Post-Dispatch: Clayborn stands tall for Iowa Hawkeyes

Celebrity status can have its drawbacks in a college town such as Iowa City, where a guy stands out when he tops off an imposing 6-foot-4, 285-pound body with a raging mop of dreadlocks.

Yet, it's a place where Iowa defensive end Adrian Clayborn opted to spend another year after an unfortunate series of events coincided with his emergence as first-round draft material.

The St. Louis Webster Groves High product could have escaped, maybe made millions this season in the NFL. Instead, Clayborn stuck with the Iowa Hawkeyes, who are ranked No. 10 in the preseason coaches' poll.

He stayed despite the stalker, the cab driver and the agents.

"I'm just finishing what I started," Clayborn said. "I knew if I came back I'd have a better chance of being ready. I could have left but wouldn't have been true to myself."

Clayborn took a giant step last season with his 11 ½ sacks and Orange Bowl MVP award. He is beloved for his work with kids, surprising even coach Kirk Ferentz after making a two-hour drive to rural Albia, Iowa, to hang out with school children for a day last spring.

But the Lombardi Award and Nagurski Trophy candidate also has dealt with some unpleasant aspects of his popularity.

An incident with a cabbie, whom Clayborn allegedly punched, became big news and concluded with Clayborn pleading guilty to a reduced charge of disorderly conduct earlier this year. He said he was provoked when the driver used the N-word.

In the midst of that case, Clayborn was the target of a female stalker on the streets of Iowa City and at Kinnick Stadium for several months. Brittney Mears eventually was sentenced to 30 days in jail and ordered not to make contact with Clayborn for five years.

"There's a lot of weird stuff that happens in life," Ferentz said. "Some becomes public, some doesn't, and if you're a prominent player it becomes a little more public. ". . . But my Kodak moment with him is the things he does with kids at Children's Hospital. He's a stellar guy."

Feeling detached and somewhat helpless amid the hoopla, Clayborn's mother, Tracie, moved to Iowa City this year. She finds herself handling constant calls from prospective agents, having talked with about 30 thus far.

The interest is sure to grow if Clayborn matches his production of last season. Some early NFL mock drafts project him as a middle first-round pick, and he has even generated mentions as a Heisman Trophy candidate with multiple Facebook groups dedicated to his promotion.

Tracie Clayborn knew of the close relationship between her son and Iowa faithful before relocating. But the point was driven home when fans, both young and old, started asking her for autographs.

"If they know I'm his mom, they come up and say, 'I love your son. I'm so glad he stayed another year,' " she said. "At the team scrimmage, kids asked for my autograph. At the Orange Bowl a few people asked. I was surprised, but people said just sign, so I did."

She is now her son's biggest fan after refusing to let him play football through most of his youth. Clayborn was born 11 pounds, 3 ounces and with Erb's palsy, a condition that affects nerves in the arm and can sometimes create paralysis.

His rehabilitation began as an infant, and he dealt with the problem throughout childhood. However, he was able to avoid the surgeries that many children need to correct the issue.

"Doctors always told me he should never play contact sports," Tracie said. "Me being a mom, I was scared. I didn't want my son to get hurt, so I wouldn't let him play."

Clayborn said he remains restricted in some of his motions when lifting weights but that he is otherwise unaffected.

Even if he could have played youth football, Clayborn was too big for the JFL's weight limit. So he lived vicariously through his older brother, James Jenkins, who started the sport at age 7 and became a successful quarterback at Webster Groves, earning first-team All-Metro honors in 2001.

Clayborn finally persuaded his mother to let him play in the eighth grade. A year later Statesmen coach Cliff Ice used him in a varsity scrimmage and began imagining his potential.

"He had his growing pains," Ice said. "But his freshman year we talked about how if he progressed like the average kid what kind of player he was going to be. He's certainly done that."

Clayborn was a huge, physical linebacker and tight end in high school, but he was athletic enough that Ice used him as a wide receiver at times, creating fits for opponents. He was named the Post-Dispatch defensive player of the year in 2005.

He saw limited time as a freshman at Iowa and didn't become a full-time starter until 2009. Possibly his biggest moment came during a prime-time, nationally televised game at Penn State when he blocked a punt and returned it 53 yards for a score, igniting a 21-10 comeback win.

Clayborn capped the season with a career-best nine solo tackles - two for losses - and two sacks at the Orange Bowl. He was named MVP in the Hawkeyes' 24-14 win over Georgia Tech.

If his personal issues were a distraction, Clayborn didn't let it show on the field.

The incident with the cab driver occurred in January 2009 and lingered for more than a year. The cabbie had honked at Clayborn and then used the racial slur, Clayborn said last week.

"I knew taking that situation to another level was not smart," he said. "I would rather not put it all out there, but there were words exchanged that some people shouldn't say."

Ferentz investigated and backed his player, declining to institute disciplinary action. Clayborn was fined $100.

That case concluded after he dealt with months of harassment by Mears, who he repeatedly saw drive past his home and workplace. Each instance was reported to the police until the situation came to a head.

After several warnings, Mears sat directly behind the Iowa bench at a home game and targeted Clayborn verbally.

"When it came out in court, it was mind boggling how much she did," Clayborn said. "It was a little creepy. Scary more than creepy."

All the while, Tracie Clayborn was in St. Louis, unnerved by her inability to help her son. The stalking situation was made more stressful by the memory of her oldest son, Anthony, who was murdered in 1999, when Adrian was 10.

"When your child is miles away and you can't get to them, you kind of panic," she said. "He would call and say, 'Mom, she's just down the street.' I felt I needed to be there. You really don't know if she's just playing around or going to hurt (him)."

These days she spends time focused on a more uplifting - albeit annoying - issue. Scouts call with regularity. At first she was willing to spend an hour or more on the phone but has learned to cut them short and file the notes for later use.

She's happy to do it now that Adrian is committed to finishing school before going pro. Equally thrilled is Ferentz, who said he never talked to Clayborn about the NFL decision but thinks he knows why he stayed.

"He likes college football, his teammates and Iowa City, and I think he has some individual goals," Ferentz said. "We don't talk about that and I don't ask. But he's a prideful guy and wants to be recognized as being the best, and I support him in that."

- By Stu Durando, St. Louis Post-Dispatch - Shared by the Associated Press