University of North Carolina Athletics
Extra Points: The Resolve of Randy Jordan
March 29, 2012 | Football, Featured Writers, Lee Pace
March 29, 2012
The following story appeared in the April 1991 issue of Lee Pace's "Extra Points" newsletter. It is reprinted here on the occasion of Randy Jordan's return to Chapel Hill to join Larry Fedora's staff as running backs coach.
It was early the morning of Wednesday, March 27, when the defensive staff of the Tar Heels decided their unit had just executed a pretty decent play. Running on the television screen above them was the tape of the previous afternoon's live-contact drill. Quarterback Chuckie Burnette tossed the football to tailback Randy Jordan, who slanted through an opening on the right side of the offensive line.
"We had people in position," says defensive coordinator Carl Torbush. "But you don't realize the foot speed Randy has until he's out there. Natrone Means is fast with a 4.5 in the 4.0. Randy runs a 4.25 and that's two-tenths of a second faster than fast."
The result? A touchdown run by Jordan that could have gone 99 yards in a real game. On the field that afternoon, one bystander mimicked the Roadrunner. "Beep beep," he squeaked. Team physician Joe DeWalt shook his head and said, "He's like a man among boys." Players hooted and hollered. The defensive coaches scratched their heads. The offensive coaches grinned.
"His feet are faster than his eyes," says offensive line coach Whitney Jordan. "He's the fastest man I've ever seen on a football field. I've never seen anything like him. If we've got him back, we'll have two of the finest running backs anybody's got."
And Randy Jordan remembered what it was like to have success on the football field.
"If I break away on a long run and I get to the 50, you can start playing the fight song, `cause it's over," says Jordan. "That's not being cocky. I just have faith in my speed."
***
Few Tar Heel football fans know just how fast Randy Jordan really is. They've heard he can run the 40-yard dash in 4.3 seconds or better. They've just never seen him do it. He's the most famous tailback in Tar Heel history who's gained only 261 yards.
He didn't get to show his speed during the fall of 1988 because Proposition 48 forced him to the sidelines and study hall for a year. He didn't get to show it in 1989 because, as quick as he might be between A and B, he hadn't learned how to get there carrying a football, he didn't have much blocking and what blocking he did get he'd usually overrun. And he didn't get to show it last fall because of a freak injury that permanently disabled one shoulder muscle.
Problems, problems. There's always a problem for Randy Jordan, and this warm spring evening in Chapel Hill is no exception.
"It's like all my teachers have a vendetta against me," he says, walking across the Rams Head parking lot to his room in Avery Dormitory. "I have a biology test Monday. I have a speech presentation Wednesday. I have a paper due after that.
"Shoooo! It can be tough sometimes."
And yet in the same breath:
"I told my aunt whenever I finish school, what I'd really like to do is get a place of my own and come back to Chapel Hill and stay. I love this place so much it's ridiculous. When I first got here I wanted to go home all the time. Now sometimes my aunt has to come get me."
That's Randy Jordan. No matter the obstacles the University or the NCAA or Lady Luck or the Lord himself place in Jordan's path, he finds a way around them.
"I'm only 20, but sometimes I feel like I'm 50 I've been through so much," Jordan says.
"I don't think anything could be thrown his way in life now that he can't handle," says Darrell Moody, Carolina's running backs coach and one of the rocks of support Jordan's leaned on the last three years. "In all the years I've been coaching, he's probably been through more adversity than any kid I've been around."
Jordan has been tested from the instant he entered this universe in the tiny town of Manson in rural Warren County in northeastern North Carolina. His 20-year-old mother, Lucy, was turned away from one hospital when she went into labor because it didn't have her records. Lucy's older sister, Albertha, delivered the baby boy before the rescue squad could even arrive at the Jordan home.
He hardly knows his father; Leon Jordan left the home over a decade ago. Lucy struggled to make ends meet with her job at a Vance County sock factory; there were precious few extras for Randy, sister Leslie and half-brother Raymond. Warren County High School had no frills: no track and no football field. Jordan would wait until all the teachers left late in the day so the parking lot would clear out and give him room to sprint.
Then in his junior year in high school, when Jordan was developing a reputation as a budding football and track star, Lucy Jordan suffered a stroke. She died at the age of 34. Randy, Leslie and Raymond moved in with various relatives. Randy spent time with both Albertha and Jonathan Valentine and another aunt; he became particularly close to John Hudgins, the assistant principal and athletic trainer at Warren County High. Today Jordan and Hudgins affectionately call each other "Pop" and "Son."
By that time Jordan recognized that a college scholarship could be his ticket to the better opportunity none of his family had ever had. He had drive and ambition and common sense; but he didn't have the background to handle the Scholastic Aptitude Test. He scored 690 and fell into Proposition 48 boundaries. He could attend an NCAA member institution, but he couldn't play or practice as a freshman and he would lose a year's eligibility.
"We weren't dirt poor, we made it, but we weren't in the higher level either," Jordan says. "I only had one parent, and she had to work hard. Academics weren't really stressed. I didn't realize until later that my talent could be used toward academic purposes, that it could help me go to a major university and earn a degree and get a better-paying job. I only realized that at the end of my sophomore year. By then the damage was done. I was trying to catch up for all that lost time."
Jordan had long been a Carolina football fan and attended the Tar Heel summer camp in 1987. He also knew a little history, that a man named Bill Dooley was taking Tar Heels to bowl games by the time Jordan was born. The Tar Heels, under former Coach Dick Crum, were interested in Jordan, but Dooley, now the coach at Wake Forest, was also. Dooley skillfully used Carolina's down-time in recruiting in 1987-88 (when Mack Brown was being hired, moving in and waiting for the holidays and school-closing snow to subside) to ingratiate himself with Jordan.
"I've followed Carolina football since I was little," Jordan says. "I've loved all the tailbacks, Ethan Horton, Tyrone Anthony, Derrick Fenner, those guys. I wanted to come here from the beginning, to wear Carolina blue. But I'm the kind of person who likes to think things through, to be sure, so I decided to visit Wake Forest. It's a great school, and coach Dooley is one in a million."
The speech major lowers his chin and drops into Dooley's deep, resonant drawl that Carolina fans knew so well from 1967-77:
"Randy, I was the one who started all that tailback tradition. You need to come play for me."
Jordan laughs. "But Carolina was the school for me all along. I was worried when there was a coaching change. I didn't know if the new coach would be interested. But Coach Moody called and said they were interested. I said, `Shoooo, that's a relief.'"
Brown, Moody and former recruiting coordinator Joe Robinson thoroughly checked Jordan out, with friends, family, school officials and community leaders. They went to the admissions committee loaded for bear.
"Randy does the things you're supposed to do," Moody says. "You don't have to worry about Randy going to class. You don't have to worry about him on Friday or Saturday nights getting into trouble. Randy's a very sincere person who knew what he was coming to Carolina for: to get an education."
Jordan was good enough his senior year that ESPN would feature him on "Scholastic Sports America." But the SAT score gave Jordan a "Prop 48" label that he brought to Chapel Hill the summer of 1988 just as Hester Prinn had her scarlet letter "A."
"You look at Randy and there's a hundred factors in his lack of achievement in his board scores," says Brian Davis, the football team's academic counselor. "The family didn't have a lot of money. The school system didn't have a lot of money. He's 15 years old and his mother dies. He's going door to door at one point. People don't understand how much effect that can have on a young person's mind. His lack of a good score on the SAT was by no means an indication of the work he was capable of doing. He got to the SAT and was having to answer questions with words he'd never heard before.
"Then he got to school that first semester and didn't fit in any social group. He couldn't practice, couldn't lift weights, he couldn't do anything except academics. At the same time, he was living in the dorm, where all the other football kids know he's a football player. `That's Randy Jordan: Randy Jordan who couldn't make 700.'"
Randy Jordan who could, however, do his classwork. He attended a summer "bridge" program before entering school in August and was named the session's top student. He exceeded the original expectations of Davis and his boss, John Blanchard.
"Our whole deal is that we don't want him to depend on us for four years," Davis says. "He won't have us all his life, why should he depend on us to get him through school? He got his academic house in order and now only comes to see us when he needs to. We don't worry about him.
"So many times students get to college the first time and have no idea what's expected of them. They start a history class on September 1 and don't have a test until October 15. Almost every college student puts off history until right before the test. It was apparent from the beginning Randy was studying in a gradual process and doing it in a manageable way. We saw that happen and knew he would do well."
It still wasn't easy. Jordan felt, at times, like an outcast. It was difficult at meal time hearing other players talk about football. Sometimes he avoided eating at the same time. "Every day seemed like an eternity," he says. "Sometimes I sneaked over and watched practice from a distance. It hurt."
Of course, he survived the year and finally suited up for the 1989 season. But playing football again had its own set of difficulties. Jordan had missed a full year of football and the Tar Heels were looking to rebuild an offensive line hit hard by graduation. There was an oft-injured quarterback attempting a comeback (Jon Hall), a raw freshman quarterback (Chuckie Burnette) and no proven talent at tailback (Kennard Martin was no longer on the team). Jordan's inexperience, plus all these other factors, contributed to a second-straight 1-10 season and only 261 yards rushing for Jordan on 67 carries. Jordan knew only one gear: overdrive. There was one highlight, though: a five-yard run in the season opener against V.M.I. for a touchdown.
"That year was frustrating," he says. "I was running with my feet and not my eyes. Coach Moody is always saying, `Randy, slow down.' Sometimes I get so I just want to get the ball and run. I'm better now at saying, `There's my blocker, slow down a gear, let him make the block.' Then I read the block and go into the next gear."
Jordan improved significantly the latter half of spring practice in 1990 and carried 15 times for 120 yards in the Blue-White game. He and Eric Blount figured to be a respectable one-two tandem the coming fall. Both had a year's experience and plenty of speed. The more they could do, the more chance there'd be to red-shirt highly regarded neophytes such as Natrone Means, Malcolm Marshall and Michael Watkins.
 Randy Jordan was a speedy tailback for the Tar Heels in the early 1990s.  |
|
"We felt like he came out of spring ball as our best back," Moody says. "He gained a lot of confidence the last 10 days. He was getting a feel for the game. He stayed here all summer, got strong, was in great condition."
Then on the first day of contact last August, Tar Heel defensive players were doing a one-on-one drill against the backs. The freshman Means lined up a couple of yards from the goal against sophomore linebacker Tommy Thigpen, put a nice move on Thigpen and squirted between the two bounding cones for a score. A few veterans sniggered at Thigpen for letting a freshman waste him. Thigpen got back in line and squared off against Jordan.
"I was teed off," Thigpen remembers.
"He was extremely mad," says Jordan.
Thigpen's helmet hit Jordan underneath his shoulder pad on the right side, injuring a nerve in the shoulder. At first, the doctors didn't know how long he might be out. Days dragged into weeks. By mid-season, Jordan still couldn't play and a decision was made to red-shirt him.
Three years at Carolina, three setbacks.
"It's remarkable how well he's handled everything," says Dr. DeWalt. "He could be bitter about this business with his shoulder, but he's not. Something good needs to happen to this young man. Life just hasn't been very kind to him. But he always lands on both of his feet. He's an awesome talent, but he's a better person than he is a talent. "
The nerve is lost forever and with it, the use of the deltoid muscle. His right shoulder looks lower and appears flatter than the left. But he's spent countless hours in the weight room strengthening surrounding muscles. Jordan will never hit an overhand smash on the tennis court or throw an overhand curve ball. But he can still carry a football.
"And his legs work fine," DeWalt deadpans.
Through it all, Randy Jordan has never whined. You rarely see him around Kenan Field House without his trademark smile. The support of his coaches, teammates, friends and family--and most of all, his strong religious faith--have given him the strength to keep going.
"Randy is already a success at the University of North Carolina," says Mack Brown. "If I get to struggling I get around Randy and pick myself up. Randy is why you coach. You want to see a guy like Randy Jordan have some success because of all his struggles. He never talks about his problems. He's never felt sorry for himself. He never says `I didn't have very much.' Randy's talking about the next day and the future. You coach for people like Randy Jordan."
"The Lord only puts a lot of pressure on you because he wants to test you, see if you're able to hang on and hold your head high," Jordan says. "You've just got to put your faith in him that it will work out. I couldn't have come back without my faith."
***
Eleven days after his breakaway run on the practice field, Jordan provided another glimpse of what might be. Early in the Blue-White spring game in Kenan Stadium, he took a pitch, angled toward the left boundary, stuttered to give his blocking a chance to clear, sped around the corner, dodged one tackler, shed another tackle, then high-geared it for 37 yards until someone with an angle knocked him out-of-bounds. A smattering of a couple thousand people in the sun-splashed stadium buzzed.
Jordan has run well in drills. He's run well in spring games. He's run well in his dreams. He sees himself breaking one a la Rocket Ismail, late of Notre Dame. He sees all the Carolina blue in the end zone as an official signals TD.
"I remember one play Ismail made," Jordan says. "He got a pitch and took it 80 yards. It was just pure speed. The guys had angles on him, they just couldn't get him.
"There's one dream I had," he says. "We were playing Duke, this is no joke, and I don't know who was in at the time, but Coach told me to get in, and we ran a sweep, and we were on the one-inch line, three seconds left. I got the pitch, and there was one guy in my way. Do I run over or run around him? I ran straight towards him and he was running straight towards me, I faked a one way and scooted in for the touchdown.
"I do dream a lot about scoring touchdowns for Carolina because I've only scored once, and that was just a great feeling. I want to have many more feelings like that to come."
In the case of Randy Jordan, that doesn't seem like too much to ask.
EPILOGUE-Randy Jordan scored his touchdowns as a senior for the Tar Heels, seven of them, in fact, while gaining 618 yards in the Tar Heels' 7-4 season in 1991. From there he received his degree in 1993 and played nine years in the NFL, six with the Raiders in both Los Angeles and Oakland and three with Jacksonville. He entered the coaching business in 2003 and worked four years at Nebraska and four at Texas A&M.
During his years in College Station, Jordan's path often crossed that of Mack Brown, his former Tar Heel head coach and since 1998 the head coach at arch-rival Texas. Brown in recent months told Larry Fedora that if Brown needed to hire a running backs coach for the Longhorns, he'd go after Jordan in an instant. That endorsement was among the factors Fedora considered in putting his new Tar Heel staff together.
"I've never been prouder of anyone than Randy," Brown says today. "He's a great role model for so many kids. A lot of people think they have problems. Their's are nothing compared to what he had to deal with."
Jordan joined Fedora's staff on Jan. 20 and now is one week into spring practice with the Tar Heels.
"I'm excited, I'm home," says Jordan, who brings wife Romonda and three children to Chapel Hill. "I have a lot of great memories. There've been a lot of changes, but the landmarks are still here--the Bell Tower, Kenan Stadium. I just went through Carmichael Dorm, where I roomed with Steven Jerry. My wife and I went to Hector's for a burger. We were laughing about the time we went there years ago. I thought I had my money but left it in the dorm room. She said, `Okay, I'll take you back to get your money.'"
Jordan laughs. "She wouldn't even spring for a burger!"
"I just thank Coach Fedora for giving me this opportunity. I went back and looked at some of the clippings when I played. Two of my dreams were to play in National Football League, then come back here one day and coach. It feels good to be back."
Today Jordan teaches the Tar Heels about carrying the football, protecting the quarterback, returning kicks and covering kick-offs as he did so lethally in the NFL. But more than anything, he's there to teach them about life.
"My time here taught me to just keep pounding, keep grinding, go one step at a time," he says. "A lot of kids don't realize that so much of success is simply showing up--get out of bed in the morning and show up. They give up when it gets real hard. That's when the breakthrough comes. I tell them all the time, `Enjoy the process.' It is a process. Rome wasn't built in a day. You keep persevering; you never know what's going to happen to you."
