Originally Published: July 3, 2008

Now 21, age no longer defines Okoye

Comment Print Share
Wickersham By Seth Wickersham
ESPN The Magazine
Archive

Why should you be happy that Texans defensive tackle Amobi Okoye finally turned 21 on June 10? Let's do 21 shots to find out.

1. Four days after his birthday, Okoye celebrated at his party at the Westin hotel in Houston with a glass of red wine. A big glass, but not much more. Forget the blurs and bumbles of bar hopping, the endless shots, the Amy Winehouse hangover. Okoye, who last year was the youngest NFL player in 30 years, was sober and happy and wasn't photographed doing anything stupid. Bloggers might be bummed, but kids who look up to him aren't. And Okoye wanted not only to enjoy his birthday but to actually remember it, too.

[+] EnlargeAmobi Okoye
Bob Levey/Getty ImagesAt 19, Amobi Okoye was the youngest player ever to be selected in the first round of the NFL draft.
2-12. He celebrated in a tux with-- no kidding -- 400 in attendance, including friends, fans, family, teammates and even a few celebs, including rapper Juelz Santana and actress Sanaa Lathan. The party was extravagant, but then again, so is Okoye. When he was drafted last April by the Texans -- as the youngest player drafted in NFL history -- Okoye's goal was to be football's LeBron James. Call him overly ambitious, but his birthday shows he's got plenty of support.

13. He's no longer the guy with the virgin drink. In April 2007, Okoye sat in a Huntsville, Ala., barbecue joint with his former coaches at Lee High. They talked about old times, how quickly Okoye had gone from a pudgy 12-year-old freshman who had never played football to a certain first-rounder. When they toasted him, he raised his lemonade. Not anymore.

14. Giants defensive end Osi Umenyiora flew from New York for the birthday party. You should be happy that Osi flew to see Amobi because Osi always makes Amobi happy. They were two of four players who visited their native Nigeria this spring. But before the trip, Umenyiora, of course, had to pull a prank on Amobi. He always does. As Okoye arrived at John F. Kennedy Airport two hours early for his flight, Umenyiora called. "I'm tired," he said. Maybe he'd catch the next flight, maybe he'd skip the trip altogether.

Ever solution-oriented -- you don't graduate from Louisville in less than four years without being a problem solver -- Okoye asked a British Airways worker whether she could escort Umenyiora through security in a hurry, even if he arrived late. She said yes. So Okoye called Umenyiora, who said he still didn't think he could make it. Bummed, Okoye entered the British Airways TV room only to see Umenyiora sitting on the couch, watching MTV, trying hard not to laugh as he said, "Y'all looking for me?"

15-18. Three teammates rapped "Happy Birthday" at Okoye's party: running back Darius Walker, linebacker Zac Diles, and offensive tackle Brandon Frye. How often is the hotshot millionaire rookie so down-to-earth that the practice squad guys want to sing for him?

19. Okoye not only picked up the tab for his birthday party but also bought his teammates drinks a few hours earlier at a Texans bowling outing. This is coming off a rookie year in which he once dropped $5,000 on dinner with the defensive linemen. "My wallet was crying," Okoye said. Safe to say his teammates will owe him a few rounds. Like until 2009.

20. This birthday was one of the most important moments in Okoye's life, not just because he's finally legal. For the first time since his diaper days, age won't be a day-to-day issue. He can be normal. Okoye always has been the youngest, ever since he skipped two grades and entered Lee High at age 12.

It's a burden he's learned to accept. In high school, he hated that he was into Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles when the rest of his classmates were learning how to drive. At Louisville, he hated that he'd go to Applebee's while the rest of the team went to clubs. He hated sneaking into clubs even more. During his rookie year, he hated knowing nobody could relate to him. "Last year after I got drafted," he says, "I looked around the locker room: guys with a wife and kids, and we're all doing the same job. And it hit me how young I felt."

Most of all, he hates that his age has defined him, not the other way around. "I get tired of everyone talking about it," he says.

Now, there's nothing left to say.

21. And, for the first time, his ID will get him through the door.

Seth Wickersham is a senior writer for ESPN The Magazine and a columnist for ESPN.com.