WACO, Texas—It's minutes after the game of his life, and Jared Crick is hesitant.
His ribs hurt, he's tired and he just wants to see his family. But a man in a Cornhusker polo tells Crick that the media want him at the post-game press conference following Nebraska's 20-10 win against Baylor on Saturday.
"Do I have to?" Crick asks.
The media relations professional explains to him that he had broken or tied two school records during the game and that yes, he'd have to.
Crick sits down in front of the television cameras and refuses to take credit for his five sacks, 13 tackles and one fumble recovery. He fields the next question, this one about the family members who were in attendance for his breakout game.
"I kind of went out and played a little harder today," Crick said.
He was understated, as usual. He gets it from his parents.
What Crick didn't mention in his answer is that he knew every sack would send so much joy through the body of his cousin Haley that she'd almost jump right out of her wheelchair.
That every time he fought through a block, he was showing his grandfather that the advice he was able to speak through cancer-riddled lungs three years earlier had been taken to heart by his grandson.
What he didn't mention is that with five sacks, 13 tackles and one fumble recovery, Jared Crick gave 34 members of his family an early Christmas present they will never forget.
***
Jared Crick is in a car on his way back from cousin Samantha's graduation ceremony in Burnet, Texas, and he can't get the Nebraska fight song out of his head. That's probably because his cousin Haley won't stop singing it.
Two days earlier, Crick had received a call from Nebraska offensive coordinator Jay Norvell. Haley and Crick were walking on the field of Texas' Darrell K Royal-Texas Memorial Stadium during an unofficial campus visit when the coach offered Crick his dream scholarship.
He wanted to sound non-committal over the phone, but Haley kept nudging him with a wide smile on her face.
Now, Haley, who is two years older than Crick, is singing "There Is No Place Like Nebraska" while her dad, Dan Cornelius, is giving Crick grief about the offer he'd received from Kansas. It was an 18-hour car ride.
When Crick finally got home and made his decision, he didn't call for a press conference. He went over to Haley's house.
"There was a Nebraska T-shirt on my bed, and he said, ‘You know what Hayster? You get to wear this now. I'm a Blackshirt.' That's how he let us know," Haley said.
She said she and Crick grew up together and have always been close. Haley adopted the nickname "J-Rod" for her cousin when he was 2 years old and said they've been together ever since, never living more than two hours apart. She said she spent so much time with her cousin that the Crick residence became like a second home.
Haley can't bear to miss any of his games. She said she used to drive home from college in Lincoln to watch him play for Cozad High School.
There's a natural bond between them, because with Haley at 6-foot-3 and Crick at 6-6, they're the oddballs of the family.
"The outcasts," Haley joked.
"Someone needs to run a DNA test on those two," Grandpa Davidson said with a laugh.
Haley can remember lying down next to Crick, back when she didn't need the wheelchair, and noticing how she was almost as tall as him. That was before she got on a jet ski on the Fourth of July in 2001.
***
Jared Crick is running, because Grandpa D told him to. Grandpa D is walking, because the doctors told him to.
The two are at Cozad High School's football field during Crick's senior year, going about their biweekly routine.
"I just told him ‘When I was a kid, I'd run all the time and I had good bones, and that's what you're going to need when you get to going,'" said Davidson, a gray-haired man with round glasses and a firm handshake.
On this day, Crick called Grandpa Davidson after he noticed some free time on his schedule between football and school.
When Crick had finished running the same drills he'd run a hundred times before, the same ones he ran on the same field at football practices, he came over to join Grandpa D on the surrounding track. He'd called his grandfather the other day to deliver a simple message. When Davidson answered the phone, he heard: "Grandpa, I'm a Husker."
Grandpa D usually had advice to hand down during these walks, because wisdom and a way with words are a couple of Derold Davidson's strong suits, and this day was no different.
"When we were doing our walking and running, I told him, ‘You're a Husker now,'" Davidson said. "‘And you know all the little kids look up to Huskers.'"
The lesson that day was one of public service and responsibility. He told his grandson to set a good example for young fans, and to always give them his time. During Nebraska's pre-season Fan Day this year, Davidson watched his grandson with pride as he heeded this advice.
"They have to go drag him off the field," Davidson said. "Because the kids, they just come up and love him because he'll spend time with them and talk to them."
Crick never has been much of a talker though, not even at family events.
"But once in awhile, I'll get to telling stories about when I was back in the service and Jared, he just sits there and listens and takes it all in," Davidson said. "It's pretty fantastic, really."
***
Jared Crick is in the backfield, again. Minutes earlier, he was on his back. A crushing blind-sided block by a Baylor tight end had hurt Crick so badly, he told his family later that he thought his ribs had poked straight through to his organs. They didn't, of course, and now he was on top of the quarterback for the fifth time in one game. In his sophomore season as a Husker, his first as a starter, Crick had just done something no one – not even legends like Grant Wistrom, Mike Rucker or Jason Peter – had ever done. And the 34 were there to see it.




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