By Mary Kay Cabot
September 9, 2017
Cleveland Browns quarterback DeShone Kizer runs the ball against the New York Giants in the first half at FirstEnergy Stadium. (Joshua Gunter, cleveland.com)
CLEVELAND, Ohio -- DeShone Kizer sat in the Notre Dame quarterback room with his new offensive coordinator Mike Sanford and was completely lost.
His girlfriend, Elli Thatcher, was lying in a hospital bed 271 miles away in Columbus after having a baseball-sized tumor removed from her neck. Kizer, mentally and physically drained from driving and back forth, was third on the Notre Dame depth chart and had just flamed out on cable television in the 2015 spring game.
He decided he might want to quit football, and try college baseball instead. He barely knew Coach Sanford at that point, but he opened up and broke down.
"It was a low point for him,'' said Sanford. "He was really confused and didn't know what to do."
Sanford laid out a plan for Kizer to rededicate himself to football, and Kizer completely bought in.
"When his number was called because of someone else's misfortune, he was ready for it,'' said Sanford. "And the rest is history. Everything he's been through has prepared him for this moment, to be the starting quarterback of the Cleveland Browns."
A different kind of kid
The raising of DeShone Kizer into a potential franchise quarterback, as Hue Jackson describes it, began in Toledo, Ohio, about 100 miles west of Cleveland. The second of four children, Kizer is the son of Derek, a police officer, and Mindy, a court bailiff. Together, they ran a tight ship full of family, academics and sports.
From very early on, Kizer was destined to be a college athlete and possibly a professional one. His dad played basketball at Bowling Green from 1987-91, and went on to play for a season in France. His mom was a three-sport athlete at Toledo's Clyde High and ran track at the University of Toledo.
The Kizers were a hoops family first and foremost, but Derek coached his son in multiple sports, including rec league and AAU basketball from third to seventh grade. From early on, they could tell DeShone was something special, and pushed him hard, both with a ball in his hands and with a pencil.
In sixth grade, he won a spelling bee with the word ''junco."
"I have a lot of nerd in me," he says.
Kizer also discovered at a young age that he was different from most of his peers.
"As a biracial kid growing up in west Toledo, I never really had a select group of guys or girls where I was truly accepted,'' he said. "I either had a different skin tone than the people I was hanging out with on one side, or I was talking too proper for the people that I was hanging out with on the other side."
The differences became more pronounced when he attended Toledo's Central Catholic High School, where he toggled between the rich, suburban kids and his neighborhood friends in the heart of Toledo.
"I was hanging out with my best friends at the top country clubs in the area, but also going back home and playing basketball and hanging out with guys who were not as privileged enough to be going to those same country clubs,'' he said. "It was a blessing in that I was able to relate to a bunch of different styles of people, but also a curse in the sense that I never really felt as if I was like everyone else in the community."
Instead of trying to fit in, Kizer embraced his differences. He listened to country when everyone was into rap. In middle school, when his friends were in T-shirts, shorts and tennis shoes, he wore a shirt and tie to school every day.
"I was trying to do whatever I could to be the valedictorian of my eighth grade,'' he said. "I was probably the nerdiest guy in the school at the time."
With a police officer for a father and a court bailiff for a mother, Kizer had no margin for error.
"They never would've been able to pull the wool over our eyes," said Derek. "We've seen too much. DeShone was the one who would go pick his friends up if they got in trouble."
The message to Kizer and his siblings was the same one handed down by Derek's parents. "You represent the lineage of your last name," he said. "You represent the family and your community. Don't embarrass the family."
From his parents, Kizer also learned a profound sense of community.
"My dad could go get a master's or whatever he wanted, but instead he spent all of his time protecting my community and helping the youth in Toledo," Kizer said. "It's his mission to put kids in a position where they can go do more just like I was able to and not end up on the streets."
Derek's story drives his son every day and reminds him of his roots.
"He didn't have much growing up,'' said Kizer. "What he did have was a ball and an opportunity and he made the most of it. ... He never boasted about his basketball career. I had to get those stories from everyone else."
When Kizer was in elementary school, his dad sat him down and told him the same thing his father had told him. You have two choices after high school: Find a way to pay for college; or join the military. Kizer had no desire to shoot or be shot. So college was the plan, and sports would be his meal ticket.
"But we were very geared first toward the education portion," said Derek. "For them to be able to participate in sports, grades came first."
In the Kizer household, everything was earned, not given. Once, when Kizer lost his wallet at Notre Dame and the $170 that was in it, his parents made him come home over break and earn it back by helping to build a deck, mowing the lawn and laying down some sod.
"I thought my parents would be upset that someone who picked up my wallet didn't return it and I never got a call,'' said Kizer. "Instead, they were more upset with me that I lost my wallet. They made me work for every dime that was in there."
Toledo Central Catholic beckons
Kizer's high school football coach, Greg Dempsey, now the athletic director at Central Catholic, was blown away by the eighth-grade Kizer, who was carefully deciding where to attend high school.
"He wasn't intimidated talking to a varsity football coach," he said. "He'd ask questions, expand upon answers. It wasn't normal for a kid his age."
Initially, Derek thought his son would follow in his footsteps and play mid-major Division I college basketball, but "things changed and he found his niche and followed his heart.''
He also followed the bright lights of big-time college football.
"He knew after about his freshman year that he wanted to play on the biggest stage on the college level," said Derek. "He knew based on his recruitment that football was going to be his biggest avenue, so he put his focus on that."
Kizer still starred in three sports in high school, leading the varsity basketball team to the Ohio Division II Final Four as a freshman point guard -- at 6-5, 230 pounds -- and playing outfield and hitting cleanup on the baseball team.
"As time went on, it became apparent that he could go big-time in football," said Dempsey. "I still have coaches mad at me that I didn't start him as a freshman."
By the time Kizer was a sophomore, Dempsey knew he had a phenom on his hands.
"One day, the coaches were sitting in the office talking after practice,'' said Dempsey. "I said 'Fellas, I've never coached one so I can't say for sure, but I have to imagine this is what NFL quarterbacks look like as a sophomore in high school.'"
His junior year, Kizer led the Central Catholic Fighting Irish to a 14-1 record and the Division II state title, the school's first since 2005. As a senior, his team went 12-0 but lost in the playoffs. Still, Kizer threw for 30 touchdowns and 6 interceptions that year, and rushed for 539 yards and 6 TDs.
"He was something to see,'' said Dempsey.
With a dual-threat superstar on his hands, Dempsey learned the spread offense from then-University of Toledo head coach Matt Campbell.
"We needed to utilize DeShone's talents,'' said Dempsey. "We threw more and more every year he played. He was able to throw it on the run downfield 40-50 yards. He had a rifle."
Fans came out in droves, and so did college coaches.
"It was a spectacle," said Dempsey. "I'd never seen anything like it. Almost all of the biggest colleges in the country came to watch him throw. The scrutiny they put a QB under was intense, and he handled it really well.''
They came from Notre Dame, LSU, Alabama, Michigan, Ohio State, North Carolina, Arkansas -- you name it.
"It was a Who's Who of college football,'' said Dempsey. "The Big Ten all offered."
LSU and Alabama were leading the way at one point, but Kizer felt the tug of Notre Dame, not just for the football but the education.
"He wasn't happy with how he threw the day Notre Dame was there," Dempsey said. "He called them and said, 'You've guys have got to stop back in and watch me throw again.' They came back out and he did really well and they said, 'Get to campus this Sunday because we're moving on this.'
"The Kizers were so impressed they canceled their last visit to another school."
Said Derek: "Our thing was academics first, then football and then proximity. We wanted to watch him play in person."
Despite his football status, Kizer was much more than just a sports star at Central Catholic. He was in student government, and on the Sideline Spirit team which organized pep rallies for football and basketball games.
"I was a geek," said Kizer.
He was also one of five finalists for "Super Fella'' at the Sadie Hawkins Dance, delivering a compelling speech and ripping off his buttoned-down shirt to reveal a cutoff Superman T-shirt.
"I won, but DeShone put on a good show,'' said his long-time best friend Ryan O'Hearn, who plays baseball at Hillsdale College in Michigan. Kizer's intelligence, both on the field and in the classroom, were evident back then.
"He helped me with my physics and chemistry," said O'Hearn. "And when I say he helped me, we'll just leave it at that."
On to Notre Dame
Kizer redshirted his freshman year, and then became preoccupied with his girlfriend's cancer during spring ball. Thatcher, his high school sweetheart from Toledo, discovered the tumor near the base of her skull in the spring of 2015 while attending Ohio State. She called Kizer out of a study session to deliver the news: The tumor would have to be removed.
At 19, Kizer made the 271-mile trek to Columbus almost every weekend. He also contributed to Thatcher's blog.
"Although my physical presence is out on the practice field and in the meeting room, my mind never leaves her," he wrote in an entry on March 25. "I thought that maybe football would be my getaway, but in all honestly it becomes some of the worst times of sadness."
Thatcher had surgery two days before the spring game that year, with Kizer by her side. But the procedure took longer than expected -- 17 hours -- and he dragged himself back to South Bend for the game, during which Everett Golson and Malik Zaire battled for the starting job.
"DeShone had an absolutely horrible spring game,'' recalled Sanford. "He went in for some garbage time and it was just not good."
Kizer completed one of five attempts for three yards and was sacked for a safety. His struggles were captured on NBC Sports Network for all fans to see.
"After that, he just felt like, 'What does my future look like with this sport?'" said Sanford, who received a postgame text from Kizer saying he has hit rock bottom. "He seriously contemplated quitting and playing college baseball."
Sanford, now the head football coach at Western Kentucky, laid out a plan for Kizer that included transforming body and mind. He and Thatcher eventually parted as friends, and Kizer rededicated himself to the game.
"For 2 1/2 months, he literally only ate chicken, rice and vegetables and came back into the 2015 summer camp with a completely different body-type and mindset,'' said Sanford. "He outplayed Malik Zaire in training camp some of the days that we had. Malik started the opener against Texas and played well, but DeShone was fully ready to go when his name was called upon in that Virginia game.''
With the Irish leading Virginia 19-14 late in the third quarter, Zaire broke his ankle, and Kizer entered as a redshirt freshman. He handed off to a running back on his first play for a TD and then threw the game-winning 39-yard TD pass to Will Fuller with 12 seconds remaining.
"The rest of that season is history," said Sanford.
With Zaire out for the season and Golson transferred to Florida State, Kizer led the Irish on a wild ride, going 8-3 as a starter. The season ended in the Fiesta Bowl with a 44-28 loss to a star-studded Ohio State team.
Along the way, threw for 2,880 yards and 21 TDs, and rushed for 525 yards and 10 more scores. In a 42-30 victory over Pitt, he accounted for all six TDs -- five passing and one rushing.
"He was truly a competitive, win-at-all-costs, take hits, throw-the-ball-under-duress quarterback,'' said Sanford. "You could tell him something once, and he got it. I loved going into battle with him. He showed in that Virginia game and throughout that season that he had the drive and toughness to be a championship-level quarterback."
Not so fast
When Kizer returned for spring football in 2016, Notre Dame coach Brian Kelly made him compete for the starting job with a healthy Zaire. They platooned in the opening game against Texas.
"It was a hard situation for everybody involved," said Sanford. "In 2015 Malik Zaire played lights-out against Texas. Statistically he had one of the best days for a QB in the history of ND football. For him to lose his job the next week for the remainder of his career, that's a hard situation to navigate for coach Kelly, myself, DeShone and Malik.''
Kizer briefly beat out Zaire, but was benched in October during a lost season. The sideline tension between Kizer and Kelly was well-documented, and the Irish finished with one of the worst records in school history at 4-8.
But Sanford attributes the bad year in part to six players getting arrested a week before the opener and their defensive coordinator being let go a quarter into the season. The Irish also graduated most of their star receivers.
"It was a year of adversity for every single one of us,'' Sanford said. "We all had our hand in us going 4-8.''
In retrospect, Sanford believes the down year will serve Kizer better than the success of 2015.
"Life in the NFL is not going to be 16-0 every year,'' he said.
At the NFL Combine in February, Kizer owned the record, saying 4-8 and everything he endured that year was his "biggest advantage."
Seeing red in the Green Room
Kizer bolted Notre Dame with two years of eligibility remaining. Kelly made clear his opinion that Kizer wasn't ready for the NFL, either on or off the field. He did offer that Kizer had the "most upside" of the draft-eligible QBs, but the NFL may have listened to the first part.
Kizer went to Philadelphia for the NFL Draft, and sat in the green room with his family, Kelly and Dempsey, his high school coach. The first round came and went with only three QBs off the board: Mitch Trubisky at No. 2, Patrick Mahomes at No. 10 and Deshaun Watson at No. 12.
"It was tough to have to watch him go through it,'' said Dempsey. "He was one of two players there who didn't get drafted in the first round."
Derek and Mindy stepped in and set him straight.
"We said, 'This is not your funeral. This not execution day. There's another day,'" recalled Derek. "'You will go to the NFL, just not when you wanted to.'"
The Kizers went back to Toledo and hosted a party at a downtown hotel. When the call came from the Browns at No. 52, tears flowed throughout the room.
"He was ecstatic,'' said Derek. "It was a dream come true. Early on in the draft process, he said, 'How great would it be for me to be drafted by the Cleveland Browns?' Lo and behold, they call him. He was like, 'Dad, it's the Cleveland Browns,' and we were like 'Oh my goodness!'"
Derek, the son of rabid Browns fans, had favored the Eagles because of a comparison to former Eagles receiver Harold Carmichael as a youngster, but his extended family still bleeds orange and brown.
"My mom (Shirley Kizer) is enjoying every minute of it,'' said Derek. "It's surreal to have her for her name, and her grandson's name, on the back of a Cleveland Browns jersey.''
As at Notre Dame, Kizer had to fight for the job in Cleveland. Finally, after the third preseason game, he won it over Brock Osweiler and Cody Kessler with his rocket arm, nimble feet and computer-like processing speed. He called his parents and asked them to both get on the phone.
"I get goosebumps thinking about it,'' said Derek. "His mom's mouth dropped and we tried to play it cool, like 'We knew that. We expected it.'"
Kizer makes his debut Sunday at FirstEnergy Stadium against the Steelers. He's determined to be the last Browns quarterback's name that veteran left tackle Joe Thomas ever has to remember. He also hopes that the famous Browns jersey with all the QB names since 1999 won't go out of style for a long, long time now that his has been added.
"You see that list grow and grow and grow," Kizer said. "You hear people and the chatter throughout my whole community. Now to be on that list and hopefully end that list will be an awesome situation for me."
He also plans to do whatever it takes to make sure he never again feels the hurt felt in the green room.
Last season after watching Kizer rip the ball through the icy winds in South Bend against Virginia Tech, Sanford told a Browns scout that Kizer was the man for them -- one who could handle the gusts coming off Lake Erie and the rugged AFC North defenses.
"He has right body type to handle everything that comes with NFL, particularly in the northern divisions,'' said Sanford, who coached Andrew Luck at Stanford. "And he's got some similarities to the guy that's going to play quarterback for Pittsburgh -- the body-type, the athleticism, the toughness, ability to improvise outside the pocket.''
Sanford also knows first-hand from that day in the Notre Dame QB room that Kizer has been through enough adversity to handle the demands of the position.
"I think Cleveland is going to be very happy with their new quarterback,'' he said.
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