Post by theultimatekcchiefsfan on Jun 5, 2003 1:14:16 GMT -5
By MICKEY SPAGNOLA
DallasCowboys.com Columnist
June 3, 2003, 6:20 p.m. (CDT)
IRVING, Texas - He doesn't have a big head, but then he doesn't have his money yet, either.
He knows he's going to get it, probably in the neighborhood of $10 million sometime next month, but he doesn't carry himself around the locker room here as if a man merely days away from making the trek down to Austin for his lottery payoff.
Be this a two month impression, Terence Newman appears a grounded young man, a guy with his head screwed on with the precision of medium Phillips.
"I've never had a lot of money," Newman says. "When you don't have money, sometimes you're wiser."
Conjugate that word anyway you want. Wise. Wiser. Wisest. Wisely. Somehow they can be used in direct correlation with this Cowboys' first-round draft choice.
Maybe it's because he's already 24 years old, going on 25..
Maybe it's his Midwestern Kansas roots, where values become more imbedded and opportunities more cherished.
Maybe it was his upbringing, having seen his mama go the extra mile to not only provide for him, but to make sure he was given the opportunity to make more of himself than his ancestors. (Wait, no maybes here. I'm sure on this one.)
And maybe since he once was this skinny, scrawny kid who claims to have been lithe enough to sink through the shower drain five or six years ago, he became obsessed with always having to prove himself.
But tell you what: Bill Parcells is wasting his energy taking these preventive measures with Newman. The kid is too shrewd. He probably understands why he, the fifth pick in the entire NFL draft, is having to share a locker with first-year free agent Keith Davis.
He probably giggles inside while carrying that symbolic cup of water to Big Bill during breaks in practice. And come on, not having a star on his helmet? The reigning college defensive player of the year? The guy some teams rated the best player available in this draft? That's like sending your college-aged kid to timeout all over again.
Newman just grins and bears it, then goes out onto the practice field and picks himself off a pass. Or bats another one down. Or fluidly fields a punt. Or does something so quick, so instinctively in these pad-less practices, even these coaches must contain themselves from inserting the Salina Sizzle into the starting lineup yesterday.
"Great burst, good feet, competitive, smart," were the first six words out of defensive coordinator Mike Zimmer's mouth when asked his impressions of his newest defensive toy.
So Newman being inserted in the starting lineup will happen in due time. Let me go out on this 20-year-old oak limb, even though I've probably seen Newman play but one entire game of college football and have yet to watch him practice in pads: The Cowboys finally have hit on a cornerback, big time.
This isn't Alundis Brice, a project taken back in 1995, the Cowboys hoping he would eventually overcome a gun-shot wound that narrowly missed ending his life but four months prior to the draft.
This isn't Kenny Wheaton, who never had the speed to excel at this level.
This isn't Dwayne Goodrich, who never had the moxie needed to play the second toughest position in the NFL, next only to quarterback.
This isn't Kareem Larrimore, whose troubled spots, as abundant as his natural talent, could not be washed away, no matter how many chances he received or still is receiving in the Arena Football League.
And as much as the Cowboys appreciate Mario Edwards, who is solid, and are thrilled about the possibilities of Derek Ross, whose past still posts a "what if" tattoo among his ample collection, this ain't them, either.
Oh, Parcells will tell you Newman is but "a rookie." That he must earn his way. And he's right on both counts. But hooked to a lie detector, the bar graph would wildly jump right there. He, too, senses what he has in this guy I hesitate to call a kid since he turns 25 three days before the Sept. 7 season opener against Atlanta.
They don't all come this talented and this grounded, one of those two variables usually colliding maddeningly along the way. And did I mention confident, but not in a thingyy way? That's what I want in my corner, as important as the sauce on a sparerib.
"I wouldn't have it any other way," Newman said when asked his thoughts on lining up third-team during his first mini-camp with veterans present. This is not just lip service either; not simply saying what he's supposed to say for one so new. The guy means it.
"The best person will play," Newman said at the start of his third and final mini-camp out here this week. "That should be best for everybody. Nothing is secure, and everybody on the team should like it.
"You're going to have a battle, and everybody on the team gets better because of it. I wouldn't have it any other way."
That's because, it seems, he knows something the rest of us don't. Now again, there are no pads on. The real bullets aren't flying yet. There are no repercussions here in these jersey-and-shorts workouts for getting beat. But you know how they talk about certain athletes having "it." Well, Newman has that certain something, the same thing you just knew Roy Williams had the minute he stepped into The Ranch last year.
"He reminds me of kind of like Roy was last year," Zimmer says. "Humble, but confident. Doesn't' act like a rookie, but doesn't overstep his bounds."
Newman is exactly what I want in my cornerback. He's got to be a no-conscience jump shooter. He believes he's going to make every shot he takes, and no matter how many he misses, he just knows the next one is going in. These cold-hearted souls never quit shooting.
The good corners, they love living on the edge, love the challenge and never, ever lose their nerve.
"He thinks he can do this, no question about that," said Zimmer, who definitely is not one for hyperbole. "He's not lacking for confidence, but not arrogant about it. We'll see what happens."
Yes we will. This mini-camp stuff is just that: Mini-glimpses. You see Newman pick off a couple of passes in the workout with the vets two weeks ago. You see him effortlessly field punts. He picked another in Monday's workout, and broke up another. He remains fluid catching punts, no matter how high or how wind blown they might be. He continues to move effortlessly through the locker room, a pleasant mixture of sincerity, clown and confidence, fitting in easily with the veteran and the undrafted rookie alike.
Plus, you can tell, he likes ball. He's not afraid of it. He embraces it. Says he's not sure if it's anxiety or what, but he's having trouble sleeping nights.
"I don't know," he rather innocently says, "I just think about making plays all day, and I can't get to sleep. It's not like I'm nervous at all."
No, it's not like that. Not at all. He's just in a hurry to prove himself to himself, but wise enough not to step on anyone's toes along the way. And when that impending pay day is brought up, and don't get me wrong, the guy likes the prospects of money, who wouldn't, he gets a tad uncomfortable. That's not how he wants to stand out.
"I'm Terence Newman, just another guy," he wisely says.
And that's fine with the Cowboys, especially since all signs point to him being Terence Newman, not just another corner.