Texas A&M coach Kevin Sumlin doesn’t allow freshmen to talk to the media, so Johnny Manziel was hidden behind a curtain last season.
He should have stayed there, should have continued to dazzle us on the field and not been given a chance to open his immature mouth and stick his stinking cleat in it.
But after winning the Heisman Trophy last season, the first freshman to do so, A&M had no choice but to give us our first look and listen at Johnny Football. And he was pitch perfect.
“I get the chance to stand up here when really there could be five offensive linemen standing up here in the spotlight because they really deserve just as much, if not more, credit,” he said that December night in the Big Apple.
Humble.
He appeared on Letterman and delivered his Top 10 perks that go along with winning the Heisman. No. 5 was, “I’ll probably be the only Heisman Trophy winner at my high school reunion.”
Hilarious.
He partied in clubs. He partied in casinos. He partied on Twitter, firing off rants.
Johnny Football was living the life, and because he hadn’t crossed the line Joe Namath never crossed, Michael Jordan never crossed, Mark Messier never crossed, Mickey Mantle never crossed, we ate it up.
You see, all of those superstars were notorious revelers who enjoyed their fame to the max. Namath’s and Mantle’s night life would humble a college junior. Jordan and Messier were more discreet off the playing field, but stone-cold assassins on it.
Never did they blatantly embarrass their coaches or put their teammates in peril or hideously mock an overmatched opponent. They understood we will cut our sports heroes a lot of slack as long as they don’t cross certain lines.
We would have tolerated Johnny Football signing autographs, for which he may or may not have been paid. We would have tolerated his Twitter outbursts. We would have tolerated the nightlife.
As long as the Heisman Trophy winner dazzled us on the field and didn’t act like some grotesque amalgam of Will Ferrell, Bill Murray and Dwayne Johnson, we would have let Johnny be Johnny.
But that’s exactly what Johnny Foolboy has done this season. He broke the code, crossed the line, crapped out.
Two weeks ago, after the NCAA, which couldn’t prove water is wet, absurdly suspended Manziel for the first half of the season opener against Rice, he reminded us why he’s the most exciting college football player we’ve seen since Deion Sanders. He completed six passes in the second half and three went for touchdowns.
And then Johnny Foolboy all but exposed himself on the field.
He rubbed his fingers together in a show-me-the-money gesture. He mimed signing autographs. He trash-talked Rice players, pointing to the scoreboard, which showed the Owls hopelessly behind.
After that got him penalized for taunting and put his teammates in danger for giving the opposition reason to take a cheap shot at any player wearing an A&M jersey, Manziel walked right past as Sumlin was trying to talk some sense into the star.
Johnny Foolboy wouldn’t listen because when Johnny Foolboy looks at a team photo, he only sees himself.
“He is the most polarizing college football player I’ve seen in my 50 years of broadcasting,” said CBS play-by-play man Verne Lundquist, who will call the sixth-ranked Aggies’ must-see game Saturday against No.1 Alabama (3:30 p.m.; CBS).
“There’s a large group of people that are unhappy with his behavior and understandably so. And there are some people that admire his anti-establishment, in-your-face personality.”
The question is which side do his teammates and coaches come down on? Are they tired of their star player’s act? Are they fed up with other every other question, it seems, being about their quarterback?
Sumlin has said Manziel didn’t walk away from him. He also said Manziel would not have gone back into the Rice game regardless of the score after getting his taunting penalty.
The A&M players have been remarkably consistent in praising Manziel’s unique talents and fiery competitiveness. University president R. Bowen Loftin has thrown in with Johnny Football. He recently was pictured sitting on a golf cart rubbing his thumbs and fingers together — an homage to Manziel’s get-paid signal.
It’s hard to imagine a defensive player not wanting to knock Manziel out of his helmet. No one likes his nose rubbed in it. No one.
“I know the players are saying all the right things and the coach has said Manziel didn’t ignore,” Lundquist said. “The president has been his biggest supporter. They’re trying to have some control.
“This kid, to me, is running the place. At some point, you have to think it’s being disruptive.”
The tipping point for Manziel could come Saturday. If he is more petulant with his gestures than precise with his passes, the nation’s jury might return a verdict of “Jerk!” Heisman voters, fairly or not, might refuse to vote for a petulant brat.
But the brat can play. He racked up 439 yards in total offense and scored five touchdowns in last week’s win over Sam Houston State. By the end of the Alabama game, it’s possible Manziel’s cheering squad will have been reduced to minions who couldn’t land a role in “Despicable Me III.”
The stage couldn’t be grander. This is being billed as the biggest home game in Texas A&M history — a showdown of the Heisman Trophy winner against the two-time defending national champions.
Alabama is looking to become a program for the ages, the first to win three straight national championships. Manziel has his own goal.
“If you continue to try to strive to be the best football player in the entire world, which I want to be, I think good things will happen,” he said after being presented with the Heisman.
The best college football player in the world is Johnny Manziel, who was hidden from us for a while. Now we know he’s Johnny Foolboy. We believe his teammates, his coaches and his opponents do, too.
The curtain can’t close quickly enough on his act.