Editor's note: This story originally published April 19, 2010 before the Dallas Cowboys selected Dez Bryant in the draft. Over the course of the off-season, we'll be bringing back some of our past stories looking at the Cowboys on and off the field.
Written by Jean Jacques Taylor
LUFKIN — You can't find a teammate, coach or scout who says Dez Bryant is a bad person. You can't find a teammate, coach or scout who questions Bryant's work ethic on the practice field.
His biggest flaw: He is habitually late.
No joke.
That's the most serious criticism leveled at Bryant. He can't manage time to save his life.
Obviously, that's a bad habit that must be corrected. But this is a young man who's been on his own in a lot of ways since he became a teenager.
He has dealt with a change in his mother's sexual orientation in a conservative town of about 32,000, located in the heart of the Bible Belt. He's dealt with the self-esteem troubles that accompany taking special education classes, as he did until he requested more challenging courses in the 11th grade to ensure he could attend college.
We're talking about a kid who bounced around from family to family during his high school years in a constant quest for stability.
Mother's journey
It's hard enough to be a good mother when you're an adult. At 15, Angela Bryant had no chance.
All she could do was her best.
Some days it was good enough. Many days it wasn't. She admits that.
Angela said she sold drugs to provide for her kids.
To say that she raised Dez is too strong. At various times, he lived with an aunt, his girlfriend's family and a friend. Dez also lived briefly with his father MacArthur Hatton, but the two have virtually no relationship today.
Just don't question Angela's love for Dez, 19-year Lyeddia and 17-year-old Deon, all sired by Hatton.
You feel the bond between Dez and Angela when they're in the same room laughing and joking and talking. You can sense the connection when he stares into her eyes, while posing for a photograph and when he drapes his arm around her shoulder and tugs her close.
They have the same smooth, dark skin. The same high cheekbones. The same broad smile, though Angela wears a glistening gold grill. They're really more like brother and sister, as you might expect, than mother and son.
Angela Bryant attended most of his games at Oklahoma State, making the eight-hour drive from Lufkin to Stillwater with Carldelro King, Dez's best friend. She took an 18-hour bus ride to Athens, Ga., to see Dez's college debut against Georgia in 2007.
"It made me feel so good to see her," Bryant said, "I hugged her until it was time to get on the bus."
Mother and son don't believe in secrets. Honesty, even if it hurts, is the foundation of their relationship.
That's how they worked through Angela's change in sexual orientation. Dez was in high school when he learned his mother was no longer interested in romantic relationships with men.
"I didn't like it. Really, I still don't," he said. "I dealt with it and now I'm comfortable with it."
Angela broached the topic with him because she didn't want her sexuality creating a wedge between them.
"It hurt me that it hurt him. I'm very happy about the relationship that we have," Angela said. "I wasn't close with my parents, so it's important for me to be close with my kids.
"I'm not a typical mom, but my kids know I love them. They can tell me anything and I'll do anything for them."
Natural receiver
Look at Bryant's huge hands, his fingernails neatly manicured. Study his 6-2, 224-pound frame with the 4 percent body fat, and it's pretty obvious God made Bryant to play receiver.
Football came naturally to Bryant, who scored 41 touchdowns in 31 games at Lufkin.
But he was prone to angry outbursts as he worked through a cauldron of emotions created by his childhood. And like most receivers, he could be a diva.
Once, coach John Outlaw suspended him for a playoff game. Outlaw can't even recall why years later.
"We've had some big-time players come out of here, but there's never been anybody that saw the big picture better than Dez," said Brooke Stafford, a Lufkin assistant who's remained close to Bryant. "Sometimes, he'd take the path of least resistance, but he's always been able to see the draft. The decisions he made were always about getting to the NFL."
After his sophomore year, Bryant told Stafford he needed tougher classes so he could play college football. Dez never thought he belonged in special ed, but his mother never questioned it until then.
"I wasn't a dummy," Bryant said. "When I didn't feel like doing the work, I didn't do it. When I felt like doing it, I did - and it was no problem."
Bryant completed four years of math and English in his final two years of high school, then scored high enough on the ACT to play as a freshman.
"I've taught school for 35 years, and I've never been prouder of a student than I am of him," said Jody Anderson, Bryant's math teacher. "I admired what he was trying to do and how hard he worked to do it."
As he became a star in Lufkin's spread offense, Bryant became one of the state's top recruits.
Texas, Texas A&M, LSU, Oklahoma and Oklahoma State each wanted his signature on a letter-of-intent. He signed with Oklahoma State because the Cowboys' interest never wavered.
Mike Gundy's offense needed a dynamic receiver, and Bryant wanted to play for a team he could lead to prominence. It helped that receivers coach Gunter Brewer had coached Randy Moss, one of Bryant's favorite receivers, at Marshall.
Bryant earned All-America honors as a sophomore with 19 touchdown receptions. As a junior, he figured he'd win the Biletnikoff Award like his friend Michael Crabtree, lead OSU to a BCS game and become a first-round draft pick.
Three games into last season, the dream scenario fell apart.
Bryant and Crabtree became friends when they met at an awards ceremony following the 2008 season. Crabtree introduced Bryant to Sanders.
"We developed a relationship because I could relate to a lot of things that he's encountered," Sanders said. "I could relate to public success and private struggles, and I could relate to having a fairly young mother.
"I'm brutally honest with kids like Dez. Dealing with kids is like a ministry to me. They're trying to navigate the streets that I've already traveled. I'm a living, breathing navigation system, but that doesn't mean they won't make a wrong turn."
Meeting with Sanders didn't violate any NCAA rules, but lying about it did. When the NCAA wanted details, Bryant figured he had inadvertently violated a rule, so he lied.
The cover-up is usually worse than the crime, as Bryant learned, but he's never been bitter about the suspension because he blames himself for lying.
When the NCAA denied Bryant's appeal, he moved to Dallas and began training for the draft.
"I remember Coach Gundy saying, 'If you do everything you're supposed to do, you'll be out in three years,' " said Bryant. "And here I am."
Making his case
Bryant has been traveling across the country speaking with officials from a plethora of teams, trying to convince them he'll be an asset to their team and community.
He's answered questions about his background and the 18 months his mother spent in jail in 1997-98. He's answered questions about whether he forgot his cleats at his personal workout - turns out he didn't - and why clubs should invest millions in him.
Bryant invites the questions.
"It's just business," he said.
Jones has always regretted not drafting Moss in 1998. As long as drugs or violence aren't involved, Jones says the Cowboys have the infrastructure to add players who come with some risk.
"The reason my mom sold drugs and went to jail is so we could live," Bryant said. "She paid a hard price for it. Now she doesn't ever have to do anything like that again. God put me in this position to help my family and others who have helped me."
