Malcolm Butler Day A Surreal Experience For its Namesake
The weeks since Malcolm Butler made the play of Super Bowl XLIX have been a whirlwind, to say the least.
He has, in order: appeared on the Grammys, gotten a new car, ben featured in an NFL Network segment and now, hosted a parade as part of Malcolm Butler Day in his hometown of Vicksburg, Mississippi.
Not bad for “a once-cut JUCO player who went from working at Popeyes for $7.25 an hour to an undrafted free agent in the NFL,’’ per mmqb.si.com’s Emily Kaplan.
Kaplan spent Malcolm Butler Day with its namesake on Saturday, with several nuggets making it into a fascinating profile published Tuesday.
As a middle schooler, Kaplan writes, Butler was a poor student but a good kid.
“Hey, wait. Is that who I think it is?’’ asked Lucy Derosset, tugging on her husband’s sleeve. Derosset likes football just as much as anyone down in Mississippi, but her eyes were constantly searching for No. 21 in white, her onetime pupil in the eighth grade. Butler was never the best student, she says, but he was always the sweetest. When Derosset’s husband would bring their 2-year-old daughter to see mom at school, Malcolm would always carry her around on his hip. He’d walk her down the hallways and try to teach her his name. “Makk-um. Makk-um,’’ was the best she could muster by June.
Butler would take a backwards route to the NFL, squandering an opportunity at Hinds Community College after a pot bust. Back in Vicksburg after being kicked from the team, Butler took the job at Popeye’s, where high school coach Alonzo Stevens would keep tabs on him.
It was Stevens who had pulled for Butler to get his act together for a senior season that opened the door to Hinds Community College—a door that closed not long after Butler was pulled over by police in 2009 and found to have a bag of marijuana under his seat. The coaches later kicked him off the team, and so Butler returned to Vicksburg, where he battered chicken at Popeyes. Stevens would stop by the restaurant all the time, often causing gridlock in the drive-through lane as he counseled Butler. “Keep working hard,’’ he’d say. “If working at Popeyes is your plan, work so hard that you own the place.’’
The boy scouts march on, followed by junior cheerleaders who have the number 21 painted on their faces. Then there’s the Special Olympics float, the Alcorn State marching band, the Vicksburg High football team. On and on the procession goes, including a Popeyes float replete with two men dancing in chicken costumes.
“Wow,’’ Butler says from atop his perch. He wraps his arm around his mother’s shoulder. “Can you believe this?’’
Speechless, she wipes her cheek.
The streets are lined for nearly a mile. Butler waves to his left, then to his right, and then back to his left again. His smile never disappears.
“I love you Malcolm!’’ a group of four girls squeals in unison.
“Throw down your watch!’’ someone shouts.
Butler would make a name for himself at the University of West Alabama, but the Division II school gave him little recognition. Butler’s agent, Derek Simpson, managed to get him a spot at the University of Alabama’s pro day in 2014, but he would go undrafted after a poor showing. Then, Patriots cornerback coach Josh Boyer called to offer him a tryout. And the team is lucky they did.
“I’ll never forget getting a call from Malcolm a few days into training camp,’’ Simpson says. “He sounded like a little kid who just had his first kiss. He was like, ‘Guess what? Guess what? I just picked off Brady in practice!’ ’’
To comment, please create a screen name in your profile
To comment, please verify your email address
Conversation
This discussion has ended. Please join elsewhere on Boston.com