Welker is Patriots’ little big man
Wes Welker immediately knew his place in the NFL. It was May 2004, and he had been demoted to free-agent status, having been shunned an invitation to the scouting combine, then ignored over the league’s seven-round draft. If that wasn’t bad enough, he showed up to a Chargers minicamp and was issued jersey No. 16.
The same one Ryan Leaf once wore for San Diego.
“I hope there isn’t a bad (omen) attached to it,” Welker said that day. “I was just happy to get a jersey.”
The guy who isn’t going to the Pro Bowl for the Patriots had a franchise-record and league-leading 112 catches this season. The guy who is as responsible as anyone for Tom Brady and Randy Moss putting up historic Xbox numbers is listed at 5 feet 9 inches but is only that tall when you include the standard 2 inches teams add to a player’s bio. The guy who Jacksonville certainly won’t be primarily focused on in tonight’s AFC divisional playoff game might prove a huge reason New England marches onward.
It would be just like Welker to make such a difference on this grand of a stage.
It only makes sense when he is overlooked, which has been forever. He received just one college scholarship offer despite being the high school player of the year in a state (Oklahoma) whose prep football talent is often as rich as its soil during the growing season. He was invisible to NFL teams coming out of Texas Tech, even as he lugged with him records that made him the school’s most decorated receiver in history and several NCAA marks for punt returns. Welker finished with 5,730 all-purpose yards in college. No one seemed impressed beyond family and friends.
The Chargers cut him before the regular season began. The Dolphins signed him, nearly cut him a few times and ultimately traded him to New England in March for its second- and seventh-round draft picks. The Patriots gave him a five-year deal worth $18.1 million, which included a $9 million signing bonus. Yep. They knew more than everyone else again.
They’re just better at this stuff is all.
New England more than any team best differentiates between athletes in shorts and players in pads when pursuing trades or signing free agents or making draft picks. Some guys look like a million bucks on the track and in the weight room and posing in front of a mirror. All the places football isn’t played.
Welker is the perfect player for a team chasing the perfect season. He is not a star and not a reserve. He blends. He is not the explosive threat Moss presents every snap yet is talented and productive enough that opponents can’t disregard his presence. He drives the other team crazy.
This is so typical of how the NFL’s best team operates. While playing for Miami in 2004, in a game against New England, Welker became the second player in league history to return a kickoff and punt for scores, kick a field goal and extra point and make a tackle. Two seasons later, he caught what was then a career-best nine passes for 77 yards against the Patriots.
Now, he’s one of them.
“We couldn’t handle him,” New England coach Bill Belichick told reporters this season. “We played against him twice a year, and we couldn’t handle him — couldn’t tackle him, couldn’t cover him and had to double him a lot. He was a tough guy for us to match up with.
“Wes is a complete football player. A very unselfish kid. Does whatever you ask him to do, whether it’s return, block, catch, clear out, whatever it is. He does a good job. He hustles, plays hard, is physical. He’s not a big kid, but he’s physical, and he’s tough.”
It goes both ways. Welker has enjoyed by far his finest pro season because he competes alongside some of the best talent in league history. In Miami, he had quarterbacks such as Jay Fiedler and A.J. Feeley and Joey Harrington throwing to him. Now he has Brady. He was once the third receiver to Chris Chambers and Marty Booker. Now he’s No. 2 to a Hall of Famer.
But he also arguably is the best blocker New England ever has had in the slot, impressive when you consider Troy Brown played the position. Welker kills teams underneath as Moss stretches them deep. He gets first downs that lead to Moss scoring touchdowns. Welker moves chains; Moss moves fans to their feet. It is a lethal combination.
It’s more than anyone could have imagined that May afternoon in San Diego. Wes Welker just wanted a jersey back then, number be damned, and a chance to prove stature doesn’t define skill.
Over time, he has grown into a giant.
Ed Graney’s column is published Sunday, Wednesday, Thursday and Saturday. He can be reached at 383-4618 or egraney@reviewjournal.com.
