Larry Johnson loves being angry. He wouldn't have it any other way.
"I like being [ticked] off," Johnson told the Kansas City Star in an interview last November. "I know that sometimes when I'm happy, something usually comes along and knocks me back down to earth. So I like keeping it at a real chill level, being prepared for anything, something good, something bad."
Always be prepared - the Boy Scout motto. More menacing than your average Boy Scout, Larry Johnson is prepared to deal with the doubters, the haters, the non-believers. The people such as his former head coach, who once said that the Chiefs' running back needed to "take the diapers off", and the others who continue to question his ability.
Some of us are motivated by money. Others are enamored with power. Johnson's fire comes from within, fueled by coaches whom he believed weren't ready to deal with a player of his caliber. Stoked by years of impatiently waiting for his chance.
The wait is over. Yet Larry Johnson still feels the need to prove that he belongs.
Anyone who has ever played sports can tell you that being the coach's son is both a gift and a curse. As such, Larry Johnson was blessed - or damned, depending on how you look at it - for much of his early football career.
Going back to his Pop Warner days, Johnson felt the need to prove that he wasn't playing merely because his father was the team's coach. The younger Johnson was driven to show people that he was getting the carries because he deserved them.
High school was a different story. LJ may have merited more touches at State College (PA) Area High, but he didn't actually get them until his senior year, a season in which he rushed for 2,159 yards and 29 TDs. That was enough to earn him a scholarship to Penn State, where the familiar refrain - "wait your turn" - was repeated once again.
For his first four years in Happy Valley, Larry Johnson was one very unhappy running back. But when he finally got on the field as a fifth-year senior, something special happened. 2,087 yards, 20 TDs and one third-place finish in the Heisman voting later, Johnson had established himself as one of the greatest tailbacks in Penn State history. The only thing left now was to prove he could do it on the next level.
Three years ago, Kansas City, Missouri was Priest Holmes' town. Which probably isn't saying all that much since the only other high-profile athletes in the "City of Fountains" at that time were Tony Gonzalez and the Royals' Carlos Beltran. Even still, Holmes was firmly entrenched as the face of the Chiefs' franchise.
Which is why many people were confused when KC selected Johnson with the 27th pick in the first round of the 2003 draft. Why burn an early pick on a back when Holmes had just set the team's single-season rushing record (1,615 yards in 2002)? Granted, Holmes would turn 30 early in the 2003 season, but he was showing no signs of slowing down. If anything, Priest Holmes was still in the midst of his prime.
So Larry Johnson was relegated to the bench. Once again. For the better part of two seasons, he mulled over his status as the third-string RB, behind both Holmes and change-of-pace back Derrick Blaylock. Being that deep on the depth chart did not sit (no pun intended) all that well with Johnson, who, in turn, started fights in practice, skipped team meetings, and vented his frustrations to the media.
His problems weren't limited to the Chiefs' practice facility. Johnson was charged in December 2003 with aggravated assault and domestic battery after a dispute with an ex-girlfriend, and was ordered to perform 120 hours of community service. In fact, LJ did just about everything outlined in the "How to Get Yourself Traded" textbook. Only, the Chiefs never flinched.
In 2004, opportunity knocked in the form of a Priest Holmes' knee injury in Week 9 against the Cleveland Browns. Blaylock and Johnson would share the load for the rest of that campaign, and Johnson would rush for 498 yards and 9 TDs in the season's last five contests. Those games came after head coach Dick Vermeil infamously called out his tempermental running back. Truth be told, Vermeil wasn't terribly far off with the diaper comment. The problem was that Larry Johnson wasn't a baby - he was a man-child. A man-child waiting for his turn.
With Blaylock signing with the NY Jets before the 2005 season, Johnson got the nod as Holmes' primary replacement. Holmes and Johnson split carries for the first part of last year until Holmes was, yet again, shut down by a leg injury. Fate, destiny... call it whatever you wish. At that moment, Larry Johnson became "the man" in the Kansas City backfield. Over the next nine weeks, the 26-year-old Johnson would convince an entire congregation of Chiefs' fans to turn its collective back on its Priest.
Kansas City became Larry Johnson's town.
Ladanian Tomlinson runs with speed. Shaun Alexander runs with power. Larry Johnson runs with anger.
Treating would-be tacklers like a jilted lover spurns an ex-boyfriend, Johnson punishes opposing defenses with his physical running style. This isn't just three yards and a cloud of dust football, my friends - it's more like five yards and halfway to a first down.
Larry Johnson rushed for 100 yards or more in each of the final nine games of last season, ripping off 200-yard performances in games against the Texans and the Bengals. He scored 17 times during that span, an average of nearly two touchdowns per game.
Despite not starting the first seven games of the 2005 season, Johnson finished the year with 1,750 yards and 21 TDs (20 rushing, 1 receiving). His on-field exploits have caused some to speculate as to whether he can put up 2,500 yards next season. While that projection may seem slightly inflated, if you happen to have a high pick in your fantasy football league's draft this year, it's enough to give you pause.
It's somewhat ironic that Johnson flashes the diamond symbol every time he reaches the end zone. According to Wikipedia, diamonds are the byproduct of "prolonged exposure of carbon-bearing materials to high pressure and temperature." Larry Johnson has dealt with pressure in many forms throughout his football career. But even with all of his successes on the football field, the fire within him still burns.
In Herm Edwards, Johnson has a new coach who - despite the impending return of Holmes - has already anointed him as the starter going into training camp. Edwards has also promised that the team will run the ball more this season. Yet Larry Johnson is still angry.
Perhaps one day, LJ will finally find that inner peace. Today isn't that day. Tomorrow isn't looking so good, either.
For Chiefs' fans, that may not be such a bad thing.
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The Big Hurt. The Crime Dog. The Glove. Prime Time. Just some of the nicknames that helped shape my formative years. Aliases of athletes that I attempted to mimic on the streets and playgrounds of West Philadelphia.
