Omarr Conner awoke at 7 a.m. to the smell of his mother’s pancakes. The weekend was over, and it was time to head back to school.
Macon, Miss., is about an hour’s drive from Evans Hall, and Conner passed the time with some Lil’ Wayne in the CD player.
“Rap music always gets me hyped and ready for the day,” the junior Bulldog football player explained.
After a brief stop at the dorm, it was time for microeconomics-a three-hour, 9 a.m. class in McCool Hall. The day’s attire was exclusively Jordan-Michael Jordan warm-ups with Air Jordan sneakers and Jordan “jumpman” earrings, topped off by a Chicago Bulls hat and an MJ watch. A black MTV-U backpack contained Conner’s notebook.
The distance from Evans to McCool is about one-quarter mile. In that distance 14 people offered 14 versions of salutations to Conner, ranging in social status from fellow students to teammates, construction workers and even shuttle bus drivers. The star was in his element.
Robert Prather was the economics instructor, and despite a rather dry interpretation of market economy peppered with references to Prather’s favorite cayenne pepper brands and a history of sun-dried tomatoes, Conner remained attentive but admitted it was tough.
From there Conner traveled the short distance to Dorman Hall, accompanied by teammate Michael Heard-only seven greetings this time but over a much shorter walk. The two spent the walk discussing a blowout loss to Louisiana State two years ago, and how tough it was to battle Nick Saban’s Tigers in Baton Rouge. Conner and company will be returning to Death Valley this fall.
General Psychology was lectured by Thomas Carskadon. He was a pencil-thin white man with a typically pressed slacks-and-tie wardrobe.
Conner was one of 197 students enrolled in the course, so he garnered little attention when he nodded off in the middle of a serotonin discussion.
At 11 a.m., Omarr’s schedule of classes for the day was over. A normal college student might have then had the opportunity to return to the dorm for a nap, or do a crossword puzzle over lunch with friends in The Union. Omarr, however, was off to do one of three mandatory weekly hours of study hall.
The basement floor of Hathorn Hall is a winding maze of windowless cubicles and branching corridors. Conner ducked into one of the small study rooms and sat down with Jan Odom, a tutor for athletes.
All Mississippi State scholarship athletes are required to do three hours of study hall, but freshmen and those with lower GPAs are usually required to do six.
“My GPA’s a 3.07,” Conner smiled, “so I’m good with just three.”
Former Bulldog head football coach Jackie Sherrill, who departed in 2003 after Conner’s freshman season, did not emphasize team academics.
“We still had to do three hours a week,” Conner said, “but it was a lot more personal responsibility.”
Current MSU head coach Sylvester Croom has stressed academics to his team to the point of obsession and, according to Conner has built “one of the top academic programs in the country.”
Odom greets Conner like they are old friends and immediately asks him for “the picture.” Conner produces a wallet-sized photo of his three-month-old baby girl, Layla, which Odom had been asking him to bring.
The two exchange coos for a few minutes before getting down to business.
The topics of the day are an upcoming nutrition test and the dropping of economics (listening to dry musings about sun-dried tomatoes is not how Conner intends to spend the next four months.) The two plot Conner’s graduation strategy and work through some of the psychology homework before the hour is over.
The walk back to the dorm was the same distance it was earlier, but the hand-grabbing Omarr was doing on the morning walk has been replaced by a phone call to Mama Conner confirming his safe journey back to Starkville.
“The only woman in my life is my mama,” Conner explained. “She’s always there for me and never breaks my heart.”
Weight practice started at 1 p.m. in the Shira Field House with warm-up bear crawls and hurdle drills. Conner has replaced his red-and-black Jordan ensemble with maroon gym shorts and a gray workout jersey with a trash bag underneath.
He had been told he reported back from the holidays a little overweight and must now face the finality of a weigh-in to avoid extra running. At 215 pounds, he comes in three pounds under his goal weight and is dismissed to the Holliman Athletic Center weight room.
In contrast to the mild-mannered, mass-communicated drudgery of the morning course work, weight-lifting is an intense time of individual sweating. The athletes are broken into small groups by position and weight class and then assigned a coach to guide them through their explicit regimen of exercises.
“Guide” may be incorrect terminology for what the coaches do; “forcefully persuade” might work better. Conner and company are yelled at and verbally assaulted to the point of infuriation and then worked until their muscles are broken completely down. Such is the nature of off-season conditioning.
Conner started out with four sets of five hang cleans, maxing out at 153 pounds, followed by four sets of back squats at 298. He then benched four sets of six, besting at 210 pounds, before finishing up with the bar press, leg curls and weighted sit-ups.
The whole process consumes more than an hour of time and an untold amount of body energy. Yet Conner’s football day is not done. Now it is time for catch and pass drills on the practice field in the 40-degree weather of a Mississippi January.
Conner bests his teammates on the field, catching most every ball that comes his way before bowing out to let some of the other receivers take more reps. The practice session is cut short because of a team meeting back at the Shira Field House.
The meeting began with a roll call from the president of football operations, Rocky Felker. After a few housekeeping details, it was time for the purpose of the meeting: a speech from Croom on the importance of off-season conditioning.
“We are done playing well and claiming moral victories. This year is the year we start winning some ballgames,” Croom bellowed in his deep baritone, “and everything you do or don’t do right now will show up in that first game against South Carolina.”
Croom keeps it short, as his point appears to be heard loud and clear, and Conner is dismissed with the rest of the players to position meetings. A 10-minute meeting with offensive coordinator Woody McCorvey and the other wide receivers, and Conner is free for the evening. Now it’s dinner time.
Conner pulled his 1999 Yukon into the parking lot at Applebee’s Neighborhood Grill and Bar at 10 minutes to 5 p.m. The pancakes from breakfast seem like a week ago for the weary foot soldier of the maroon army.
Conner satisfied his appetite with an order of chicken quesadillas and a double order of boneless buffalo wings. Strawberry lemonade whet his slight sweet tooth.
The conversation shifted from disgruntlement over the lack of team success to his childhood and the fulfillment of his dreams of becoming a football player.
“I remember when I was five, Mom trying to make be watch cartoons when I was crying to watch football,” Conner quipped. “I used to go out behind my grandmother’s house when I was 11 or 12 and play with boys that were in high school, just trying to get better.”
The topics passed like water down a stream: the transition to wide receiver, the Bulldogs’ new recruiting class, the reason for Conner’s selfless dedication to his team.
“I do it for the people who put it on the line for me when I was a boy-my mom, my grandmother. They went to work in the cold, or with arthritis, or whatever, just trying to help me survive. I am a grown man now; it’s time to give back.”
Dinner brought to light all the energy expended throughout the busy day, and rest was too strong a need to fight for very long. Conner bedded down for about two hours after returning to his dorm, awaking about 8 p.m. to study for his upcoming nutrition test.
After another call to Mama to say goodnight and a viewing of “The Jamie Foxx Show,” Conner ends his day about 11 p.m. It had been 16 hours from the time he awoke in his childhood bed, and since then he had thoroughly immersed himself in the worlds of both student and athlete. The struggle for balance between the two is a real one and one of which Conner is very aware.
But there is little time to contemplate that now. In eight short hours the rollercoaster of life will begin again. And Omarr Conner will be ready to stamp his ticket and take the ride.
Editor’s Note: R.J. Morgan is a Reflector football and baseball writer. He is also the official MSU writer for the Sporting News’ Campus Watch Blog Network. For more visit www.sportingnews.com/cbasketball/campuswatch/.