Tired of spoiled athletes dominating the headlines? Then you want to hear about Cedric Peerman.
Peerman is the University of Virginia running back who was taken by the Ravens in the sixth round of the NFL draft.
He has been at the team's minicamp in Owings Mills this week, busting his butt in every drill, accelerating up and down the field like he's turbo-charged.
When the 2 1/2 -hour practices are over, he puts in an extra 25 minutes of agility work on a back field.
Then, tired and hungry, he comes off the field and patiently does an interview, looking the reporter in the eye and answering each question thoughtfully.
I know, I know . . . what's wrong with this guy?
Doesn't he know he's ruining the image of pampered jocks everywhere?
Wait, it gets worse.
In the course of interview, you also find out this about the man:
He grew up on a tobacco farm in Gladys, Va., plowing fields, planting crops and loading hernia-inducing sacks of tobacco onto trucks.
He's an ordained minister whose mission in life is to spread the Word and help the less fortunate.
And here's the one that really galls: Instead of rolling up to practice in the usual tricked-out Escalade or show-room shiny Benz, he's driving a '96 Ford Contour.
Me, I'd never heard of a Ford Contour.
Turns out it's a small four-door sedan made between 1995 and 2000, when it was discontinued on account of chronic national lack of interest.
It's the kind of car your grandma would drive, but only if your grandma were a nun.
"And I'm going to drive it 'til the wheels fall off," Peerman says with a smile.
Is this guy getting on your nerves, or what?
Actually, Peerman, 22, is the kind of player you should root so hard for that your lungs turn to sandpaper.
"He's a hard worker," said his dad, Stanley Peerman, on the phone from Gladys. "He put his best effort forth, even as a little kid."
"I love to play the game," Cedric Peerman says. "I'm going to go out there and play my hardest, and the Lord is going to bless me the way he sees fit."
As a sixth-round draft choice, even with the Lord in his corner, he's probably even-money to make the team as a third running back or special teams player.
But don't tell him that. (Peerman, I mean, not the Lord.)
At 5 feet 9, 220 pounds, and built along the lines of a small chimney, he ran a sizzling 4.34-second 40-yard dash at the NFL combine in February, best at his position.
