Some would say a unique talent left unrealized, even oftentimes unappreciated.
Once a high school star who was the talk of the Peach State on Friday nights, some of the reasons behind Richardson’s disappearance from the headlines the past two seasons at FSU have been purely circumstantial.
While that other part, he’ll freely admit, has been his own doing.
There have been times since Richardson arrived in 2005 — as he stood by and watched former starters Drew Weatherford and Xavier Lee turn in back-to-back 7-6 seasons — that Georgia’s 2005 Class AAAA Player of the Year would stop in front of Doak Campbell Stadium on his way to class or practice — peering beyond the statue of his legendary coach Bobby Bowden — just so he could imagine the very first moment he’ll finally feel 84,000 fans cheering for him.
"I think about it all the time. I lie awake at night sometimes ... just dreaming about that moment, man. Scoring that first touchdown. All that," said Richardson during a one-on-one interview with The Herald back in April at the FSU sports information office. That afternoon, he came in wearing a hooded sweatshirt and garnet gym shorts, along with a backpack and a thick, black binder — his playbook — which he held tightly under his arm as if he were afraid someone was going to steal it.
I had originally traveled to Tallahassee in April to write a catch-up story on arguably the greatest football player to ever come out of Leesburg, and whether he felt he’d finally fit in on a team that seemingly had little use for him in two previous campaigns.
But because I was a bit early that afternoon, I found myself waiting in the office of sports information director for Florida State football Elliott Finebloom.
"So how’s our guy look? He have a shot to take the starting job from Drew?" I asked Elliot, only half-serious.
After all, everyone knew FSU had been Weatherford’s team since he was a freshman; then there was uber-talented Christian Ponder for Richardson to worry about; plus, the top QB in the country in 2007, E.J. Manuel, was on his way to Tallahassee; and here I was asking about a guy in Richardson who had played two snaps, in two games, in two years --- and had thought about transferring out of FSU more than once.
But Finebloom blew me away with his answer.
"Yeah, D’Vo’s got a decent shot," he said as if it was no secret that new FSU offensive coordinator Jimbo Fisher was looking to replace Bowden’s longtime go-to guy in Weatherford. "Jimbo’s opened up the competition this fall and I’ll tell you what: D’Vo’s a great player, and he really came on in spring."
With little time for a
follow-up question or chance to react, seconds later, Richardson walked in.
"Hey, D’Vo. You guys can sit in here," Finebloom said, calling Richardson by his nickname as he motioned us to a corner office while glancing at the binder under the QB’s arm. "I see you’ve got that playbook, D’Vo. Good work, man."
"Yes, sir," RIchardson politely responded. "Been studying all the time."
And at that moment, I knew: For a guy who was once thought to be the reincarnation of another famous former Florida State quarterback in Charlie Ward, this would not be a story I could write in April.
Or May.
Or June.
Or July.
Or even August.
If everything played out like Finebloom or many of D’Vo’s supporters always thought it one day would for him in Tallahassee, there was only one time to publish what I believed would ultimately be a coming-of-age piece: Sept. 6, 2008.
Today.
Otherwise known as the date of Florida State’s 2008 season opener at home against Western Carolina — a game in which Richardson will start as the No. 2 quarterback behind Ponder, with the assurance from Fisher he’ll play early and often.
More importantly, it’s also the day that Richardson will finally get to hear 84,000 fans screaming his name.
WAIT ... WHICH
GUY IS D’VO AGAIN?
When Richardson found out he’d won the job as backup earlier this week — nearly five months after he and I first spoke — he told me it was a feeling like no other.
"I feel like I’ve come a long way," he said with immense pride in his voice from his cell phone Wednesday evening.
So true — especially
considering there was a time Bowden barely knew the guy was on his team.
“Here’s a little story that truly shows how far D’Vontrey’s come," said Steve Glover, Richardson’s foster father whom he began living with during his junior year at Lee County after Richardson had a falling-out with his dad. "When D’Vo first got to Tallahassee as a freshman, he was out at practice one day and coach Bowden walked over toward him for the first time. But then Bobby walks right past D’Vo and up to this other kid and was like, ’Hey there D’Vontrey. How ya doing?’
"Man, D’Vo called me later and was so upset, like, ’Man, coach Bowden doesn’t even know who I am!’ ”
Adios to those days.
Now pick up any paper covering FSU and you’re hard-pressed to find an article that mentions Richardson in which Bowden isn’t rambling on about his No. 2 QB’s speed or his athleticisim or the fact he has a cannon for an arm.
"He made some big plays that you can’t coach — he gets trapped, he spins over there, he spins back over there and throws a 30-yard touchdown pass," Bowden told The Tallahassee Democrat after this past Sunday’s scrimmage. "So there’s a place for him."
Of course, Bowden’s eyes had been on Richardson ever since the redshirt sophomore was named the Most Improved Offensive Player after spring practices.
A fact Richardson didn’t even know when we sat down to talk in April.
"Wait ... really?" Richardson asked me as I skimmed by the news during one of my questions, thinking he already knew. "Most improved? Hmmm .... well, I guess that’s good. I’m not sure how to take that. One way, it’s a compliment. The other way, it lets me know they thought I needed to get better."
Richardson then paused, leaned back in his chair and picked nervously at an imaginary piece of lint on his sweatshirt. He then took a deep breath and almost blurted out: "But really, they were right. I did need to get better. I wasn’t taking it as seriously as I should’ve my first two years.
"And I know it showed."
’WHAT AM
I DOING HERE?’
During any type of
rehabilitation, some say admission is the first step to recovery. In Richardson’s case, he’d long admitted to himself he hadn’t been working as hard as he should’ve.
But in front of me in April, he was finally saying it out loud.
And better yet, he had a plan to do something about it.
"You see this playbook right here?" he asked me, pointing to the black binder Finebloom gushed about upon seeing it. "These days, this thing never leaves my side. I take it with me everywhere I go. Morning, noon and night, reading this thing. It’s like my best friend ... and my worst enemy."
Although it used to always be the latter, Richardson said.
"My first year (as a redshirt), (the coaches) gave me this, and because I knew I wasn’t playing, I didn’t really stay up on it like I shoulda. That was my first mistake," he said. "Then last year, when Jimbo came in and I had to step in and learn the plays, I was just so far behind. Meanwhile, guys like Christian and Drew were doing real good in it, plus they knew how to make the reads and the throws already. It just made me wonder if I had paid attention more before, maybe that woulda been me out there."
As others made strides, Richardson was often the odd man out, getting very few reps in practice, and hardly ever with the first team.
"It just made for a frustrating time for me. And there were days when, yeah, I asked myself, ’What am I doing here? Why did I come to Florida State? Did I make the right decision?’ ” Richardson said. "But deep down, I basically know (not playing) was my fault. I hadn’t paid attention like I should’ve; learned the plays like I should’ve. And I was just feeling sorry for myself."
That’s when Richardson reached a crossroads.
Around midseason last year — as he saw fewer reps in practice at quarterback; promised playing time that never reached fruition; and talk beginning among FSU coaches about possibly switching him to receiver, or even defensive back —- the former two-sport star at Lee County, who came to FSU to play both baseball and football, strongly considered transferring.
"Yeah, I thought about it. More than once, " Richardson told me, almost ashamed to admit it now. "But my family and friends were like, ’Nah, D’Vo, you made a commitment to FSU, stick it out.’ Plus, I really love it here. That’s why I came. And I’ve made a lot of friends. So I just sucked it up and hung in there."
Helping him through the tough times on the football field, meanwhile, was being able to play baseball — and doing so with former Lee County teammate, Buster Posey. But after one season in which he batted .351 with 46 hits, 20 RBI and two HRs, Richardson’s grades slipped, forcing him to sit out his sophomore season and take a hard look at his priorities.
"I wasn’t partying or doing anything bad, I was just being lazy. Lazy in the classroom. Lazy at practice. Everything just kept frustrating me and I didn’t know how to handle it," Richardson said as he shrugged his shoulders. "And then the thing with baseball ... when I would see (my teammates) around school, I couldn’t even look them in the eye. I just felt embarrassed."
It was only then that Richardson realized something about himself — and his future: As he watched the FSU baseball team rumble through the season without him — often ranked No. 1 — he understood that his actions, and his alone, had cost him a chance to play one of the games he loved.
And through dedication only to football and academics this offseason, he made sure he didn’t lose the other.
MAKIN’ CHARLIE
PROUD
On Oct. 21, 2005, in a game to decide the Region
1-AAAA championship, D’Vontrey Richardson threw for four touchdowns, then ran for another as he led Lee County to a 42-41 victory against neighboring power Thomas County Central.
It still stands as the Trojans’ only win against the mighty Yellow Jackets in 19 tries.
Yet, what happened after the game is what still stands out to many.
"Charlie (Ward) Sr. was at that game that night," Glover began, "and when it ended, he walked onto the field and right up to D’Vontrey and said, ’Son, there’s been a lot of quarterbacks who have been compared to my boy over the years. But let me tell you right now, it’s an honor when people put you two in the same sentence. What you did was amazing out here tonight. You’re the real deal.’ ”
While Richardson idolized Ward growing up, he also understood part of becoming a star like Ward meant first matching the leadership he brought to the Seminoles.
In April, Richardson flat told me he was not yet that guy.
But on Wednesday night when we spoke, he felt he had become him.
"What’s changed the most in five months?" Richardson repeated my question. "Well, I guess the fact that I’m no longer the one always being taught, and now — trying to be a leader — I’m doing some of the teaching. Getting more involved with teammates and have the coaches see me getting more involved so they know that I am aware of where everybody is supposed to be. I’d never done that before.
"I guess, really, the answer is, I’ve grown up."
Others, namely Fisher, have noticed.
"He impressed me very much," Fisher told Rivals.com last week. "I keep saying that kid impresses me more and more every day. There are certain guys, when they play, they do things right, and that’s what he’s learned to do. He understands how to play quarterback, not just the physical skills, but now he’s beating you with his mind."
Last year, while I was covering the FSU-Miami game for The Herald, the world watched as Lee — the preseason No. 2 QB at the time — blew a big fourth-quarter lead to bitter rival Miami at Doak Campbell as the Seminoles wound up losing, 37-29. Afterward, several sportswriters began echoing the same sentence throughout the press box about FSU’s quarterback quandary: "They need to give that D’Vontrey guy a chance."
Little did anyone know, Richardson was nowhere close to being ready. And had Bowden or Fisher thrown him into the fire last year — ill-prepared in an unfamiliar system and likely destined to fail — maybe Richardson wouldn’t even be at Florida State this year. Maybe he would’ve given up and left.
Thankfully, he didn’t.
These days, Richardson’s a 3.0 student in no academic trouble whatsoever. Instead of TV, he watches endless hours of game film. And no longer does his mind wander in meetings — now he asks the questions.
Simply put: From the time he wakes up to the time he goes to sleep, his brain seemingly churns on repeat — classwork-football-classwork-football.
"You still studying that playbook day and night?" I asked Richardson as one of my final questions Wednesday when we spoke. "I remember you had a tight grip on it the last time I saw you."
"Oh yeah, you know it," he replied. "I got it sitting next to me right now as a matter of fact."
After we hung up, I
started trying to remember how we’d left off the first conversation back in April in Tallahassee. But it had been so long ago.
What I did recall was what Finebloom said to me as we walked out of the office that afternoon — more than an hour after D’Vo and I first sat down.
"Wow! That was some conversation," Finebloom joked as he ushered us to the door. "So I guess the only question is when’s the D’Vontrey Richardson novel coming out?"
And while I couldn’t answer that question then — I think I can now.
I guess this article could serve as the opening chapters to Richardson’s story.
But writing the rest will be up to him.
