That man used to be a hero. Really.
Maurice Clarett was going to the next great college tailback. He was going to be the next great Buckeye. He would have been the next Archie. Then he fucked it all up. And harsh as it is, that’s the only word that can truly express how badly No. 13 messed it all up and slipped out of relevance.
I remember watching that first game. I was a 14 year old kid, a freshman, and major Ohio State fan - this is Columbus, y’know. Jim Tressel was still the new guy, and had something to prove. And so did this kid. He was a true freshman, out of Warren Harding. And all of a sudden, he was a starter. And what a game he had.
He pretty much plowed through the schedule, Big 10 and all. I still have many, many vivid memories of the whole season - especially listening to the very end of the Purdue game on the radio on the way home from Wittenberg. Krenzel threw the winning touchdown as we hit the driveway…anyway, that’s a story for another day.
Anyway, he had a killer freshman year. Naturally, he was set to be the latest hero in Ohio State lore. And yet, a random online article was the first time I’ve heard his name in god knows how long. It’s like a collective family secret, one no one mentions, and no one acknowledges. Hell, even ESPN, who was at one time totally out to get us, hasn’t done the inevitable catching-up piece. Or maybe they have. I’ve only recently caught up on my morning SportsCenter. But he’s gone for all we know, locked away in a prison up in Toledo. And it’s his own damn fault.
It started the summer after The Glory (as I still refer to the whole “ness” of the one actual championship season - again, another story) when Mo’s car got robbed. Suddenly, he helped himself to bunch of stuff that just wasn’t there - for those of you familiar with insurance terms, it’s called “fraud” and it’s sort of illegal. This played out as a “oh no” bit, while he was bitching about how Ohio State treated him like shit, he got suspended…and it just went to hell from there.
He never did play another game, not at Ohio State. Man, imagine if he’d had a young Justin Zwick or Troy Smith handing him the ball…damn. Anyway, we digress.
From here, Mo sits out a year. Doesn’t plan on coming back. Whines to ESPN some more. Then, he decided to challenge the NFL. If you’re not familiar with it, the NFL was the only league at the time that had college-experience age limits (the NBA has since passed a 20-year-old restriction for draftees). He decided he’d be the supposedly inevitable guy to bring the rule down. So he challenged it. And lost. In a word, “shit”.
So he waited. Not much was heard till the next draft came ‘round. He’d sat out two years, but since he was soooooooo good, that wasn’t gonna be a problem. Right?
His two 40-yard-dash times were around 4.7 and 4.8. That would equal most of the guys actually measuring the tests. Still, the Broncos took a flyer on him - in the third round, no less. He signed the first deal they shoved his way, much to the chagrin of his agents. Turns out, he was almost a million dollars in debt after his lawsuit against the NFL went almost the Supreme Court (who declined to hear it). Instead of taking more guaranteed money, he wanted a Ricky Williams-esque deal laden with incentives. He figured he’d be the same guy he’d been his freshman year. Hell, with Shanahan’s system, he had a shot. Except for the part where he showed up to training camp injured and 20 pounds overweight.
So that was kinda over before it started. He considered bouncing around a few local arena league teams. Then came New Year’s 2006. After a late night of partying, a couple of guys walked out of the old Opium lounge, when suddenly, they were accosted by a vaguely familiar looking man. Suddenly, they realized, “fuck, dude, you’re Maurice Clarett!” All he got out of them was a cell phone. He turned himself in the next night during the Fiesta Bowl against Notre Dame, and that was that. He got a court date, and all was calm. Then, the night before his trial began, he went batshit insane. Almost literally.
The C-Bus collectively woke up to remember Mo when he was splattered all over newspapers - even the Dispatch had gotten it just in time. He’d led police on a chase down I-70, ended with spike strips and Mo being “removed” from the vehicle. Police, er, calmed him with mace. They tried a taser, but he had on a bulletproof kevlar vest. He was ridin’ dirty with two handguns, a knockoff AK-47 and a used bottle of Grey Goose and - you can’t make this shit up - “a compact disc of children’s songs recorded by Ohio prison inmates that the state distributed…to prisoners and their families.” Yep.
He made his hearing after all, then, to no surprise, got sent to prison. He’s currently serving, due out in a year or so.
So there you have it. He might have been the best tailback Ohio State had seen since Archie, or at least Eddie. Instead…well, you see the picture above.
Good luck, Mo. Just…stay the fuck away from me, alright? Thanks.
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