Henry, football wonder, couldn't say no

DENVER - Travis Henry always seemed destined for greatness.

In high school, he won a spot on his varsity football team as a sophomore and spent all his free time, even holidays, bulking up in the weight room.

He set a national rushing record as a high schooler in football-crazy Florida and was recruited to the University of Tennessee, a national powerhouse.

There, Henry continued to dominate and, as a sophomore running back, was part of a national championship team. By 2001, Henry had made the big time, drafted into the NFL as a second-round pick for the Buffalo Bills.

“He had a drive to make it,” said Richie Marsh, who coached Henry at Florida’s Frostproof High School. “That’s why he did what he did in athletics. He had an unbelievable drive when he knew what he wanted to do.”

But, somehow, everything fell apart.

Henry battled injuries, and the NFL suspended him for failing a drug test. He fathered nine children by nine different women, and court papers say he is a free spender unable to manage money.

By the time Henry was picked up by the Denver Broncos in 2007, his off-field antics had clouded his career. He missed practices and, in June, was on the verge of a one-year suspension for a new violation of the NFL’s substance abuse policy.

The Broncos let him go. And just three months later, Henry was arrested — accused of being the ruthless “money guy” in a cocaine trafficking ring. If convicted of federal drug trafficking charges, he could spend the rest of his life in prison.

“Of course, he’s made a lot of bad decisions,” said Marsh, who has kept in touch with Henry.

“The money and the fame took him away, and, bam, here we go.”

Free on bond, Henry now spends his days under house arrest at his condominium on a golf course in Aurora.

He declined to comment for this story.

But, clearly, it’s been a humiliating fall for the kid from Frostproof who seemingly had it all and threw it away.

Dark side of limelight

Unfortunately, experts say, nobody should be surprised when the lives of athletes and others in the limelight fail to match the public perception.

After all, professional athletes “put their pants on one leg at a time, just like you and me,” and they can give in to the same “tawdry impulses” as anyone else, said Steven Pitt, a nationally-known forensic psychiatrist based in Scottsdale, Ariz.

“We elevate these people, and we think that just because they’re getting all this adulation and have all this notoriety and have all this attention thrust on them that, gee, everything must be terrific and wouldn’t it be great to be them. Well, that’s just not the case,” Pitt said. “The reality is many people pay a huge price for fame and notoriety.”

Pitt, who is not involved with the Henry case, said professional athletes are a microcosm of society — struggling with all same demons, be it gambling or womanizing or drinking, just on a larger scale.

If someone already has self-destructive personality traits, he said, money and fame only fuel the problem.

And while top-level athletes may find it intoxicating to constantly be in the spotlight and be surrounded by people who tell them how terrific they are, reality is “that becomes a very lonely existence,” Pitt said. “And it becomes a very narrow existence because you don’t have the usual checks and balances that other people have.

“To think that these individuals can’t or won’t succumb to these other temptations or behaviors is just ridiculous.”

Even so, Henry’s downfall was precipitous.

Nicknamed ‘Cheese’

Henry, 30, grew up in Frostproof, a small town in central Florida where oranges are the major industry and football was king.

Marsh remembers the town was blessed with a lot of good athletes. Henry was among them. He started off on the defensive line, as a nose guard, and also played fullback on offense.

But Henry wanted to run the ball and once it was in his hands, “the rest is history,” Marsh said.

In 1996, Henry broke a national high school record, rushing for an incredible 4,087 yards as a senior. Suddenly, he was immensely popular.

Marsh said he noticed something then that would come to define the young player’s adult life: Henry couldn’t say no. Not to anybody.

“When you do that, you can only imagine,” Marsh said. “You’re setting the high school rushing record at a small town in Florida where football is everything. Now everybody is your friend. Prior to him being a great running back, he had his group of friends, some kids that were some awesome character people. Next thing you know everybody is hanging around Trav.”

In high school, Henry was the type of player who didn’t care when he broke the national rushing record because his team was still losing. When he got the game ball, he gave it to his offensive line.

He wasn’t thinking yet about the NFL. He was just thrilled to be able to keep playing in college.

To qualify for the scholarship, he had to take eight core classes in just 11/2 years. With six-period days, that meant Henry had to take summer school both before his senior year and after he had graduated. He passed all the classes.

At Tennessee, Henry set career records for carries (556), yards (3,078) and 100-yard games (14). A teammate nicknamed him “Cheese” because he was built like a block of cheese and hard to tackle, according to the Tennessee Titans’ Web site.

Henry went on to play four seasons with the Buffalo Bills and two with the Tennessee Titans before signing as a free agent with the Broncos in 2007.

It was a disappointing season. Sidelined by injuries, Henry finished with 691 yards, four touchdowns and only four carries over the Broncos’ final two games.

He rushed for 6,086 yards and 38 touchdowns in his career.

But, glory aside, an NFL career can be a “recipe for disaster” for some players, said Martin Chase, a retired NFL player who remembers Henry. Suddenly, they have millions of dollars and celebrity status, coupled with all the normal adult responsibilities and no more parental supervision.

“Just because you have money doesn’t mean you’re going to be a man who makes the right choices,” Chase said. “You’re twenty-something-years-old and you have millions of dollars, and you can do what you want or tell people to do what you want. Everybody’s coming after the money. You’re always called a superstar.

“There’s so much pressure behind the scenes that you have to face every day.”

Tackled by problems

Off the field, Henry’s life did show signs of trouble.

In 2005, Henry was suspended for four games for violating the NFL’s substance abuse policy.

In 2007, a Georgia court ordered Henry to pay $3,000 a month in child support for one of his nine children and to set up a $250,000 trust to ensure future payments. Court papers show Henry was grossing nearly $50,000 a month but squandering the money on things like a $100,000 car and gold jewelry costing $146,000.

On one occasion, the Titans loaned Henry $9,800 to pay past-due child support, the court records say.

Later in 2007, Henry successfully challenged a second failed drug test for marijuana after he passed a lie-detector test and submitted a hair sample that tested negative for the drug.

When Henry talked to Marsh in early June, he told his old coach he was getting “back on the right track.” He said he had taken a pay cut to stay with the Broncos.

“I kinda thought that everything was heading in the right direction,” Marsh said. “But there again, I’d look around and I’d see the company he was keeping, and I’d think, ‘How? How can you make these decisions and have these acquaintances?’ But he was a man and old enough to make these decisions.”

Within days of that conversation, the Broncos cut Henry.

At the time, Broncos coach Mike Shanahan said Henry was “just too inconsistent as a person.”

The bottom had dropped out for Travis Henry. For the first time in his life, football had been taken away from him.

What happened next is a “totally logical step,” Pitt said. Given “pre-existing personality problems” and then the loss of all the fame and everything that came with it, it’s “not a huge leap” for someone to resort to engaging in transgressions that are unlawful, unwise, or even dangerous.

“I don’t care how fast they run,” Pitt said. “They can be the fastest runner in the world and still exercise incredibly poor judgment and be impulsive and irresponsible and, frankly, stupid.”

Police arrested Henry in Centennial on Sept. 30 after he and James Mack, 29, allegedly received 11 pounds of cocaine in a federal sting operation. Court records say Henry threatened to kill two accomplices and their families if they didn’t repay $40,000 in stolen drug money.

The case began in Montana on Sept. 16, when the Drug Enforcement Administration and state police stopped drug couriers on Interstate 90. The DEA says it then recorded six conversation an informant had with Henry or Mack about the cocaine deal that, in part, was supposedly arranged to repay the ex-Bronco $40,000 in lost drug money.

Trial is set for January in Billings, Mont.

It seems clear that Henry’s professional football career is over. But Marsh, his old coach, doesn’t see this as the end to Henry’s story. Rather, he said, it’s a turning point for the kid from Frostproof who couldn’t say no.

“He’s on his knees now,” Marsh said. “Now it’s hard. Everywhere he goes, you know how people are going to look at him.

“I’m not saying it isn’t deserved. What he’s got to get up from now, you’ve got to be really special. But I think he can make it,” said Marsh.

“He’s at his best when all the odds are against him.”