Stafon Johnson's Whispers Speak Volumes At Senior Bowl
No, he’s not a Heisman Trophy winner nor a BCS bowl phenom.
There are no famous speeches or eye-black covered in Bible verses.
While the Senior Bowl hype continues to engulf Tim Tebow, Stafon Johnson simply takes the handoff and runs.
He makes a cut here, a juke there, before completing his run in the end zone. Football never felt so good before.
“Is this fun?” Miami Dolphins head coach Tony Sparano asked Johnson.
No. 13 on the South squad paused, smiled, and then answered his coach in a hushed tone, “You can’t believe how much fun this is.”
Four months ago, Johnson laid in a hospital bed wondering if he was ever going to speak again.
The kid from USC was lucky to be wondering anything.
After scoring a touchdown to help his Trojans beat Washington State last September, Johnson returned to practice the following Monday like he would any other week.
Only a few hours later, though, Johnson was undergoing a life-saving surgery at California Hospital Medical Center after a weightlifting accident.
As the story goes, Johnson was bench pressing in the USC weight room. He was lifting the usual amount of weight (approximately 275 pounds) and had an assistant strength and conditioning coach spotting him.
None of it mattered when the bar came crashing down on Johnson’s throat as he struggled to breathe.
The impact crushed Johnson’s larynx. How many breaths remained nobody knew.
After being rushed into emergency surgery, doctors cut a hole in Johnson’s neck and inserted a tube into his air pipe so he could breathe. That was the easy part.
The challenge for Dr. Gudata Hinika, the hospital’s trauma director, was to piece Johnson’s larynx back together in a surgery that took more than seven hours to complete.
Less than two months later, Johnson spoke.
“God has a plan,” he said, “Run, Stafon, run.”
It was the faintest of voices and the simplest of sentences, but it was a sign of recovery none-the-less. By mid-November, Johnson was able to swallow and eat solid food again.
To Johnson, it wasn’t a miracle. He knew he would get through the rehab, he knew he would speak again, and he knew he would return to football. It was just a matter of when.
The doctors, however, were shocked.
“Anyone looking at him today would say it’s a miracle,” said Dr. Jason Hamilton, a throat specialist, in November. “He never put limitations on himself, and that’s why he’s making great strides.”
What is even more remarkable than Johnson’s recovery is his determination, attitude and sense of humor.
Shortly after Johnson spoke for the first time, doctors presented him with a choice. They could do another operation on his wind pipe in an effort to give him an enhanced ability to breathe, or they could perform a different operation that would improve the strength behind his raspy voice.
Johnson, comfortable with the reality that he may have to whisper words for the rest of his life, chose the operation that could improve his breathing. “Hey, I’m not a singer,” said Johnson, smiling.
There was a time a few years ago when Johnson was a hot prospect out of Dorsey High in Los Angeles, Calif., and he dreamt of becoming a star at USC, too.
Like most kids that commit to the Trojans, the plan was to spend three great years in college improving their games and impressing scouts before leaping at NFL riches.
As Johnson sprints on the field at Ladd-Peebles Stadium in Mobile, Ala., this week, the meaningless concerns of draft speculation are gone.
When asked where he thinks he stacks up against the other running backs in the draft, Johnson seemed like he couldn’t care less.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I’m just here to play football.”
Just here to play football.
That’s not something Tebow can say. Tebow, dealing with strep throat, has spent the week trying to prove to pro scouts that he can play under center in the NFL and make the required throws despite average arm strength and an unorthodox delivery.
That’s not something LeGarrette Blount can say, either. Blount still has to answer maturity questions reverberating from his sucker punch at Boise State last September.
Blount was immediately suspended for the rest of the season, but was reinstated nearly two months later by Pac-10 Conference Commissioner Larry Scott after showing good behavior and a commitment to change.
When the Oregon Ducks advanced to the Rose Bowl, people still wanted to ask Blount some questions. But Blount was nowhere to be found at Oregon’s Rose Bowl media day. Fairly or unfairly, some people still want some answers.
Johnson, meanwhile, doesn’t face the same pressure. Sure, the speculation is still there. Johnson was projected as a mid-round pick before his injury, and NFL teams still want to know what he can offer their organizations.
By making a return to the field, Johnson has proved more about his character than any football-related challenge could have. He showed heart, resilience and faith.
“I can’t say enough about his will,” said Gene Smith, GM of the Jacksonville Jaguars. “I’m a firm believer that will wins more than physical skill.”
The Senior Bowl will come Saturday, and Johnson will play his first game since nearly losing his life.
His whispers won’t be heard on the field, but his presence will.
For a man that knows what it’s like to communicate only through white boards and text messages, Johnson’s picture is worth much more than a thousand words.
It’s a testament to courage. It’s proof of the power of faith.
Is this fun, Stafon?
Johnson can respond now, but there just aren’t any words to describe it.
Follow Teddy Mitrosilis on Twitter . You can reach him at tm4000@yahoo.com.










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