Sons whose dads played in the league are becoming all the rage.
By ROGER MILLS
Published October 17, 2003
TAMPA - In a league where scouting secrets are as closely guarded as classified government documents, there appears to be one universal tip: The sons of NFL players are pretty good gambles.
"I would not say that they are givens, but the one thing to look at is they might lessen your fear of a bust because of what they are going to put into it, because of that (lineage)," said Bucs general manager Rich McKay, whose father, John McKay, was the team's first coach. "Their dads are probably going to stay on them, going to help motivate them, keep them mentally prepared for the game. It's not going to make you (draft) a player, but it's going to lessen your fear."
Entering the seventh week of the season, it is believed the NFL has more sons of former players on rosters than ever.
Some already are household names. Colts quarterback Peyton Manning is the son of former Saints quarterback Archie Manning. Miami quarterback Brian Griese's father, Bob, helped lead the Dolphins to Super Bowl titles after the 1972 and '73 seasons. Raiders safety Anthony Dorsett is the son of former Cowboys running back and Hall of Famer Tony Dorsett.
Others aren't that well known. Ravens cornerback Chris McAlister, Patriots defensive tackle Dan Klecko, 49ers defensive end Andre Carter, Texans receiver Jabar Gaffney, Chargers cornerback Kevin House Jr. and Bills defensive tackle Sam Adams Jr., all are sons of former players.
In the college ranks, at least four more are on their way. Hurricanes tight end Kellen Winslow Jr. (former Chargers tight end Kellen Winslow), West Virginia running back Quincy Wilson (former Bears linebacker Otis Wilson), Tennessee tackle Anthony Munoz Jr. (former Bengals left tackle Anthony Munoz) and Mississippi quarterback Eli Manning (former Saints quarterback Archie Manning) likely will be high draft picks.
The Bucs are one of several teams that have two or more: Starting strongside linebacker Ryan Nece is the son of Hall of Fame safety Ronnie Lott, and rookie quarterback Chris Simms is the son of former quarterback Phil Simms, who led the Giants to a Super Bowl title.
Nece, 24, is starting on one of the best defenses in the league after virtually sitting out his rookie season because of a knee injury. Simms, who is not expected to play this season, impressed the Bucs in training camp with his poise and ability and may be the team's quarterback of the future.
"What these athletes have is the opportunity to see the game differently than others," McKay said. "They are exposed to the game in a way that most others are not. Now, they still have to take advantage of the situation and perform on Saturday and Sunday, but they do appear to have some advantages."
Archie Manning believes the smooth transition to the pro level is as much a product of the new generation as it is something passed on from home.
"I think the generation overall is not as awed by the NFL," Manning said. "The high school generation is not as awed by college football, either. Look it up. I was the guy who said freshmen can't play. I didn't think I could because it was such a jump from high school."
Obviously, not all the sons of former players make it to the NFL. But there is evidence, such as Nece's ascension on the depth chart, that suggests those who do make it get there smoother and quicker. They appear ready to handle many aspects of the game.
"The politics of the game are really something you have to take the time to understand on your own or sit back and listen to someone who knows about them because there's definitely politics in the game," Anthony Dorsett said.
Why they succeed? Consider four contributing factors: genetics, desire/discipline, dealing with high expectations and support.
Genetics
While Nece is not yet the force his father was for the 49ers from 1981-90, the second-year linebacker does pack a wallop. At 6 feet 4, 225 pounds, Nece beat out free-agent acquisition Dwayne Rudd, whom the Bucs signed in the offseason.
"The blood lines are definitely there, contributing to an athlete's ability," Nece said. "Now, there is a mother involved, too, but the fathers obviously have a biological connection. It increases the odds, certainly."
Although Bucs coach Jon Gruden promptly points out that Chris Simms, a tall lefty from New Jersey, is nothing like his father, a right-hander from Kentucky, their physical resemblance is uncanny.
"Of course, genetics plays a roll," Chris Simms said. "I'm 6-5, 220 pounds and I got that from my dad. I also got from my dad the ability to throw a ball and throw it far. I worked at it for a long time, but I know I was given a gift to be able to throw like that."
But while natural talent is essential, it is only part of the story.
"The essence of playing at a pro level takes more than genetics," said Lott, who won four Super Bowls with the 49ers. "You have to have the aptitude to play, to make good decisions, to be mentally tough, to understand the peaks and valleys of playing professional sports.
"I'm not sure any of that is genetic. That's something you have to learn and to want."
Desire and discipline
One prevailing feeling is the sons of former players develop an appreciation for the game before others. "If I had to say one thing it is that we all know the game is fun. That's the first thing that opened my eyes," Chris Simms said. "I saw very young that it was more than just tackling and throwing and running and catching. I saw the chess match going on and it caught me at an early age. I knew it was a great sport."
Lott said discipline - in part through the examples of their fathers - helps the sons understand the physical sacrifices that come with trying to play at a high level.
"They have been acclimated to the fiber of the locker room," Lott said. "They understand the nuances of the training table, understand that a rookie is a rookie and has to earn respect, earn his due."
Added Nece: "We are exposed constantly to teaching and coaching, and it could be a simple thing like how you dress, how you carry yourself, the discipline that it takes to train, to sacrifice, to do the things necessary to get to a high level."
Anthony Dorsett said the early exposure to that discipline creates a deep respect.
"(My father taught me) the mental aspect of the game," Dorsett said. "The biggest thing (I got) was respect for the game. Do the right thing by the game. I mean, treat your body right, watch the film and do everything you have to do to become a better football player. He taught me what you put into it is what you get out of it."
High expectations
Gruden, himself the son of a coach, said while there is no definite promise that a player's son will play, those who do usually are able to handle the expectations.
"They know what people will expect and that stands for something," Gruden said.
Simms said being the son of a Super Bowl-winning quarterback was an everyday reality that soon became hardly noticeable.
"I always looked at (expectations) as a good thing, and it made me better as a player, overall," he said. "When I was young I knew all eyes were on me. But I took it as I'm going to show these folks out here that the Simms boys can get after it, and we did. It was my way to have pride in the family name."
While playing at UCLA, arch-rival to his father's USC, Nece spent time striving to make a name for himself and to run from the shadow of his father's great career. That pursuit helped Nece handle whatever burdensome expectations were thrown on him when he became a pro.
"It's pretty simple: those kids have had a chance to see those expectations and had a chance to be around those athletes more so than (other players)," Lott said. "Our kids, this generation in general, is probably around more and saw more. With ESPN, other networks, there's a way of identifying right away what you want to be when you grow up. Whereas, if my dad was playing I wouldn't have been able to see him on Sunday because the game wasn't being shown in my area."
Support system
McKay said the most critical factor is the sons of former players are constantly being coached from home. They understand hierarchy and how to take orders. Their support system is not only relentless but reliable.
"They remain parents and the sons listen because of his authority figure," McKay said. "Part of that comes from developing a fear factor of your dad, he intimidated you a bit and when he said jump, you wondered how high."
Nece made the Bucs as a undrafted rookie free agent last year and said Lott's influence played a big role.
"We talked about what it was going to take for me to make the team," Nece said. "He told me about how hard it will be and he assured me that if I did the things he told me to do that I would have a great chance to make the team. For me to have my dad give me that confidence and show confidence in my abilities, that was a big thing."
Simms said the near-daily conversations between him and his father remind him of the importance of being able to take orders and learn from constructive criticism.
"It's still like that for me now and I'm 23 years old," Simms said. "My dad still talks to me like a coach, still coaches me on how to handle myself in certain situations (on and off the field). There's really a lot of good that has come out of that. I learned at an early age from my dad that you have to be able to handle people telling you things, whether you like it or not."
