Sweetness_ The Enigmatic Life of Walter Payton - Jeff Pearlman [65]
Armed with a rainbow-hued customized Ford van with a shag rug interior (with help from his parents, he bought the vehicle after his junior year), Payton fancied himself a cartoon character brought to life. He developed unusual behaviors that, were he not the star running back, probably wouldn’t have flown. Explained simply, Payton liked to test people; to see how far he could take a gag until those around him exploded. When unsuspecting friends and teammates were focused elsewhere, he approached from behind and bit them on the shoulder—hard. “I would walk into the office with my back turned, and instead of saying hello, Walter would slip behind me, grab me, and scare me to death,” said Edith Guston, a secretary in the Jackson State football office. “He was playful like that.” Were Walter waiting at a red traffic light, he’d turn toward a nearby pedestrian and scream as loud as possible. “Just to scare the guy,” said Vernon Perry, Jackson State’s safety. “Gave Walter a good laugh.” Several of the Jackson State players were locals, and Payton enjoyed visiting their boyhood homes, sitting on the porch, and firing his rifle at squirrels, dogs, and mailboxes.
For kicks, in the lead-up to Halloween Walter and teammates Perry and Brazile purchased a hideous rubber mask from the nearby five-and-ten store. They proceeded to ride around town in Walter’s van, taking turns scaring people. “It was a blast,” said Perry. “We’d pull up next to a car, and Walter or Robert would put it on and they’d make little kids cry.” On Halloween night Payton donned the mask and tiptoed toward a parked automobile. Inside, a Jackson State player was making out with his girlfriend. Payton, Perry, and Brazile surrounded the car while shaking it and screaming. The teammate, completely naked, jumped out and ran, leaving his girlfriend behind. “That’s how bad that mask was,” Perry said. “Walter was a hoot.”
Though more serious and studious than Walter, Connie embraced the comfort that came with knowing he was by her side, as well as the status befitting a football star’s girlfriend. Before long she was known all over campus—the Jaycette with the athletic hero. Even to those who resented Connie’s presence, she and Walter were Jackson State’s star couple. “Oh, Connie was beautiful,” said Douglas Baker, a Tigers center. “You didn’t get to be a Jaycette unless you were statuesque and gorgeous and could dance. She had all of that.”
Connie, however, was hardly the only object of Walter’s affection. Throughout the later portion of Payton’s junior year, Jackson State’s staff began toying with the idea of mounting a campaign to land Payton the Heisman Trophy. The Tigers were loaded with talented players and, specifically, talented running backs. Along with Payton and Rickey Young, Hill’s backfield included Joe Lowery, aka “The Rubber Ball,” a bruising, undersized tailback who would later attend training camp with the Denver Broncos, and John Ealy, a speedy senior from Baton Rouge, Louisiana.
“We had a lot of stars to choose from,” said Hill. “But the newspapers barely covered us and we had almost no budget to speak of. So one day I got the team together and said, ‘Look, what we need to do is get more people coming to the games so we can increase our funds. To do that, we need a star.’” Hill cited John Wayne, at the time starring in The Train Robbers, and Telly Savalas, TV’s beloved Kojak. “Here’s Walter,” Hill told his men. “He’s got all the potential. We can take him and promote him and put him up for the Heisman. He has an outside chance because of our budget and who we play, but he has a legitimate chance because he’s that good. But before we do this, I need to know that you guys won’t be angry or resentful. I need to know that our team will stick together, even when we’re putting an individual out front.”
Hill left the room, leaving his sixty-six players alone to discuss the issue. When he returned, Brazile stood up. “Coach,” he said, “if it’s good for the program, it’s good for us.