It was a remarkable time in the life of young Kwame Harris. One by one last winter, the nation's top college football coaches were showing up on his front porch, wiping their feet and being polite to his mom. Penn State's Joe Paterno came. So did Michigan's Lloyd Carr. By the time Harris was ready to make a decision about where he would play as a college freshman, he had received 32 scholarship offers.
Small wonder. Harris is a remarkable young man. At 6-foot-7 and 325 pounds, the 17-year-old from Newark, Del., was the most coveted lineman in the country. And there's more to Kwame (rhymes with fame) Harris than flattening defensive tackles. He has studied classical piano for 11 years and violin for five. He was an honors student with a 3.6 GPA at Newark High School, where he took four advanced-placement classes his senior year. After playing football, he wants to become a surgeon. "A strong academic reputation is what I was looking for in college," says the soft-spoken Harris. "And I wanted to play on a football team with people who aren't just jocks."
So when he flew to Stanford in January to join a group of recruits for a weekend campus tour, Harris was as interested in the academic offerings as he was in the athletic program. Tyrone Willingham himself met Harris at San Francisco International Airport. The coach talked about everything but football. He emphasized Stanford's intellectual offerings, its depth and breadth.
Not that Willingham needed to apologize for the football team's potential in 2000-2001. True, the team lost some of its marquee players to graduation -- most noticeably wide receiver Troy Walters and quarterback Todd Husak -- but a dozen starters are returning and a crop of highly talented younger athletes will vie for the open spots. "What we have this season," Willingham says, "is a new look, new leaders and team chemistry that has yet to be developed." Harris left campus impressed but not quite ready to commit to Stanford.
That explains why Willingham and offensive line coach Tom Brattan found themselves driving through a Delaware snowstorm last January 25, making the pilgrimage so many other coaches had made. Harris invited the men into the living room, where they sat with his family and his high school coach and talked about the difficult decision. His mom, Cordel, excused herself and left the room. The recruiting process had been grueling, Harris explained, but he had finally made up his mind. That's when Cordel Harris reappeared. She was wearing a sweatshirt that read "Stanford Mom."
--Tim Kane, '03
