Kelly's passion for football burns on
He's less than a year shy of 50, nearly 13 years removed from the game, which leads you to wonder how much passion Jim Kelly brings to his football camp these days. Is this his operation in name only, or does he remain an active participant? Does he show up at noon and go through the motions, or is he there from the get-go, highly visible and raring to teach some football?
The answer arrives at 9:15 a.m., as soon as you enter the Buffalo Bills Fieldhouse and hear that distinctive voice — authoritative and exuberant with a pinch of gravel — resonating throughout the place.
No. 12 is walking amid row upon row of campers, talking them through stretching exercises, pointing out whatever errors in form he discerns.
"If you don't correct them," Kelly later says, "they're not going to improve. Between Monday and Thursday I want to see a difference. I want to see that they're learning something because they're doing it the right way."
While a face subtly weathered by age confirms his playing days have past, broad shoulders and a barrel chest suggest he still belongs behind center. What you can't see, he confides, is that his back is a mess, which might limit the extent of his participation this week.
But when he heads over to The Ralph, as he eyes campers ages 8-11 engaged in games of touch, you know darn well the back won't have the final say. Would Ted Williams have walked by a bat rack without picking one up? Would Pele pass a soccer ball without juggling it briefly? It's a Kelly Camp ritual that he takes to each field and runs a series during each Bantam division game. And although he expresses doubt he can meet that personal obligation, you know, you just know, that within two minutes his spirit will have conquered his misgivings.
"You try to throw a touchdown pass in every game," he says while surveying the action. "Sometimes it doesn't work out."
A new round of games begins and Kelly's working his way from one short field to the next. He barks out signals, urges his troops back to the line of scrimmage upon completion of each play, pump fakes left, pump fakes right, dumps the pass into the flat when nothing avails itself further down field. And your mind races back to the early '90s at the familiarity of it all, only this time it's not Andre Reed but Jacob Leblanc from Scottsville on the receiving end of a touchdown pass. And as the two exchange high fives you wonder if Leblanc feels like you'd presume a kid would under the circumstances.
You ask Jacob who threw him the touchdown pass.
"Jim Kelly," he says, "a Hall of Fame quarterback."
And what went through your mind?
"I caught a pass from Jim Kelly," he says, "and I scored it."
Twenty minutes later Kelly arrives in the Red Zone suite to deliver his customary "chalk talk" to the Senior group, players 15-18. He emphasizes the importance of commitment to team, a lesson he learned after missing weight in a midget championship game and being blamed for the defeat. He talks of finding ways to conquer or mitigate adversity and despair, lumps forming in throats as he says it was always his hope his son Hunter would be sitting where they are one day. He urges them all to take stock of their flanks.
"Show me your friends," Kelly says, "and I'll show you your future."
And then it's back to football, two more days this week, another camp session forthcoming in July.
"When I started this I thought I would do it 20 years and this is 22," Kelly says. "I'd like to do another 20."
And you think, "Hmmm. He just might get there, too."
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