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Still brash but perhaps maturing, 49ers receiver gets Gruden's vote as No. 1.
By MARC TOPKIN, Times Staff Writer
© St. Petersburg Times, published January 10, 2003
SANTA CLARA, Calif. -- Say what you want about Terrell Owens. Call him rude, arrogant, selfish, disrespectful, a showboat, a punk. Pfft, that's just the polite stuff. He has heard it before and -- to let you in on his secret -- he really doesn't care anyway.
Pull the kind of stuff he has -- celebrating on the Cowboys' sacred star at Texas Stadium, yanking a Sharpie marker from his sock to sign the ball after a touchdown, grabbing a cheerleader's pompoms and jumping in the dance line, posing like Charles Atlas, dancing like a fool -- not to mention the occasional blasting of his coach, teammates, critics, and a good portion of the rest of the world -- and you're going to catch a lot of grief.
But know this too about Owens -- he's going to catch a lot of passes.
When he prances onto the field Sunday, Owens will be not only the top receiver at RJS (sorry, Keyshawn), but the best in the NFL. At least that's the opinion of one man in the business of knowing, spunky fella named Jon Gruden.
"He's as good a receiver as I have seen," Gruden said. "He's Shaquille O'Neal out there. He's the biggest guy I've ever seen and he runs like a rocket is attached to him. He is an explosive human being and a clutch playmaker. Such an acrobatic football player. A great competitor. He's a fabulous player."
Owens -- like most in his class -- knows he's good, and he has been talking about himself for years as the best receiver in the game. Asked recently by a national magazine to describe himself in one word, he said, "Confident." Asked for another, he added, "Very."
Lately, Owens, 29, isn't saying much of anything publicly, gliding through the 49ers practice facility, a wool Michael Jordan hat pulled low on his head, declining this interview request as he has all but the select ones that provide a proper forum, such as an ESPN The Magazine cover.
"I ain't got nothin' to say," he says, bouncing down a hall. Not even about matching up with buddy Keyshawn Johnson this week? "Nothing at all."
There's a certain irony to Owens refusing to talk to the media because he seemingly has plenty to say. A loner much of his youth -- the product, he has explained, of being raised by an often drunk grandmother who refused to let him watch television or leave the front yard -- he has taken a me-first approach to football and a heck-with-you approach to life that doesn't go over well in three out of four U.S. households.
"They think he's a thug, they think he's a drug dealer, they think he's a murderer, but he ain't though. That's the media -- they make him out to be a bad guy," said running back Kevan Barlow, his closest friend on the team. "He can be a jerk sometimes. He can do some annoying things. But he's a good person."
49ers people talk about how Owens has matured this season, that he'll actually speak to teammates (!) and occasionally mix socially. Teammates who didn't used to like him, and a coach who was forced to make an offseason peacemaking visit to Owens' Atlanta home, now speak glowingly about him -- though seemingly with fingers crossed and knuckles rapping on wood.
Sunday, when the 49ers were on the verge of being embarrassed by the Giants, it was Owens (of all people) who spoke up at halftime, delivering an inspirational "pretenders or contenders" speech that preceded the second-greatest comeback in NFL postseason history. Later in the same game, the same player who seemed to be infringing on Keyshawn's copyrights to Just Give Me the Damn Ball! actually suggested to quarterback Jeff Garcia that he should look more to the other receivers.
"In a lot of ways he's grown this year," said coach Steve Mariucci, with whom Owens didn't speak for more than a year. "From talking to the team at halftime to being on the dirty dozen (group of veteran leaders) to knowing what he's going to face each week and that there's going to be some droughts, a quarter when he's simply not going to get a catch, understanding what they're trying to do and what we can do about it.
"He's grown in a lot of ways. And he's becoming a better football player. He's improving his skills, he's becoming a better route runner, better with his hands, better after the catch."
The 11th receiver taken in the 1996 draft (behind stars like Keyshawn and Marvin Harrison and decent players liked Amani Toomer, Eric Moulds and Terry Glenn), Owens has turned out to be the best, a blend of remarkable athleticism (6 feet 3, 226 well-sculpted pounds) and expanding knowledge and know-how. He caught 97 passes (13 touchdowns) in 2000, 93 (16 touchdowns) last season, and a career-high 100 (13 touchdowns) this season, despite missing two games with injury. His 60 touchdown receptions since 1998 match Randy Moss for most in the game. Against the Giants, he had nine receptions for 177 yards, scoring twice.
That Owens doesn't get the accolades or adulation is the result of some significant differences of opinion between him and the rest of the world. What behavior others find controversial, he thinks is creative. What some deem outlandish, he brands entertaining. There is no such debate about his ability.
"You can't take anything away from his talent," tackle Derrick Deese said. "You might not like what he does on the field. You might not like what he does off the field. But once you look at what he's doing in the game itself as far as plays and all that, you have to respect that. I don't care what anyone says."
The Bucs have a pretty good idea of what they're in for.
"He's my favorite," Warren Sapp said. "He's the man. C'mon, baby. He's big, he's show, he's fast, catches the ball, talks more trash than a little bitty. And you still can't stop him.
"If you don't want the man to celebrate, keep him out of the end zone."
"Otherwise," Johnson said, "he's going to grab our pompoms. He's going to pull out a Sharpie on us."
-- Staff writer Rick Stroud contributed to this report.