Chad Wilson
November 18, 2024
“Chad, I think you should play cornerback.”
Those words from a childhood friend in 1986 lit a fire in my belly.
“Man, I’m a running back,” I fired back. I was going to be the next Eric Dickerson. I had my neck roll, my upright running style, and if they hadn’t given me headaches, I would’ve worn the Rec Specs goggles too.
I couldn’t really name any cornerbacks back then. I knew Leroy Irvin because he played for my favorite team, the Los Angeles Rams. Of course, everyone knew Lester Hayes because he was one part skilled and one part half-crazy. Other than that, there wasn’t anyone inspiring me to hug the sideline and chase a receiver around the field for an entire game. Running backs got the ball, made sweet moves, and scored touchdowns. They got their faces on TV. Cornerbacks, in 1986, weren’t doing that.
By 1987, I was 15 years old. I wasn’t the biggest guy on the football field, but I could run with almost anyone. Eric Dickerson was 6’3” and 220 lbs., and it wasn’t looking like I was going to get there. Plus, running backs took a lot of hits. I didn’t want to play corner, but what about wide receiver? That was the plan until I saw this guy wearing #2 for the Florida State Seminoles.
This guy wasn’t playing cornerback like anyone else. I watched him swoop in on Andre Rison of Michigan State, jump over him, intercept the ball, pop up, and point to the sideline, telling Rison to get off the field. I saw him intercept Brett Favre from Southern Mississippi and high-step like Walter Payton—except Walter Payton never high-stepped for that long. Who was this dude?
The Bobby Bowden Show aired locally in the Miami/Fort Lauderdale area in the ‘80s, and every week, Bobby talked about this “daggum Deion Sanders.” Week after week, Sanders did something spectacular—running back punts with pizazz, chasing down speedy backs with confidence, making ridiculous interceptions, or putting top-ranked receivers on the back of a milk carton. I started thinking, Hey, maybe playing cornerback isn’t that bad.
By 1988, I was sold on playing cornerback. Besides, most coaches who saw me thought I’d be good at it. By then, I had moved to California to finish high school, bringing my Florida/Prime Time swag with me. I still played running back but started playing cornerback too. Running back was fun, but I wanted to be Prime Time. Out came the headband around the neck. I couldn’t high-step because it was a penalty, but I’d sneak one in now and then.
During a game against our cross-town rivals, I broke into the open field on a kickoff return and raised the ball over my head for the last 35 yards to the end zone. It took all my willpower not to high-step. An assistant coach met me on my way back to the sideline. “Don’t you ever hold the ball over your head like that again,” he screamed, cycling through shades of red. Full of Prime Time confidence, my only thought was, He said ‘again,’ so he knows I’m going to be scoring a lot. That was the Prime Time in me talking. From that point on, every time I scored, I placed the ball in the end zone with a unique style inspired by Neon Deion.
I carried that energy into college when I signed with Long Beach State. I arrived ready to play as a freshman because that’s what Deion did. It made me work hard, play hard, and guess what? I played a lot as a freshman and started several games. By my second year, though, Long Beach State felt too small for the star I thought I was. I wanted to transfer—to be on TV, like Prime. I called Florida State University, sent my highlight tape, and informed Hall of Famer Willie Brown, my head coach, of my plans.
The next day at practice, Coach Brown ordered seven consecutive go routes against me. The first pass was caught, and the whole team mocked me with the Tomahawk Chop. The next six passes were incomplete, one of them intercepted. I proved my point, and I was thrilled.
As fate would have it, Long Beach State dropped football, and I ended up at the University of Miami. Even though I was playing for Prime Time’s arch-nemesis, I was thrilled to be a Cane. That didn’t stop me from emulating Prime’s pizzazz and striving to reach his level.
In 1995, I watched Deion practice on our University of Miami field while the 49ers prepared for the Super Bowl against the Chargers. I was stunned by his work ethic. Nobody worked harder than Jerry Rice, but the second-hardest worker on that field was Prime Time. That day, I learned that “success is not an accident” and that “talent has its limits; work ethic makes you the best.”
Wanting to be like Prime Time pushed me to work hard on my skills as a cornerback. I imagine that’s true for thousands of kids inspired by this legendary figure. Now he inspires an entirely new generation of players but also coaches as the leader of the Colorado Buffaloes football program.
Chad Wilson is the owner of All Eyes DB Camp and author of "101 DB Tips". He played college football at the University of Miami and briefly in the NFL for the Seattle Seahawks. Over his 15 year high school football coaching career, he tutored over a dozen Division I defensive backs and as a trainer has worked with NFL All Pros, first round draft picks, college football All Americans and Top 10 ranked high school football prospects.
