The coach would watch him sometimes, the way Cardale Jones was before a game.
Jones sat on the bus, saying nothing, running each play in his mind. Ted Ginn Sr., the longtime coach at Ohio's Glenville High, didn't just see a player preparing during those rides; he saw a young man - destined for college football stardom and perhaps beyond - who tried to imagine a perfect performance before trying to execute one.
"As much confidence [Bill] Belichick has in [Tom] Brady, I had in Cardale," said Ginn, whose son, Ted Ginn Jr., has spent nine years in the NFL.
The elder Ginn didn't just trust his quarterback, who would go on to Ohio State and win a national championship in his third start as a college player. He believed in him - still does - and wishes others could see Jones as Ginn does.
Instead, there is this: Jones is a mystery, perhaps the biggest one in the upcoming NFL draft. He is as physically talented as he is a psychologically unknown; he was once the picture of clutch. Now he's a symbol of how far a player's stock can fall in about a year.
Back in January 2015, the legend of Jones was growing. During those three games at the end of the 2014 season, after Braxton Miller and J.T. Barrett were injured, Jones was almost superhuman. After the national championship, Jones opted to stay in Columbus - a mild surprise, perhaps, considering his measurables and resume - and it was easy to see Heisman Trophy contention and first-round draft potential in the quarterback's future.
Then Ohio State Coach Urban Meyer benched Jones after seven games last season. Jones, who did not respond to an interview request for this story, vented his frustration through Twitter, changing his bio to show he was no longer the Buckeyes' starter; he was "Oh Wait 2nd String." He took occasional jabs at the NCAA and the idea of amateurism, pointing out this month that he was "so happy to be done with" the rules and regulations of college football.
Jones, a 6-foot-5, 253-pounder with mobility and perhaps the draft class's strongest arm, was injured during the NFL combine and refused to throw during the event's on-field session. His decision-making, no matter his abilities and an 11-0 record as a starter, seems to have put off NFL evaluators.
"Cardale Jones needs three full years to sit, watch and learn," said the ESPN draft analyst Mel Kiper, who last year projected Jones as a potential second-round pick. ". . . You've got to understand what you're dealing with here as far as being a developmental, raw quarterback."
It's Jones' mental approach to the game that seems to have given evaluators pause. After all, he showed little improvement as the Buckeyes' starter, and if anything he revealed inconsistencies in his accuracy, instincts and maturity.
But that's what has Ginn confused. In his experience, Jones was a psychological pillar. He studied film and seemed, Ginn said, to memorize the team's offensive playbook. "We didn't have to do anything but sit back and call plays," the coach said.
Ginn, who said he has known Jones since the young man was 9 years old, used to challenge him just to see how he'd react. He benched him once in a game against Braxton Miller's Wayne High team, and Ginn waited for Jones to explode. He just sat there on the bench, willing his team to an upset and, when Ginn looked in his direction, smiling at his coach. The kid's care-free nature was part of what his coach appreciated about him.
Ginn tried other ways to get under Jones' skin. He said he jokingly called Jones "dumb quarterback" when the young passer made a mistake, followed by a challenge to throw a tight spiral or some other benchmark. "I used to always say: 'Come on, dumb quarterback. That's what a dumb quarterback would do,'" Ginn said. "I would challenge him with things like that, like taking over a game and being that great leader, and he proved me wrong every time."
Ginn said his approach might not make sense to an outsider, and neither might Jones' playful nature. In the old days, Jones couldn't wait to peel out of his school uniform, and Ginn said he spent many afternoons retying Jones's necktie or coaxing him into putting his shoes back on. The coach talked to Jones about using Twitter as a place to vent, considering the eyes now watching.
That's just Cardale, the coach said, and Ginn doesn't expect newcomers to Jones' universe to immediately understand him. "He's going to tell you the truth all the time," Ginn said.
The NFL, though, in particular during the draft process, is professional sports' most superficial and impatient league. It does not care for passive-aggressive truth tellers, and franchises are not often in the business of understanding while a young player works out his own kinks and adjusts to a demanding new environment. It is not known for its sense of humor.
Jones, to that end, "has a lot of growing to do," ESPN analyst Todd McShay said this month, "before he's even ready to compete for a backup job in the league."
Ginn, anyway, said his former protege is ready. Jones' former coach believes that the quarterback will, in time, be a star, no matter what happens this week. "Give him a shot and see," the coach said.
But in the meantime, Ginn said, Jones isn't nervous about where he'll be drafted. He's relaxed, the coach said, and unbothered by the talk and the questions. Maybe that care-free attitude is a good thing this time of year, or maybe it's one more thing to rub evaluators the wrong way.
Either way, Jones is about to find out.
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