Courting a Golden Child
Bulldogs QB signee Stafford has led charmed football life
By CARTER STRICKLAND
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Published on: 12/18/05
PARK CITIES, Texas ? After four years, the stares aren't supposed to still be there.
The swath in the hallway is not supposed to be this wide.
The second looks are supposed to have stopped.
After four years, Matthew Stafford is supposed to be just another 17-year-old in the corridors of Texas' Highland Park High School. But each year, he has taught these people ? peers, principals, classmates, coaches, even town council members ? he is not.
"You just don't see someone like him everyday," said Blackie Holmes, the mayor of University Park, Texas. "Actually, it's rare to see someone like him."
Rarer still is that someone walks through life in sheer nonchalance. That is the aim of Stafford.
Almost reluctantly, Stafford is the "it" guy of Highland Park. Maybe even of Texas after the Scots won last week's Texas 4A title by a 59-0 score. Throw Georgia in there, as well, since Stafford's spring commitment to the Bulldogs made him the highest-profile recruit of the Mark Richt era.
But no matter how hard the quarterback tries to blend in, Stafford can't. His talent won't let him.
In the beginning
Matthew Stafford was ready before anybody was ready for him.
"I don't know what he was doing in there," said Margaret Stafford, remembering the pregnancy. "But there was a lot of banging around."
Seventeen years later, the answer is clear ? warming up that arm.
This was a child with a preternatural ability.
By 4, he had the spiral down.
By 5, the concept of pulling offensive linemen.
By the first grade?
"He was the one you wanted on your team," said Jake Feldt, a longtime friend.
And to think Margaret spent all those hours worrying.
"People kept telling me I had to work with his fine motor skills," she said. "But all he wanted to do was play with any ball he could gets his hands on.
"So every time he would pick up a ball, I would go over and say, 'Here, try some LEGOs. Just please play with these.' "
Little Matthew refused to listen. Margaret is still thankful for that.
So too are folks in University Park and Highland Park ? the Park Cities. It is these neighbor towns that feed Highland Park High. Surrounded by the concrete jungle of Dallas, the Park Cities exist as an enclave for the social elite of north Texas. Inside "The Bubble," as it's called, the average home sale in 2004 was $720,127, according to North Texas Real Estate Information Systems. More than a dozen houses went for more then $2 million. And it's not uncommon for the price per square foot to top $425.
Collectively, the towns have the power to buy whatever they want. But what they wanted most was what they first tasted in 1945 when a capacity crowd of 45,000 watched the Scots take their first state title at the Cotton Bowl. The hunger only grew with the second title in 1957. But in 48 years, this community has learned victory cannot be bought. It must be earned.
"We've waited for 48 years to bring the championship back here," said Winkie Turner, a member of the 1957 championship team, Highland Park's last. "This is the team that can get it done."
They've been saying that about this team, Stafford's team, since before he hit middle school.
"You started to really hear about him when was playing YMCA," said Lance McIlhenny, a former Scots quarterback who went onto run the Pony Express at SMU. "Then, when he stepped on the field as a sophomore and you see him throw it 70 yards, it was just like, 'My God, they were right.' "
The recruitment
Matthew Stafford got tapped in the second quarter.
He was 15. His team was playing in Texas Stadium. And he was needed.
Stafford threw for 325 yards and three touchdowns. After just three quarters of play, he was named the MVP of the Tom Landry Classic.
The next day, SMU offered him a scholarship. At the time, Stafford was less than a month into his sophomore year.
"We all knew," said Feldt, who also made his first varsity appearance that day. "But after that, we all really knew."
Word moved across the plains faster than a tumbleweed in a tornado: Stafford was for real. Here was a player who could do what former Scots Doak Walker and Bobby Layne had not. He was good enough to carry a team to a title in the state where high school football had long ago surpassed just being a religion and become a way of life.
As a sophomore, Stafford threw for 3,182 yards and 35 touchdowns against just five interceptions. Highland Park ended its season with a loss to Denton Ryan in the state semifinals.
"To have a player like that . . . he makes all the difference," Turner said. "I used to be a Southwest Conference official, so I've seen a lot of players. You saw him and you knew this one would be playing on Sundays."
First it would be Saturdays. And everybody who'd caught wind of Stafford wanted him. But Florida State had caught the first a whiff long ago.
For Matthew's 13th birthday, John Stafford sent his son to camp. He came back with a note signed by one of the counselors
"He told me they moved Matthew [then an eighth-grader] up to be with the sophomores," John Stafford said. "And even then, he was the only one in seven-on-seven drills that was able to get rid of the ball. That's 3.5 seconds. He was able to get rid of it every time in less than 3.5 seconds."
The note was signed by one of the Florida State assistant coaches. The Seminoles would be watching and waiting.
Bulldogs QB signee Stafford has led charmed football life
By CARTER STRICKLAND
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Published on: 12/18/05
PARK CITIES, Texas ? After four years, the stares aren't supposed to still be there.
The swath in the hallway is not supposed to be this wide.
The second looks are supposed to have stopped.
After four years, Matthew Stafford is supposed to be just another 17-year-old in the corridors of Texas' Highland Park High School. But each year, he has taught these people ? peers, principals, classmates, coaches, even town council members ? he is not.
"You just don't see someone like him everyday," said Blackie Holmes, the mayor of University Park, Texas. "Actually, it's rare to see someone like him."
Rarer still is that someone walks through life in sheer nonchalance. That is the aim of Stafford.
Almost reluctantly, Stafford is the "it" guy of Highland Park. Maybe even of Texas after the Scots won last week's Texas 4A title by a 59-0 score. Throw Georgia in there, as well, since Stafford's spring commitment to the Bulldogs made him the highest-profile recruit of the Mark Richt era.
But no matter how hard the quarterback tries to blend in, Stafford can't. His talent won't let him.
In the beginning
Matthew Stafford was ready before anybody was ready for him.
"I don't know what he was doing in there," said Margaret Stafford, remembering the pregnancy. "But there was a lot of banging around."
Seventeen years later, the answer is clear ? warming up that arm.
This was a child with a preternatural ability.
By 4, he had the spiral down.
By 5, the concept of pulling offensive linemen.
By the first grade?
"He was the one you wanted on your team," said Jake Feldt, a longtime friend.
And to think Margaret spent all those hours worrying.
"People kept telling me I had to work with his fine motor skills," she said. "But all he wanted to do was play with any ball he could gets his hands on.
"So every time he would pick up a ball, I would go over and say, 'Here, try some LEGOs. Just please play with these.' "
Little Matthew refused to listen. Margaret is still thankful for that.
So too are folks in University Park and Highland Park ? the Park Cities. It is these neighbor towns that feed Highland Park High. Surrounded by the concrete jungle of Dallas, the Park Cities exist as an enclave for the social elite of north Texas. Inside "The Bubble," as it's called, the average home sale in 2004 was $720,127, according to North Texas Real Estate Information Systems. More than a dozen houses went for more then $2 million. And it's not uncommon for the price per square foot to top $425.
Collectively, the towns have the power to buy whatever they want. But what they wanted most was what they first tasted in 1945 when a capacity crowd of 45,000 watched the Scots take their first state title at the Cotton Bowl. The hunger only grew with the second title in 1957. But in 48 years, this community has learned victory cannot be bought. It must be earned.
"We've waited for 48 years to bring the championship back here," said Winkie Turner, a member of the 1957 championship team, Highland Park's last. "This is the team that can get it done."
They've been saying that about this team, Stafford's team, since before he hit middle school.
"You started to really hear about him when was playing YMCA," said Lance McIlhenny, a former Scots quarterback who went onto run the Pony Express at SMU. "Then, when he stepped on the field as a sophomore and you see him throw it 70 yards, it was just like, 'My God, they were right.' "
The recruitment
Matthew Stafford got tapped in the second quarter.
He was 15. His team was playing in Texas Stadium. And he was needed.
Stafford threw for 325 yards and three touchdowns. After just three quarters of play, he was named the MVP of the Tom Landry Classic.
The next day, SMU offered him a scholarship. At the time, Stafford was less than a month into his sophomore year.
"We all knew," said Feldt, who also made his first varsity appearance that day. "But after that, we all really knew."
Word moved across the plains faster than a tumbleweed in a tornado: Stafford was for real. Here was a player who could do what former Scots Doak Walker and Bobby Layne had not. He was good enough to carry a team to a title in the state where high school football had long ago surpassed just being a religion and become a way of life.
As a sophomore, Stafford threw for 3,182 yards and 35 touchdowns against just five interceptions. Highland Park ended its season with a loss to Denton Ryan in the state semifinals.
"To have a player like that . . . he makes all the difference," Turner said. "I used to be a Southwest Conference official, so I've seen a lot of players. You saw him and you knew this one would be playing on Sundays."
First it would be Saturdays. And everybody who'd caught wind of Stafford wanted him. But Florida State had caught the first a whiff long ago.
For Matthew's 13th birthday, John Stafford sent his son to camp. He came back with a note signed by one of the counselors
"He told me they moved Matthew [then an eighth-grader] up to be with the sophomores," John Stafford said. "And even then, he was the only one in seven-on-seven drills that was able to get rid of the ball. That's 3.5 seconds. He was able to get rid of it every time in less than 3.5 seconds."
The note was signed by one of the Florida State assistant coaches. The Seminoles would be watching and waiting.
