This is a story about unfulfilled potential. This is a story about a kid who wouldn’t let the Syracuse football program save him. This is a story about Larry McClain.
You could never understand Larry McClain. You could never understand the violence he’s witnessed – the friends who have been murdered, the drive-by shootings and the friends in jail. You could never understand why he leads two separate lives. It is too brutal for even McClain himself to understand.
Another thing no one can understand is how McClain went from a high school phenom and Forestville, Md., legend to a virtual disappearing act. How he went from a football prodigy who chose to play at Syracuse after being recruited by the likes of Maryland and Tennessee to completely giving up on what could have been a brilliant career.
Absolutely no one has the answers to these questions.
Messages left on McClain’s cell phone were left unreturned.
‘I can’t even tell you the things that have happened in this kid’s life,’ Forestville Military Academy head football coach Charles Harley said. ‘With the murders he’s seen and everything else, his life is like a movie. He’s got so many stories you just wouldn’t believe it.’
Forestville Idol
Another thing you could never believe about Larry McClain is the attention he received in high school. Harley first encountered McClain the summer before his junior year, Harley’s first year at Forestville as an assistant coach. But he already knew about McClain, whose football talent had turned him into something of a town legend.
Before the season, McClain had broken his hand in a fight. At the time he weighed only 160 pounds. With his hand in a cast, he could still bench press 155. Harley knew he had something special on his hands.
That season, McClain truly made a name for himself. Not only did he have 13 interceptions as a cornerback, but he rushed for 1,400 yards as a running back. Forestville won the state championship in ultra-competitive Maryland.
‘Right away, as a junior, you saw the talent,’ Harley said. ‘People said that he was a freak of nature.’
Through high school, McClain had nearly everything handed to him. He had it all: tremendous athletic ability and tremendous popularity – popularity that soon contributed to his downfall.
As a high school senior things only heightened. His popularity only grew. Everyone in Forestville knew Larry McClain.
‘He got street name,’ Harley said. ‘Cats know who he is. You couldn’t pick him out of a crowd. He’s not the guy with the nice clothes and jewelry. You could never pick him out, but everybody knew about him.’
McClain’s senior year and Harley’s first as head coach, Forestville returned only one offensive starter. A rebuilding year? Not when that starter’s name is Larry McClain.
McClain rushed for 2,300 yards. In nine games, Forestville didn’t complete a pass, and in six of them they didn’t even bother trying. No point to, not with McClain in the backfield. Forestville returned to the state title game. It was Saturday.
Then, his popularity caught up with him. McClain’s former girlfriend, Meah Maiden, gave birth to his son, Larry Jr., on Wednesday.
During his senior season, McClain verbally committed to Syracuse and special teams coach Chris White, who recruited him. Problem was, McClain needed to improve his ACT scores and grades. At the urging of Syracuse coaches, McClain headed for Fork Union Military Academy, a college preparatory school in northern Virginia, a move that McClain readily agreed to.
‘We kind of expected that he’d have some work to do school-wise to get here,’ White said. ‘He didn’t come from a stable background family-wise. He had a baby. That’s a lot of baggage.’
A life unravels
White believes Fork Union was the place where McClain’s life truly began to unravel. Before Fork Union, his life had virtually no structure. He came and went as he pleased, he owned the football field and no one had ever tried to tell him what to do. For the first time in his life he had to deal with discipline, and not necessarily being the best guy on the football field.
He excelled on the field and got his grades up enough to enroll in college, but military life took its toll on McClain. White talked to McClain at least once a week while he was at Fork Union, and visited whenever he could. He could tell that McClain was not happy.
Then in April of 2002, tragedy struck. One of his friends was murdered in a drive-by shooting. McClain went home for the funeral and never returned.
‘He was a quiet and reserved type fellow,’ said Fork Union head coach Lt. Col. John Shuman. ‘Everyone in a military environment goes through some mood swings. Everyone wants to go home at time because we’re not like a public school where you have breaks. It was the same for Larry.’
Said White: ‘There were a lot of hard feelings at Fork Union. They weren’t happy he didn’t come back and that burned some bridges. But they cooperated and released his transcript.’
On the road to Syracuse?
McClain sat in front of his house in Forestville, waiting for two assistant coaches to pick him and his bags up – Harley was in Florida on business. Finally, McClain was on his way to Syracuse, ready to begin a new life.
After chatting with some friends, he left for school with his coaches.
Ten minutes later, on the spot he had stood, a murderer drove by and killed one of McClain’s friends.
He stayed at one of the assistant coaches’ houses that night. In the morning, he decided he couldn’t leave.
White conferred with Syracuse head coach Paul Pasqualoni and the pair told McClain to take his time to get ready. The scholarship offer would still be there, and McClain could contact White when he was ready to return.
Still, White had his doubts.
‘I don’t think I ever felt comfortable with him after he was at Fork Union,’ White said. ‘He wasn’t the same kid that I had recruited two years ago. He didn’t have the same passion for football, and there were too many other distractions at home.’
While at home, McClain worked in construction, and watched a dismal Syracuse team struggle its way to a 4-8 record. He knew he could contribute, and was eager to get back into football.
Finally made it
McClain contacted White and told him that he missed football and wanted to come back. Syracuse accepted and McClain returned for the spring semester. This time, Harley personally escorted McClain to Syracuse. SU coaches assured Harley that McClain would be taken care of.
But something wasn’t right. McClain’s friends from home kept calling. He was caught in the middle of two different lives – one at home with his friends and one in Syracuse with his teammates and football. The problem was that McClain couldn’t choose one – he had almost become two different people.
‘His friends were calling him excessively,’ Harley said. ‘He was living two different lives, and he missed his friends.’
While at Syracuse, McClain participated in winter workouts and participated in about five spring practices. He seemed to enjoy school and his teammates.
He never made it to the spring game. But he showed his potential, which intrigued White and Syracuse cornerback Steve Gregory.
‘He worked really hard,’ White said. ‘He’d been a starter his whole life and we said he’d have the chance to start, but it wouldn’t be given to him. That frustrated him, but you can’t guarantee a kid a starting spot.’
Said Gregory: ‘He showed he had some ability in practice. He was excited about being here, and could have been a player that could help.’
Despite White’s and the rest of the SU coaching staff’s attempts to change McClain’s mind, he returned to Forestville. White said that the coaches tried everything possible to keep McClain, and told him that getting his degree would be the best thing to help his mother and family. He wouldn’t listen.
McClain quitting despite his enormous athletic ability frustrated those who knew him most. White believes it all goes back to Fork Union, where McClain lost his desire to play football.
The person it frustrated the most was his mother, Frances. She raised McClain in a drug- and crime-infested neighborhood with little help from his father. She believed in him and his ability on the field. McClain’s decision devastated her to the point that she can’t even watch football on TV.
‘I though he was liking football,’ Frances said. ‘If I knew it was going to end like this I wouldn’t have worked so hard raising him.
‘I told him, ‘I didn’t know you were going to break my heart. The Lord blessed you to play football. You worked too hard and came too far for this. You had millions waiting for you.’ ‘
Back to Forestville
When McClain departed Syracuse, SU coaches announced he had transferred to Bowie State in order to be closer to home. Turns out that he never enrolled there, and although Bowie State head coach Henry Frazier said he hopes to get McClain in school by the spring, Harley said he doubts McClain will ever play football again.
McClain’s popularity and stardom at home had caught up with him.
‘I don’t think he ever wanted to play when he was here,’ White said. ‘He just wanted to go home. He just doesn’t love football anymore. To me, he lost it at Fork Union. He had his friends, his girlfriend and mother to worry about.’
McClain still lives with his mother in Forestville. Perhaps, still no one can understand him, but they can’t help but wonder what could have been. Harley said that McClain is working, but needs to get his life in order. The two talk frequently and have developed an extraordinary relationship despite their 16-year age difference.
Harley tries to make McClain understand that eventually he has to get himself in a situation where he’s doing ‘legitimate things.’ He believes McClain will never play football again, but hopes he will get his education.
‘Larry is such a natural kid that he didn’t need to work out,’ Harley said. ‘He’s not willing to work hard enough at this point to get back.
‘If you didn’t know him you wouldn’t believe the stuff he’s been through. He’s fun to be around and a compassionate kid. This kid is still like Madonna around here. Whatever he wants, he gets. It was a different world out there for him than it was here.’
Seems no one, in that different world, could understand him.
Published on October 1, 2003 at 12:00 pm