By BRANT JAMES
© St. Petersburg Times, published February 27, 2001
SPRING HILL -- Rick Hulett could have been selling a car, a horse or time shares in Vermont.
But he was hawking a future.
Ensconced at a small table in Springstead High's media center, he was surrounded by audio/visual equipment brought from Mount Dora High, where he coaches football. He also was surrounded by peers from a dozen other schools, all of whom were sitting at little tables like his, waiting for the shoppers to amble by.
Almost two weeks after national signing day ends the high-profile phase of college football recruiting season, the process continues as smaller colleges mine for sustenance and unsigned players look for a home.
With no Division II, III, NAIA or junior college teams in Florida, a lot of good players in smaller packages remain after the major programs exact their share.
Like hungry bears pawing at a stream for leftover salmon, recruiters from the nation's smaller schools converge on Florida each February. With limited budgets and even less staff, schools are in search of an economical way to see an array of prospects. Florida high school coaches, eager to send their players wherever possible, have obliged by creating recruiting fairs, virtual bazaars where players can be scrutinized and evaluated, and hopefully snapped up by colleges.
"If not for fairs like these, we wouldn't be able to come to Florida," said Bob Swank, recruiting coordinator for Division III Methodist (N.C.) College. "And that would be a shame for everybody."
Hulett already has clicked through the videotape a dozen times this morning, but gladly rewinds and begins again when the next recruiter introduces himself and sits down.
Hulett has just one prospect -- offensive lineman Joshua Williams -- and he keeps his laminated resume (with a full-color picture) taped to his cubicle. After attending fairs such as these around the state for nine years, Hulett has gotten good at the game, but he doesn't consider himself a salesman.
"This isn't like selling a car or a horse," he said. "I'm selling a kid's future. If he goes to school for four years and gets a better life ...
"I look at this as an opportunity for the kids. They don't realize there is opportunity and money out there."
Dan Davis has some money -- but not a lot of it.
As coach, lead recruiter and the only full-time staff member of tiny McPherson (Kan.) College's team, he's trying to restock a losing NAIA program by hitting eight fairs in Florida.
He's looking a little haggard this day, perhaps feeling the strain of living out of a suitcase, a rental car and motels the past several weeks -- all the while knowing he has only $5,000 for an entire recruiting budget.
For McPherson's money, Florida is the place to be.
"There's such a lack of small colleges in Florida," he said. "We noticed a lot of other schools from the midwest coming here, so we figured (Florida recruits) were willing to go to Wisconsin or Illinois, why not Kansas?"
The problem is, they're not always willing.
A maddening variable for coaches -- as important as a 2.5 grade point average or an 800 SAT score -- is a player's willingness to leave Florida. Many are not. Many say they are, and return after a year.
"There's something about Florida kids and Florida," Hernando coach Bill Browning said.
That was part of the reason Jabbar Graham attended the second day of the fair, when more than 100 seniors went through speed, strength and agility drills for scouts. The Dunedin running back has an offer from Division III South Dakota State, but he was shopping for something closer.
"It's kind of cold up there," he said. "And I'd like to stay a little closer to home."
Central coach Steve Crognale, who helped Springstead coach Bill Vonada run drills the second day, can empathize. After graduating from Springstead in the mid-1980s, he participated in a similar combine and was signed by Saint Mary of the Plains College in Dodge City, Kan.
"That was a shock," he said. "I went from smelling warm gulf breezes to the meat packing plant."
Division II and III schools cannot offer athletic scholarships, so transcripts are perused before video by coaches such as Methodist recruiter Dwayne Pelham.
"The grades are important," said Pelham, whose team had 35 Florida players last season. "If there's a financial need and they can get a 2.5, we can get them every dime possible. But without the grades, a family would never afford it."
Anthony Jones meant business.
As the rest of the 30 or so running backs in attendance on Day 2 lingered in a group in a corner of the Springstead track, Jones began his frenetic stretching. Despite the cool early morning breeze, he quickly tugged off his Newberry High T-shirt. Scouts began ogling pectoral muscles and scrawling in notebooks.
He at least looked like what Pelham said recruiters dream of: "The ones who slipped through."
The running backs began struggling to master the electronic timer that would chart their ability in the 40-yard dash. Jones, oblivious and behind the crowd, jumped up and down, piston-pumping his thighs into his chest in midair.
Jones looked like a kid in hurry, and for a reason.
Recruiting letters had at one time poured into his mailbox. He had made a visit to Auburn as a junior. Florida, Alabama, Central Florida and Georgia Southern had been in contact last fall.
The future was perhaps coming into focus after he amassed 715 yards and 12 touchdowns on 69 carries through his first seven games.
But in that seventh game he suffered a displacement fracture in his right hand, which required surgery and the implanting of two pins. He missed the rest of the season.
"That cost me," Jones said. "The big colleges stopped writing. That's why I'm so determined today, making up for lost time."
Newberry coach Dave Doner passes out business cards to each scout with whom he speaks. He's almost out of cards. Near the end of the second day of the fair, he seemingly still has boundless enthusiasm about the star of the three prospects he brought.
"Could he have played D-I? Sure he could have," he said of Jones. "I'm biased, but that's a no-brainer."
Jones blazes through the bench press and agility stations, then returns punts and paces through position drills. He, like several other players, has a stack of information sheets to fill out for the recruiters.
At the other end of the field, linemen run through basic drills. Among them is Hernando's Sam Forrester, a player with special pressure on him during the combine. Forrester has no stats to show. He's a center, anonymous, which makes his workouts in front of scouts more important.
"This is really good," he said. "It gives all the small people a chance."
Florida's reputation as a blue vein of football talent attracts scouts. Everyone knows that, including men like Shaun McElderry.
Dissatisfied with the prospects for his son, Justin, being noticed by scouts back in Dothan, Ala., he packed the tall, thick wide receiver into the family car and drove five hours south.
After attending one combine at Lincoln High in Tallahassee, McElderry continued on, in essence following the fishing fleet to Springstead.
"It was time I took matters into my own hands," said Shaun McElderry, watching as a scout from Chowan (N.C.) College approached his son. "We don't have anything like this in Alabama. And there's no information available about these."
"We have a lot of JUCO programs there and it seems like the schools in Alabama want to keep all the kids within Alabama. What they don't realize is not all children want to stay in Alabama."
Justin McElderry might not have to, as he had three serious nibbles.
After two days of anticipation, the finish of the combine is anticlimactic. No one is offered a scholarship on the spot; parting exchanges are handshakes and promises of a phone call.
With several fairs scheduled this month, there is no guarantee the best this day will measure up to those at similar fairs in Lake Wales or Brandon. For most, they'll get to say one day over a beer gut that they tried out for college scouts.
"There's no need to worry about it now," Graham said.
"The way I see it, the best are going to get their (scholarships) anyway."
With his gear stowed and a fist full of multicolored query sheets in hand, Jones takes a final look at the field, as if to offer a last chance for someone to rush up and seal his future.
"The pressure's off a little bit now," he said in his deep Florida drawl.
"Now I wait and see."