Vanderbilt offensive lineman Chris Williams has added a lot in the past few years -- muscle, determination, a wife. On draft day, you'll know him as a first-round pick, but to really know him you must understand how his passions shaped his journey.
During his wedding homily, Father Greg Daigle turned toward the bride and groom and said teasingly, "She pursued him. That's what I heard."
This is how it began. Marissa Love was a waitress at a steakhouse in Nashville when a group of Vanderbilt football players came in one day three summers ago. She thought the big one was cute, but she was too shy to give him her phone number herself. So she had her friend hand it to him as he left the restaurant.
Chris Williams was an offensive lineman. He wasn't accustomed to girls giving him second glances, much less their phone numbers. You better believe he was intrigued. So he called her the next day and a love story was born.
A new chapter was written last Saturday deep in the heart of Cajun country -- where sugar cane fields, soybean farms and the occasional stately mansion with a big wraparound porch dot the landscape -- when Chris and Marissa wed at Immaculate Conception Church in Lakeland, La., 20 miles northwest of Baton Rouge and just a few miles down the road from the tiny town of Glynn, where Williams grew up.
This is the same church where Chris' paternal grandfather was married. Forced to evacuate New Orleans because of Hurricane Katrina, he now lives in his son's house and has Chris' old bedroom. It is the church Chris' family has belonged to for 23 years. It's where Chris and his twin sister, Christine, used to be altar servers at 7 a.m. Mass on Sundays because their father liked going that early. "They hated me for that," Joseph Williams says, smiling.
Father Daigle, a former opera singer who played the piano and sang "Like Cedars They Will Stand" before the wedding ceremony, has been the pastor at Immaculate Conception for six years. He recalled when Williams used to serve Mass. "He's still the same height," he told the congregation.
The 6-6 Williams may be just as tall as he was back then, but his musculature has changed remarkably. And now he is someone who is attracting serious attention from more than Marissa.
This is a big month for Williams. If last Saturday was the most important day in his life, April 26 will be a close second. That is the first day of the NFL draft, and Williams is projected to be selected in the early middle of the first round. Most mock drafts have him being taken 12th by the Broncos or 14th by the Bears.
Williams won't be the first offensive tackle selected. He may not even be the second. Most scouts rate Michigan's Jake Long and Boise State's Ryan Clady ahead of him. But Williams is a self-made man -- his goal going into his senior season at Vanderbilt was simply to be drafted -- and you can bet his remarkable evolution is provoking intense debate about his value in war rooms across the NFL.
Growing -- and growing up
With the click of a mouse, John Sisk brings up a picture on his computer screen. The image, from August 2003, is of a bare-chested, scrawny-looking teen -- if an 18-year-old who weighs 245 pounds can be labeled scrawny -- who could barely lift 185 pounds seven times. The head is big in proportion to the torso, which is why Sisk, Vanderbilt's strength and conditioning coach, nicknamed him "The Human Bobblehead Doll."
This can't be Chris Williams! Not the finely chiseled specimen who now weighs 320 and can bench 225 pounds 25 times. Talk about a metamorphosis.
Bulk, or lack of it, has been an issue for Williams since he started playing football in seventh grade for a parochial school in Port Allen, La., across the Mississippi from Baton Rouge. The league weight limit was 180, and Williams was a few pounds over. So he had to wear an "R" (restricted) sticker on his helmet, which prohibited him from touching the ball as a runner, receiver, quarterback or returner.
At Baton Rouge's Catholic High -- an all-boys school whose alumni include NFL running backs Warrick Dunn and Travis Minor, former University of Texas quarterback Major Applewhite and Carl Weiss, Class of '21 valedictorian, local physician and the man who allegedly assassinated U.S. senator and former Louisiana governor Huey Long -- Williams didn't play any sports as a freshman and didn't start on the varsity football team until his senior year. And that happened only because the incumbent starter failed to attend a mandatory linemen's camp in the summer.
Williams also played baseball and threw the discus in high school. When he was younger, he dreamed of being a pitcher (he could throw two- and four-seam fastballs, a curve and a changeup) and first baseman. But he broke his left wrist in sixth grade while playing kickball, and he never could throw as effectively after that. Then while participating in track as a senior, he caught a virus and his weight fell from 260 to 245.
Even though Williams played in its back yard, LSU had no interest in a two-star, 245-pound prep tackle. Oklahoma State, Northwestern, Georgia Tech, Memphis, Southern Miss and Vanderbilt all recruited Williams, who chose Vandy because he liked Nashville, the campus and Vandy's coaches. He thought Bobby Johnson and his staff were a tight group.
The first time Sisk saw Williams, he figured Williams was a tight end or a linebacker. When he found out Williams was an offensive tackle, Sisk knew he had work to do. He needed to help Williams strengthen both his upper and lower body. "He had quick feet," says Sisk, "but we had to get him strong to where he could take on a bull rush."
Sisk had a plan. He got Williams up to 260 by Thanksgiving and to 280 by Christmas. At that point, they slowed it down a bit -- fewer reps in the weight room, fewer calories at mealtime -- to make sure Williams could handle the additional weight while maintaining his quickness. Then, they amped it up again.
In spring 2004, Williams weighed 290. By preseason camp, he was up to 310 and playing center. He would have started there as a redshirt freshman in '04 had he not run into a different hurdle: He was academically ineligible. Schoolwork had come easily for Williams at Catholic -- he was a member of the National Honor Society and graduated with a 3.9 GPA -- so he focused more on football when he came to Vanderbilt. As a consequence, his computer engineering courses overwhelmed him. "I wasn't ready for that kind of curriculum," says Williams, admitting he was immature at that time.
He also was a bit rebellious. Before the 2005 season, he made one of his infrequent calls home and complained to his mother, Sandres, that Johnson wanted him to cut his Afro. Chris said he wasn't going to do it. Taking the phone from his wife, Joseph Williams said, "It's like this, Chris. Coach Johnson is going to decide who plays. So if your football career is worth the hair, do what you have to do."
A few weeks later, Williams came home to visit -- sans Afro.
"It was like a light went on," says Joseph Williams, an operations department supervisor at an electrical power plant in New Roads, La. "All of a sudden, he grew up and turned into the fine young man we're so proud of today."
As a sophomore in '05, Williams started nine games at left guard but was versatile enough to slide over to le•ft tackle and handle speed rushers in third-and-long situations. He finished out his Vandy career as the starting le•ft tackle in 2006 and '07.
"He really improved over the last two years in his technique," says Blake Beddingfield, the Tennessee Titans' scouting coordinator. "He always knew he had the feet and the athletic ability to move, but now he's really starting to gain that confidence in his strength.
"He's a true let• tackle. And those are rare."
An appetite for success
Other than the bed in his dorm, the weight room is where Williams spent more time than any other place in his first two years at Vandy. Even though it took more than weightli•fting to restructure his body, steroids certainly weren't on the menu. Rapid weight gain of•ten raises the suspicion of the use of illegal substances, but Williams and Sisk both say Williams never used performance enhancers.
No, it's nutrition that played the other integral part in the change in Williams' body. Which brings us to the "Magic" man.
Majid Noori, a chef and food coach who has worked at Vanderbilt for 18 years, prescribed a customized eating program for Williams. Diet would be a misnomer. "It was more 'eat what you want,' " Williams says.
Noori, nicknamed "Magic" by former Vanderbilt football coach Gerry DiNardo, put Williams on a 5,000 calories-per-day plan that included three large meals and at least two snacks. The goal was for Williams to gain muscle and mass but not fat. Bread, potatoes, steak, chicken, shrimp and some desserts were OK; Buffalo wings, a favorite of many football players, and several other dishes were discouraged.
One of the most essential training table items was a 1,000-calorie protein shake created by Magic that consisted of protein powder, whole milk, sliced bananas, ice cream (often Cookies 'n' Cream), honey, almonds and peanut butter. Williams would drink at least two a day. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches were another nutritional staple. "He wasn't a picky eater like some athletes," says Noori, who has worked individually with such Titans players as Eddie George, Keith Bulluck and Jevon Kearse. "He'd listen and you could see he wanted to do everything right. I tried to cook the special foods he liked. Sometimes if I was busy, he'd wait until I could slow down and then he'd get his food from me."
Even though Williams is partial to desserts, especially chocolate ones, and steers clear of most vegetables, don't get the wrong idea about his eating habits. He has a healthy appetite but doesn't gorge.
"He never got too out of the ordinary in one sitting, but throughout the day he could put some stuff away," says Ronnie Swoopes, a former Vanderbilt defensive back and wide receiver who shared an off-campus apartment with Williams for two years.
One day, Swoopes and Williams were shopping for snacks in a Big Lots store when they discovered that Kellogg's Mini-Swirlz cereal was selling for a dollar a box. They thought they'd stock up; Swoopes purchased three boxes and Williams bought a dozen. "They didn't really last that long," says Swoopes.
Hey, a growing man had to maintain his strength.
Brawn -- and brains
In 32 years as a college coach, Robbie Caldwell has worked with young men who became doctors, dentists, lawyers and engineers. But he says Williams is the smartest player he ever has coached.
"He was intrigued by how the game works. He was fascinated by it," says Caldwell, Vanderbilt's assistant head coach and offensive line coach who taught Williams the intricacies of all the positions, not just the offensive line. "You give him a week or two, and basically he could play about any position on the field mentally."
Caldwell showed Williams some tough love during the 2004 season, when Williams was ineligible but could practice with the scout team. He made Williams sit next to him in meetings and constantly reminded him of his obligations to get an education and to help the football team.
This is your fault. This should be you playing here, not that guy, Caldwell would say as they watched tape together. "I wanted him to know how important he was to our program and how good he could be," Caldwell says. "And he took it to heart."
Williams, who graduated last December with a degree in Human and Organizational Development, gave further evidence of his intelligence by scoring 32 on the Wonderlic test at the NFL Scouting Combine in Indianapolis. That certainly didn't hurt his draft status, but his rise on draft boards of most teams was the result of a great senior season, an impressive week at the Senior Bowl in January and his physical performance at the Combine. He benched 225 pounds 21 times and was clocked in 1.75 seconds at 10 yards, 2.91 at 20 and 5.13 at 40. Those times indicate he has good explosiveness off the ball and continues to build to good speed.
Most NFL scouts and coaches have some concerns about Williams, starting with his hand punch and ability to anchor against bull rushes. "It's not that he can't do it. It's just a little inconsistent," says an offensive line coach who worked out Williams in positional drills at Vandy's pro day on March 21.
They also think he needs to be more physical and develop a mean streak. Williams, who is soft-spoken and has a pleasant demeanor off the field, bristles at this criticism.
"Yeah, I'm mean," he insists. "You've got to be mean. I started three years in the Southeastern Conference against top competition. Ask anybody I played against. They'll tell you. ... If they don't think I'm mean, tell them to come line up, and they'll find out."
Not the only athlete
When it comes to sports, Williams must share the limelight with the women in his family. Christine threw the discus, shot put and javelin at St. Joseph's Academy, Catholic's sister school. And Marissa competed in barrel racing, one of the few rodeo events open to women, from when she was 6 until she left home for college.
Marissa, who was born in Memphis and lived off Elvis Presley Boulevard, just a few miles from Graceland, started riding horses when she was 2. Her first pony was a brown and white paint named Snapper. "He had a little edge to him. Anything a horse could do to scare the crap out of you, he did," she says, laughing.
While attending Tennessee State, just a few miles away from Vanderbilt, Marissa wrote three books of poems but never tried to publish any of them. Some of them were about Chris and "how he helped me through my life," she says.
Marissa graduated with a degree in pre-veterinary medicine, loves animals -- she and Chris own a 3-year-old male Jack Russell Terrier-Pomeranian mix named Bam Bam -- and would like to start a pet resort, a combination grooming and lodging business for dogs and cats in the city where they wind up living.
But don't expect horses to be part of the plan if Chris has any say in the matter. Marissa thought Chris climbed up on Snapper once, just to see how it felt to be on a horse, but he denies it. "And I don't plan on it, either," he says.
Williams will stick with football (he also plays softball and bowls recreationally). He grew up a Saints fan -- left tackle Willie Roaf was his favorite player -- and watched them regularly on TV. Surprisingly, he didn't see his first NFL game in person until last December, when he went to Atlanta and watched the Saints play the Falcons in a Monday night game.
Asked what he likes best about playing football, Williams says contact: "Being able to knock people down and not have to go to jail for it is fun."
Soon, he'll start getting paid to do it. What a deal for a guy who was a two-star player coming out of high school.
Now, he says, "I'd like to think I'm a five-star." SN
THIS IS ... CHRIS WILLIAMS
Favorite childhood memory: Hitting a game-winning home run when I was 9 in a little league championship game against a team we hadn't beaten all year.
Nonsports website I visit: IGN.com, which has a lot of online games.
Best advice I've received: There are 31 days in the month and 31 chapters of Proverbs in the Bible. Read one every day.
NFL player I can't wait to play against: Titans defensive end Kyle Vanden Bosch. He'd be a true test: a great player, a big guy physically, and he just never stops going.
Favorite TV shows: Entourage, Overhaulin' and Pinks.
Most influential person in my life: My father, Joseph. He's always been there, and he's a great guy.
Something interesting about me: I have written poetry.
Sibling situation: I have a twin sister, Christine, and everybody always wants to know how big she is. "Is she 6-6, too?" No, she's not 6-6.
