Ricky Henry article

[HuskerfaninOkieland]

Omaha World Herald

 

Henry figuring out how to focus the fury

By Dirk Chatelain

WORLD-HERALD BUREAU

 

LINCOLN — “You want to hear the truth about Ricky Henry?”

 

That's Niles Paul speaking, and he's in the mood to tell a story. Actually, it seems everyone likes to tell Ricky Henry stories.

 

Henry went to Omaha Burke. Paul went to Omaha North. One fall night in 2005, they met on a football field.

 

Burke's quarterback fumbled. Henry picked up the ball and, according to Paul, could've scored a touchdown. Ricky Henry wasn't interested in scoring a touchdown.

 

“Ricky ran directly at me,” Paul said. “I was kind of off to the sideline. I knew he was running directly at me. So instead of tackling Ricky, I backed off and let my teammates tackle Ricky — and then I jumped on him.

 

“I remember Ricky being one of the toughest/dirtiest players we ever played in high school. Ricky made sure when he hit you, you were going to feel him hit you.

 

“Everybody knew about Ricky Henry. Everybody.”

 

Niles Paul is one of the biggest/strongest wide receivers in college football. But when he tells that story, he smiles and makes a confession.

 

“I was scared. I was scared of Ricky Henry.”

 

Two sides

 

Off the football field, Ricky Henry doesn't seem all that scary.

 

He wears cowboy boots and watches Larry the Cable Guy. His idea of an exotic weekend is sleeping on a fishing boat.

 

In high school, he drove a cheap Jetta. Stick shift. Great gas mileage. A little small. Sometimes when Ricky delivered pizzas for Valentino's, he stuck his head out the sunroof.

 

“He looked like Fred Flintstone,” said his mom, Maria.

 

When Husker assistant John Papuchis made a special trip to a North Dakota junior college to recruit him, Ricky Henry barely said a word.

 

“Oddest recruiting trip I've ever taken,” Papuchis once said.

 

That's all one side of Ricky Henry.

 

But hand him a helmet and he turns into a Molotov cocktail — 300 pounds of fury exploding on impact. He's a feisty run blocker, relentless in pass protection. He plays each snap as if his manhood's at stake.

 

“I can't even hear the whistle half the time I'm playing,” he says. “I just have tunnel vision.”

 

Ricky's coaches — past and present — call him a testament to how the game should be played. One of the nastiest competitors they've ever seen. Teammates think he's the craziest.

 

The trick for Ricky Henry has always been striking the right balance. Harnessing his passion. Focusing it.

 

Most of his 23 years, he failed. He got in fights. He got ejected. He let anger overcome him. That's the Ricky Henry most people know.

 

But those close to him say there's another story to be told. How a vulnerable kid with loads of talent almost lost everything — then salvaged it.

 

Ricky Henry might just be Nebraska's best offensive lineman. The fifth-year senior is on track to earn a college degree. Those two statements are worth emphasis, said Mike Braun, Henry's high school wrestling coach.

 

“I guarantee there's a lot of people who thought he'd end up in jail.”

 

Ashamed to lose

 

Henry won a Class A heavyweight wrestling title as a senior. Outlasted a rival from North High in the state final.

 

That's not the story Mike Braun tells his wrestlers each year.

 

In the first tournament of Henry's senior year, he was locked in a battle with an out-of-state opponent.

 

To start the second period, Henry had his choice of position. Up, down or neutral. Coach wanted him to choose down. Ricky wanted to choose neutral. Ricky gave in.

 

Ten seconds into the period, Henry got pinned.

 

“Ricky was irate,” Braun said. “He could've killed anybody right there at that time. He came off the mat. He's ready to get kicked out of the place. Honestly, he was close.”

 

Henry got in Braun's face and yelled: “I told you I didn't want to go down! I told you!”

 

Braun knew Ricky Henry as well as anyone. He knew about Ricky's personal struggles. Sometimes the kid broke down in a heap of tears and Braun had to throw an arm around him.

 

When Ricky Henry got pinned that day, Braun could see the shame on Ricky's face.

 

So Coach told Henry: Blame me. When people ask you what happened, Ricky, tell them that it was my fault.

 

Immediately, Henry's emotion changed. He cooled off.

 

Five years later, Braun still treasures the bond he built with Henry. But he acknowledges that he chose an unusual coaching method that day:

 

“It was sure better than having him getting kicked out of the dang building.”

 

Turning point

 

Henry grew up in a single-parent home. Just Mom and two sisters.

 

They had their share of disputes. He skipped school. Shot BB guns. Picked fights on the Little League diamonds.

 

“He had a lot of anger,” family friend Guy Thomas said. “He was just really a confused young man.”

 

Confused, but incredibly strong and explosive. Talented enough to earn a football scholarship to Nebraska.

 

His grades weren't good enough to qualify.

 

Bill Callahan's staff wanted to send him to a California junior college. Henry's friends and family thought North Dakota State College of Science might be a little more his style.

 

Things didn't change right away.

 

Henry got ejected from the last high school football game he ever played. And he got ejected from his first junior college game, too.

 

“He and a young man got into it,” Thomas said. “Push, shove, push, shove. He picked him up and slammed him down in the middle of the football field.”

 

That could've been the end of Ricky Henry. He could've played his last football in front of a few hundred fans at a North Dakota junior college full of condemned bleachers.

 

“All of a sudden,” Maria Henry said, “something clicked and he was like, ‘If I'm going to make it, I'm going to have to get along with people.' ”

 

Henry settled down — just a little. He hit the books and raised his grades. He spent the 2007 summer in Fargo. Woke up early morning, worked out, laid concrete for the city, then went to school at night.

 

He did enough to earn a second scholarship offer from Nebraska.

 

Henry redshirted and played scout team in 2008. He tussled with Ndamukong Suh. He established a reputation for going hard to the whistle — and slightly past it.

 

Before one game, he was so fired up he heat-butted teammate Hunter Teafatiller. Only one of them was wearing a helmet, so Henry had to get stitches.

 

How many times that year did offensive line coach Barney Cotton say, “Take a breath, Ricky. Take a deep breath. Now smile.”

 

In 2009, Henry made his long-awaited debut and started at guard. He has received a few scholarships. Even won the Husker award for knockdown blocks.

 

Each day, his understanding of technique gets a little closer to his level of intensity.

 

“Everybody's got the Ricky Henry stories from high school,” Cotton said. “The penalties and stuff like that. But that's not who Ricky is right now.

 

“He's an absolutely dedicated student ... He's one of the most committed and dedicated guys I've ever coached.

 

“I love the guy.”

 

Not quite Teddy Bear

 

So that's it? Angry lineman turns big Teddy Bear? Transformation complete?

 

Actually, there's not exactly consensus that Ricky Henry has evolved.

 

On one hand, Niles Paul says: “Ricky has calmed down a lot since high school. He's a smarter player. I mean in high school, he was a loose cannon. I thought he was going to fight every game.”

 

On the other hand, there's Jared Crick: “He's trying to start a fight with somebody every single day. He's just crazy. ... He'll have a rumble royale if you really want to get into it with him.”

 

Maybe Ricky Henry — at his best — walks the fine line. Maybe a man can mature — and still be crazy. Maybe Mom gets it right.

 

“He's grown up a lot,” Maria Henry said. “Now he can channel everything into killing the guy across the line from him.”

 

Unfortunately, it's not always the guy across the line.

 

On Nebraska's first day of pads in fall camp, Mike McNeill lined up as a slot receiver. He followed his assignment, made a block, then waited for a whistle.

 

Crunch. McNeill got blindsided.

 

“He just de-cleated me,” McNeill said. “And then stood over me as I was just lying on the ground dead.

 

“So thank you, Ricky Henry. Next time block the defense.”

 

Contact the writer:

 

649-1461, dirk.chatelain@owh.com

 

[NUance]

Henry went to Omaha Burke. Paul went to Omaha North. One fall night in 2005, they met on a football field.

 

I went to that game. Tons of talent. Ricky Henry and Alex Henery played for Burke. Niles Paul for North. So did Phil Bates QB who went to Iowa State.

[BIGREDFAN_in_OMAHA]

Here's to hoping Henry puts it all together and has an awesome season!!

[Husker_x]

Great article. Cotton seems like the kind of coach that could shape that kind of personalty into something a little more productive. Hope he has a heck of a season.