 320 pounds in the clean
and jerk.
On the field, Henry
plays with injuries that could threaten his long-term career. He buys into that
team-first, sacrifice-for-the-greater-good mentality that NFL coaches and
general managers preach.
Yet, those efforts
don’t seem to benefit him much in the PR arena. Henry might not be as
charismatic as Michael Jordan, but he’s a fantastic, big-hearted, dedicated,
and fearless player.
It’s time to show him
some love.
This article appears in Sep 1-7, 2004.
