It's not the size of the dog in the fight ...

More and more, area players are teaching skeptics not to overlook those underfoot.

By VINCENT THOMAS
Published November 7, 2005

	[Times photo: Keri Wiginton]
	Riverview's Jean Santiago, right, may only be 5-5, 160, but he can bench 300 pounds.

Anthony Edwards sits at his desk in Ms. Goodman's Creative Writing class. Ryan Sutton is next to him. Side by side, the two Riverview football players are a visual dichotomy.

Sutton's a 6-foot-4 lineman, his limbs spilling out over his desk. He's sporting size 16 sneakers that look as if Edwards, a 5-6 cornerback, could nap in them.

Today's assignment: Create a god or goddess and write a myth about it. Edwards' god is more like a superhero.

His name is El Dio Negro - a hulking dynamo. Edwards created a 6-foot, muscular god with lots of tattoos. Anthony is short and lean with no tattoos.

Why didn't Edwards create some super-bad, no-nonsense, short-and-slim dude to reign supreme over all that is good and squash enemies who dare challenge his extreme toughness?

"People think short people aren't as good as tall people," he said. "I ain't never seen a small superhero."

As Mighty Mouse cringes, it's a good time to point out there are dozens of short guys playing in the Tampa Bay area. Some stay on the bench, others see spot duty, but more than a few buck the odds and excel. But there are plenty of can'ts for short people, including too-small-for-sports.

Especially football.

The naysayers might have a tough time watching football here. They shouldn't watch St. Petersburg Catholic's Jock Sanders. Check his numbers: 1,350 yards and 12 rushing touchdowns; 17 catches, two for scores; two kickoffs returned for touchdowns - and don't forget to add 591 yards passing and six touchdowns filling in for SPC's injured quarterback. Sanders is 5-7.

If the nonbelievers came to, say, Spring Hill, they'd see Springstead's Mike King-Seth Metz tandem rip through holes for touchdowns. King is 5-6, Metz 5-7 ("I'm 5-8 on a good day."). The duo has gained 1,650 yards. Metz even leads the Eagles in tackles. Imagine that: a 5-7 run-stopper.

Ronnie Harris (5-6, 165) carried the ball 23 times for 319 yards in Clearwater Central Catholic's 27-0 victory over Berkeley Prep.

A.J. Lenney has eight sacks for Class 3A District 8 champ Hudson. He's 5-4 and only 140 pounds.

Marcelino Roman is a 5-7, 290-pound nose tackle. Teammate Antwain "Smitty" Powers is 5-6, though he'll insist he's 5-7. Either way, he's near the top of the Hillsborough rushing leaders with more than 1,000 yards for Riverview.

Powers has been playing since he was 7. It's happened to him before - people sizing him up and underestimating him before he's touched the ball.

"Oh, I love that," Powers said. "They see me and because I'm small they think they don't have to worry about me.

"But when I get the ball ... then they know what time it is."

Holding their own

There's no crying in baseball and no coddling in football.

Coaches make that clear by words and deeds. Teams don't take extra precautions for short players. Small guys don't get extra pads and trainers don't rush on the field any faster for a 5-6, 150-pound player than they do a 6-3, 300-pounder.

Short guys appreciate the no-favors approach. Across the board, they said they hate when people coddle them. Step on the field and some brute is coming at you, growling like a rabid animal, looking to take your head off. Short guys revel in the opportunity to prove themselves. Even mothers tend to let their sons play, usually after some initial concern.

Powers' mother, Josette, recalls one incident in Pop Warner when Powers was slow getting up and she hopped the fence on a mission to protect and nurture. Powers wasn't pleased.

"He was like, "Mom, don't ever do that again! You embarrassed me."'

She hasn't hopped a fence since, though she still urges him to use his speed and "run the other way when he sees one of those big guys coming." But she knows there are few things he dislikes more than running away. And there is definitely no running out of bounds.

"I got too much heart," he said.

Like Josette, Lenney's mother, Anne, said she was nervous when Lenney made varsity. That didn't mean she tried to talk him out of it.

"Are you kidding me? There'd be no stopping A.J. The kid swears he's 6 feet."

Making up for it

Lenney, a defensive lineman, is sure he's the smallest player in Pasco County. The only time he remembers seeing someone shorter was as a spectator at a Nature Coast-Gulf game. Nature Coast linebacker Mike Dorsey was scampering around the field, sticking his nose in big guys' business, just like Lenney does.

"Man, that kid's tiny," Lenney said. Actually, Dorsey is listed at 5-5 - an inch taller than Lenney - but don't tell him that. Then again, don't tell Dorsey that his coach chuckled a bit and revealed that Dorsey might be closer to 5-3.

At that size, they're not going to truck through guys 6 inches taller and 100 pounds heavier, so they compensate in other areas.

Lenney does it with almost ceaseless energy. A fan at a Hudson game will see this little guy lining up a couple of feet outside the line and at the snap, he'll start zipping everywhere, playing to the whistle and sometimes a little beyond.

"That kid's got a motor that just doesn't stop," Hudson assistant coach Tim White said. White calls Lenney "squirmy" and smirks at the notion of ever witnessing a smaller defensive end.

"Yeah, maybe in Little League."

White coaches a defense adopted from the Chicago Bears' Super Bowl team. Lenney's 1985 Chicago Bear counterpart? 6-5, 265-pound Richard Dent.

"If A.J. was 6-2, 210," Hudson coach Mark Nash imagined, "he'd probably be playing on Sundays eventually."

Riverview's Jean Santiago is 5-5, 160. Santi, as teammates and coaches call him, can bench press 300 pounds. You can see it in his chest. He's built like a miniature Vin Diesel.

Powers, who runs the 40 in 4.4 seconds, is the fastest guy on the team. To him, it's simple.

"How are they going to hit me? They can't catch me."

But Powers also can use his size to maneuver in close quarters.

On a two-point conversion attempt against Newsome, quarterback David Hike pitched the ball to Powers, who sprinted right looking to turn the corner. Two defenders were between him and daylight. So - on a dime - he cut back to his left, kicking up dirt as his cleats dug into the turf. His body was nearly parallel to the ground.

The Newsome defenders weren't that nimble. They were big guys - too much inertia. Two points, Riverview.

Sometimes, though, it doesn't end that way.

"It's football," Powers said. "So you're going to get hit."

When he's staring down defenders, Powers says he's got a little somethin' for them.

"Sometimes, if I know I'm going to get hit, I'll try to punish them first," he said.

Don't laugh, linebackers.

"I'll come up and fake like I'm about to do something slick with my feet and then, BAM! Run 'em slap over."

Words to live by

Don't mistake their confidence as delusions. Everyday things remind them of their statures, like when Lenney takes his usual lunch seat next to 6-1, 300-pound Allen Wynn. At Riverview practices, Powers' calf muscles nearly burst out of his skin as he gets on his tiptoes to reach the Gatorade cooler perched about 1 foot over his head. And, although you won't see these guys getting shoved in lockers or pushed out of the lunch line, they'll get the periodic "Pee-Wee" jibe or the "Hey, this isn't JV" barbs.

A common theme with these players is that they won't let people dictate what they're capable of. Some use slogans to articulate how they handle their bodies and what they can and cannot do.

Santiago says, "No dream is too big and no dreamer is too small."

"Life is like a garden, so dig it." That's Lenney's.

Basically, they're not sweating the small stuff.

--Times researcher Angie Holan contributed to this report.

[Last modified November 7, 2005, 01:10:19]