The Extraordinary Odyssey Of Harold Jones-Quartey........
Nov 11, 2016 7:01:37 GMT -6
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Post by Deleted on Nov 11, 2016 7:01:37 GMT -6
Inside the extraordinary odyssey of Bears safety Harold Jones-Quartey
Dan Wiederer Contact Reporter Chicago Tribune
Harold Jones-Quartey remembers the bright yellow wrapper. One fun-size bag of Peanut M&M's.
That was often the reward, the gold medal dangled by his dad for the races held so many mornings at his grandmother's compound in West Africa.
Down the driveway to the front gate. Harold versus his older brother Danny. Cutthroat every time.
And those M&M's, even with just one bag and only 10 or 11 peanuts inside, offered incentive.
"In Ghana," Jones-Quartey said, "that is like a treasure."
So much, in fact, that Jones-Quartey would proudly bring his prize to school to share, even though 11 M&M's quickly became eight, then seven, then six.
And immediately after those occasions when he dug deep to defeat Danny?
"My brother would kick my ass," the Bears safety said. "And my dad would let him. He'd stand there and watch my brother beat my ass for winning. He wanted to instill that competitiveness in us early."
Those races, with all their intensity and the drive they inspired, somehow began Jones-Quartey's extraordinary odyssey, a patience-testing yet passion-fueled journey from Ghana to the NFL.
Jones-Quartey's next stop — Bears vs. Buccaneers, Sunday in Tampa, Fla. — will take him back to the site of his biggest career breakthrough. Last December, in a 26-21 Bears win at Raymond James Stadium, Jones-Quartey was the defensive standout. Four tackles, two pass breakups, an interception plus a forced fumble.
It's a performance the 23-year-old still cherishes but never without qualifying his pride. Snippets of success can never become satisfaction.
"That was last year," Jones-Quartey said this week. "I've got to be making more plays right now."
Last winter, while crossing the bridge between his rookie year and his first true NFL offseason, Jones-Quartey consulted with Bears safeties coach Sam Garnes on his development. Garnes, a fifth-round pick by the Giants in 1997 who went on to start for seven seasons, spoke from experience. He wanted Jones-Quartey to know it was fine to appreciate the opportunity he'd been given to crack the starting lineup as an undrafted rookie.
But more than that, Garnes wanted Jones-Quartey to squeeze every drop of potential from his opening.
"We have a lot of people whose jobs are at stake," Garnes said. "A lot of people are depending on you. So there's no time to loosen up. You have to be on it."
Jones-Quartey nodded. But in the back of his mind, he also wondered if Garnes truly knew who he was talking to.
After all it took to get here? After traversing a dizzying path that no player has ever tried — from Ghana to high school club football to Division II Findlay University and on to the NFL?
Take this dream for granted?
"That's not me," Jones-Quartey said. "Nothing has ever been promised to me."
So how does he describe the ambition that fuels him and why he's so grateful for every opportunity?
"Because I remember," Jones-Quartey said. "That's as easy as I can explain it. I remember."
Jaguars wide receiver Marqise Lee tries to get away from Harold Jones-Quartey, right, during a game at Soldier Field on Sunday, Oct. 16, 2016. (Jeff Haynes / AP)
The long and winding road
Jones-Quartey remembers a happy if complicated childhood in Ghana. His parents were never married. And his mom moved to the United States when Harold was an infant. Still, Jones-Quartey found contentment in his village, in the youthful energy that existed and in the pickup soccer games that fed his competitive hunger.
When Harold was 9, his mother returned to Ghana to bring him and Danny to the U.S.
Jones-Quartey's first meal upon touching down in New York was at McDonald's.
"A McDouble with fries," he said. "It was like heaven. I thought it was so much food."
Once settled in Ohio, Jones-Quartey's enjoyment of soccer quickly transformed into an intense obsession with football. He loved the game the first time he played it, when his cousin told him that the guy with the ball was fair game.
"He told me, 'Harold, listen man, you can hit people here,'" Jones-Quartey said. "I was like, 'Say no more.'"
Jones-Quartey remembers his admiration for Panthers receiver Steve Smith, a 5-foot-9, 185-pound stick of dynamite who seemed to have his wick crackling every play. Something about Smith's fearless edge felt familiar, the kind of tenacity Jones-Quartey exhibited through his first two high school seasons at Westerville South in Columbus.
But when Jones-Quartey's stepdad left unannounced and his family was forced to move to make ends meet, his mother enrolled him at Horizon Science Academy.
It was a vexing diversion given the school didn't have a football program. Yet against his mother's wishes, Jones-Quartey continued pursuing his passion and joined the Columbus Crusaders, a club team that drew players from all over.
Jones-Quartey remembers the bus rides. Multiple transfers. Sometimes more than an hour one way. Then a half-mile run. All just to get to practice.
Brian Stier, the Crusaders coach, quickly saw Jones-Quartey's dynamic playmaking ability as a receiver and return man. Equally impressive, though, was his commitment — to be at every practice, to better understand the game, to pursue his dream.
And even after Division I schools didn't come swooning, Jones-Quartey strengthened his belief that his scholarship to Findlay would become his springboard.
Said Stier: "I think the hand of God has been working through all this. … But along with that, Harold has this heightened level of confidence in who he is and saw a path where others wouldn't have.
"We talked about it. They'll find you in the NFL if you're good enough."
Harold Jones-Quartey
The push
Jones-Quartey remembers the tears, the ones that welled in his eyes in the basement of the Gardner Center at Findlay. Another film session with defensive backs coach Thomas Howard had turned into a battle, with a demanding coach showing his perfectionist pupil every mistake he was making.
Every. Single. Little. Mistake.
His first step wasn't decisive enough. The backpedal wasn't fluid enough. Coming out of his breaks, his arms weren't tight enough.
Of all the Oilers defensive backs, Howard was especially hard on Jones-Quartey, not because he was aggravated by the errors but because he loved everything about the kid.
His athleticism. His passion. Most of all, his unrelenting vision.
When Jones-Quartey promised he'd one day play in the NFL, Howard believed him. But that meant an intense investment in getting better.
As Howard often asserted, Jones-Quartey couldn't just produce like a pro prospect during games. At the Division II level, his film had to look like he was made for Sundays.
Thus those film sessions were micro-focused and hyper-critical — "Knock-down drag-outs," Howard said.
"For me, I shied away from 'Hey, Harold, you're doing a great job,' and instead focused on 'Hey, Harold, we've got to get this thing right,'" Howard said. "I established it early that we were going to coach him hard with the details and all the small pieces he had to clean up in order to be the best."
Jones-Quartey knew even then the corrections were valuable. He was, after all, a Division II player shooting for the stars. But it sometimes proved taxing knowing no other player was critiqued like he was. And he was the one making the big plays.
"I appreciated (the tough love) then. I did," Jones-Quartey said. "I was just emotional at times because I was impatient and I wanted it so bad. I wanted perfection now. Because I didn't want to hear his mouth."
Halas Hall pass: Previewing the Bears-Bucs game
'I feel the energy'
Naturally, Jones-Quartey remembers the competitive high from the Bears' last visit to Tampa. It provided affirmation that his devotion to the growing process could pay dividends.
He still has his game ball from that afternoon in his bedroom. Only it's not on display — sometimes on the bed, sometimes on the floor. And it's more tattered than when he received it.
While Jones-Quartey was away at training camp, his brothers inadvertently used his prize to play catch — with his Rottweiler, Caesar.
Still, that's even more incentive for Jones-Quartey to earn another painted ball, to solve the riddle that has flustered him through this season's first two months. How can he increase his impact? Why hasn't he produced more splash plays?
"I haven't had any strips. No interceptions," Jones-Quartey said. "And that has to be a huge emphasis for me.
"But I'm not that far off. It's a step here or there. It's a matter of anticipating a few things quicker."
As the Bears push to find building blocks, Jones-Quartey has to become a playmaker. Defensive coordinator Vic Fangio envisions a bright future, asserting earlier this season that Jones-Quartey is on the verge of taking the next step. "But," Fangio followed, "the next step isn't the final step."
Fangio wants Jones-Quartey to become more proficient in translating defensive calls and identifying formations. He wants Jones-Quartey to react quicker.
"Football is so important to him," Fangio said. "He just wants to do the right thing. He wants to learn. He has a burning desire to be the best player he can be. And he's that way 24-7. When you get a guy like that, you can't help but cheer for him."
Jones-Quartey's dedication has again offered a chance to enhance a boyhood dream. That's why he always remembers the peers who didn't make it this far, guys like Feraris Golden, a friend and teammate at Findlay.
Initially, Jones-Quartey and Golden were adversaries, annoyed with one another's swagger. Until they realized they were kindred spirits in the way they attacked self-improvement.
Still, even after they became buddies, they remained intensely competitive. At practice. Playing video games. Chasing girls.
It got to the point one night where a dorm-room debate over which of the two players was most valuable to the Oilers program prompted an urgent chase to the coaches offices.
"Harold wanted to race me there too," Golden said. "I was in flip-flops. We were just chirping. 'Who's better? Who's better? What's up now?'"
With a laugh, Jones-Quartey remembers that, too, acknowledging the added responsibility he feels to excel.
Said Golden: "Harold tells me all the time, 'When I'm playing this game I bring your passion with me.' He knows I would cut off my damn arm to be where he's at. So he better. He'd be slapping God in the face if he didn't use the gifts he's been given."
Golden need not worry. Jones-Quartey remains unchanged, heading to Tampa with his unmistakable determination and optimism.
"I feel the energy," Jones-Quartey said. "I believe I am going to be more productive this entire second half. If you stay persistent, if you stay optimistic, the football gods are going to bless you."
dwiederer@chicagotribune.com
Twitter @danwiederer
Dan Wiederer Contact Reporter Chicago Tribune
Harold Jones-Quartey remembers the bright yellow wrapper. One fun-size bag of Peanut M&M's.
That was often the reward, the gold medal dangled by his dad for the races held so many mornings at his grandmother's compound in West Africa.
Down the driveway to the front gate. Harold versus his older brother Danny. Cutthroat every time.
And those M&M's, even with just one bag and only 10 or 11 peanuts inside, offered incentive.
"In Ghana," Jones-Quartey said, "that is like a treasure."
So much, in fact, that Jones-Quartey would proudly bring his prize to school to share, even though 11 M&M's quickly became eight, then seven, then six.
And immediately after those occasions when he dug deep to defeat Danny?
"My brother would kick my ass," the Bears safety said. "And my dad would let him. He'd stand there and watch my brother beat my ass for winning. He wanted to instill that competitiveness in us early."
Those races, with all their intensity and the drive they inspired, somehow began Jones-Quartey's extraordinary odyssey, a patience-testing yet passion-fueled journey from Ghana to the NFL.
Jones-Quartey's next stop — Bears vs. Buccaneers, Sunday in Tampa, Fla. — will take him back to the site of his biggest career breakthrough. Last December, in a 26-21 Bears win at Raymond James Stadium, Jones-Quartey was the defensive standout. Four tackles, two pass breakups, an interception plus a forced fumble.
It's a performance the 23-year-old still cherishes but never without qualifying his pride. Snippets of success can never become satisfaction.
"That was last year," Jones-Quartey said this week. "I've got to be making more plays right now."
Last winter, while crossing the bridge between his rookie year and his first true NFL offseason, Jones-Quartey consulted with Bears safeties coach Sam Garnes on his development. Garnes, a fifth-round pick by the Giants in 1997 who went on to start for seven seasons, spoke from experience. He wanted Jones-Quartey to know it was fine to appreciate the opportunity he'd been given to crack the starting lineup as an undrafted rookie.
But more than that, Garnes wanted Jones-Quartey to squeeze every drop of potential from his opening.
"We have a lot of people whose jobs are at stake," Garnes said. "A lot of people are depending on you. So there's no time to loosen up. You have to be on it."
Jones-Quartey nodded. But in the back of his mind, he also wondered if Garnes truly knew who he was talking to.
After all it took to get here? After traversing a dizzying path that no player has ever tried — from Ghana to high school club football to Division II Findlay University and on to the NFL?
Take this dream for granted?
"That's not me," Jones-Quartey said. "Nothing has ever been promised to me."
So how does he describe the ambition that fuels him and why he's so grateful for every opportunity?
"Because I remember," Jones-Quartey said. "That's as easy as I can explain it. I remember."
Jaguars wide receiver Marqise Lee tries to get away from Harold Jones-Quartey, right, during a game at Soldier Field on Sunday, Oct. 16, 2016. (Jeff Haynes / AP)
The long and winding road
Jones-Quartey remembers a happy if complicated childhood in Ghana. His parents were never married. And his mom moved to the United States when Harold was an infant. Still, Jones-Quartey found contentment in his village, in the youthful energy that existed and in the pickup soccer games that fed his competitive hunger.
When Harold was 9, his mother returned to Ghana to bring him and Danny to the U.S.
Jones-Quartey's first meal upon touching down in New York was at McDonald's.
"A McDouble with fries," he said. "It was like heaven. I thought it was so much food."
Once settled in Ohio, Jones-Quartey's enjoyment of soccer quickly transformed into an intense obsession with football. He loved the game the first time he played it, when his cousin told him that the guy with the ball was fair game.
"He told me, 'Harold, listen man, you can hit people here,'" Jones-Quartey said. "I was like, 'Say no more.'"
Jones-Quartey remembers his admiration for Panthers receiver Steve Smith, a 5-foot-9, 185-pound stick of dynamite who seemed to have his wick crackling every play. Something about Smith's fearless edge felt familiar, the kind of tenacity Jones-Quartey exhibited through his first two high school seasons at Westerville South in Columbus.
But when Jones-Quartey's stepdad left unannounced and his family was forced to move to make ends meet, his mother enrolled him at Horizon Science Academy.
It was a vexing diversion given the school didn't have a football program. Yet against his mother's wishes, Jones-Quartey continued pursuing his passion and joined the Columbus Crusaders, a club team that drew players from all over.
Jones-Quartey remembers the bus rides. Multiple transfers. Sometimes more than an hour one way. Then a half-mile run. All just to get to practice.
Brian Stier, the Crusaders coach, quickly saw Jones-Quartey's dynamic playmaking ability as a receiver and return man. Equally impressive, though, was his commitment — to be at every practice, to better understand the game, to pursue his dream.
And even after Division I schools didn't come swooning, Jones-Quartey strengthened his belief that his scholarship to Findlay would become his springboard.
Said Stier: "I think the hand of God has been working through all this. … But along with that, Harold has this heightened level of confidence in who he is and saw a path where others wouldn't have.
"We talked about it. They'll find you in the NFL if you're good enough."
Harold Jones-Quartey
The push
Jones-Quartey remembers the tears, the ones that welled in his eyes in the basement of the Gardner Center at Findlay. Another film session with defensive backs coach Thomas Howard had turned into a battle, with a demanding coach showing his perfectionist pupil every mistake he was making.
Every. Single. Little. Mistake.
His first step wasn't decisive enough. The backpedal wasn't fluid enough. Coming out of his breaks, his arms weren't tight enough.
Of all the Oilers defensive backs, Howard was especially hard on Jones-Quartey, not because he was aggravated by the errors but because he loved everything about the kid.
His athleticism. His passion. Most of all, his unrelenting vision.
When Jones-Quartey promised he'd one day play in the NFL, Howard believed him. But that meant an intense investment in getting better.
As Howard often asserted, Jones-Quartey couldn't just produce like a pro prospect during games. At the Division II level, his film had to look like he was made for Sundays.
Thus those film sessions were micro-focused and hyper-critical — "Knock-down drag-outs," Howard said.
"For me, I shied away from 'Hey, Harold, you're doing a great job,' and instead focused on 'Hey, Harold, we've got to get this thing right,'" Howard said. "I established it early that we were going to coach him hard with the details and all the small pieces he had to clean up in order to be the best."
Jones-Quartey knew even then the corrections were valuable. He was, after all, a Division II player shooting for the stars. But it sometimes proved taxing knowing no other player was critiqued like he was. And he was the one making the big plays.
"I appreciated (the tough love) then. I did," Jones-Quartey said. "I was just emotional at times because I was impatient and I wanted it so bad. I wanted perfection now. Because I didn't want to hear his mouth."
Halas Hall pass: Previewing the Bears-Bucs game
'I feel the energy'
Naturally, Jones-Quartey remembers the competitive high from the Bears' last visit to Tampa. It provided affirmation that his devotion to the growing process could pay dividends.
He still has his game ball from that afternoon in his bedroom. Only it's not on display — sometimes on the bed, sometimes on the floor. And it's more tattered than when he received it.
While Jones-Quartey was away at training camp, his brothers inadvertently used his prize to play catch — with his Rottweiler, Caesar.
Still, that's even more incentive for Jones-Quartey to earn another painted ball, to solve the riddle that has flustered him through this season's first two months. How can he increase his impact? Why hasn't he produced more splash plays?
"I haven't had any strips. No interceptions," Jones-Quartey said. "And that has to be a huge emphasis for me.
"But I'm not that far off. It's a step here or there. It's a matter of anticipating a few things quicker."
As the Bears push to find building blocks, Jones-Quartey has to become a playmaker. Defensive coordinator Vic Fangio envisions a bright future, asserting earlier this season that Jones-Quartey is on the verge of taking the next step. "But," Fangio followed, "the next step isn't the final step."
Fangio wants Jones-Quartey to become more proficient in translating defensive calls and identifying formations. He wants Jones-Quartey to react quicker.
"Football is so important to him," Fangio said. "He just wants to do the right thing. He wants to learn. He has a burning desire to be the best player he can be. And he's that way 24-7. When you get a guy like that, you can't help but cheer for him."
Jones-Quartey's dedication has again offered a chance to enhance a boyhood dream. That's why he always remembers the peers who didn't make it this far, guys like Feraris Golden, a friend and teammate at Findlay.
Initially, Jones-Quartey and Golden were adversaries, annoyed with one another's swagger. Until they realized they were kindred spirits in the way they attacked self-improvement.
Still, even after they became buddies, they remained intensely competitive. At practice. Playing video games. Chasing girls.
It got to the point one night where a dorm-room debate over which of the two players was most valuable to the Oilers program prompted an urgent chase to the coaches offices.
"Harold wanted to race me there too," Golden said. "I was in flip-flops. We were just chirping. 'Who's better? Who's better? What's up now?'"
With a laugh, Jones-Quartey remembers that, too, acknowledging the added responsibility he feels to excel.
Said Golden: "Harold tells me all the time, 'When I'm playing this game I bring your passion with me.' He knows I would cut off my damn arm to be where he's at. So he better. He'd be slapping God in the face if he didn't use the gifts he's been given."
Golden need not worry. Jones-Quartey remains unchanged, heading to Tampa with his unmistakable determination and optimism.
"I feel the energy," Jones-Quartey said. "I believe I am going to be more productive this entire second half. If you stay persistent, if you stay optimistic, the football gods are going to bless you."
dwiederer@chicagotribune.com
Twitter @danwiederer
