I remember being impressed with Cameron Heyward.
As a three-dimensional, roughly six-foot-five, 300 pound human being, at first. Back in the salad days, when Eleven Warriors dot com was sending unqualified dinguses like yours truly to Ohio State football practices to act like they knew what they were doing, I did at one point attempt to ask Heyward a question or two. The genius of my inquiries have been sadly lost to the ages, but I do have a blurry picture of him that I took as I was trying to juggle a notebook and a camera I had shoved in my cargo pants.
Anyway, all of that is to say that Heyward was (is) a big dude. With a deep, sonorous voice and an extremely direct style of interacting with people, he's the kind of person that can command a room without realizing it. His play on the field for the Buckeyes didn't hurt that impression either; he was consistently one of the best defensive players for Jim Tressel from 2007-2010, and ended up as a First-Team All-Big Ten selection his senior year.
That's probably my favorite Cam Heyward play, in large part because he tried to head-fake an entire Miami Hurricane offense trying to bring him down 50 yards deep into an 80-yard interception return.
When he finally headed for the NFL, I wish I could say that I expected him to be an unmitigated success and a cornerstone franchise player, but despite all of what I had enjoyed about him at Ohio State, I was skeptical. Sort of.
The 2011 NFL Draft was absolutely loaded when it came to defensive linemen. Heyward was selected with the 31st pick and he was the 10th DL off the board, behind the likes of J.J. Watt, Ryan Kerrigan, and Adrian Clayborn. All three were from the Big Ten and all three were All-American selections, and Heyward seemed just a step behind these guys. Still fantastic, and still a clear first round draft pick, but the superlatives put on him were more in line with descriptions of serpentine belts and cylinder blocks than whatever flowery prose typically gets foisted on Top-5 picks.
But after a shaky first few seasons with the Pittsburgh Steelers, something interesting happened. Things started to click, and Cam Heyward has improved pretty much every season for... well, it's 2023, so something like a decade now. He's a six-time Pro Bowler now, and at the ripe old age of, uh, 33, it seems pretty apparent that Heyward has not yet begun to fight. He should be able to add significantly to his 78.5 career sacks in the coming seasons.
Cameron Heyward's career is fascinating to me for a few reasons, and I think a little instructive.
First, sticking around for well over a decade in a sports league designed mangle bodies like some kind of 1950's car safety PSA is a feat in of itself. Consistently getting better over that time period is rarer still, as is continuing to be one of the most productive members of that draft class.
The real reason why I think I enjoy Heyward's story so much is because I foolishly doubted him; I thought that despite what my eyeballs had clearly seen both in person and on my television set, that Heyward was going to be just "a guy" in the NFL, that bigger names on would make more noise over time. And while some did go on to kick very large amounts of ass in the NFL, Heyward has always been right there with them.
This isn't just limited to Heyward. There are lots of guys in Ohio State's history who have entered the draft and parlayed that opportunity into long NFL careers that might've surprised some ignorant outside observers (and dumb fans like myself).
Hankins, also very large
A lot of these names you know and did exactly what people expected them to; Cris Carter and Joey Galloway both played for 16 seasons at wide receiver, linebacker Mike Vrabel and defensive back Antoine Winfield had 14 seasons under their belts, defensive back Malcolm Jenkins, offensive lineman Orlando Pace, and defensive lineman Dan Wilkinson all played for 13.
But there have been some unexpected surprises, too. Ted Ginn, Jr. looked like he might flame out in the NFL early, but instead went on to find his niche and play in 14 seasons, all the way up until 2020. Defensive linemen like Ryan Pickett (1998-2000) and Johnathan Hankins (2010-2012) might not have been household names, but still translated (and continue to translate, in the case of Hankins) their talent into decade-plus careers.
Long snapper (and two-time Pro Bowler) Jake McQuaide is still in the NFL after 12 seasons, and both offensive linemen Corey Linsley and Andrew Norwell are approaching a decade themselves, with Linsley being one of the highest-paid offensive linemen in the the league.
A lot about the NFL has felt bloated and awkward over the past few years, but one thing that still draws me to the NFL Draft specifically is the idea that I'll get to see the start of one of these stories, where a player that we might not necessarily expect to make a huge, long-term impact ends up becoming a part of the essential fabric of football outside of Ohio State and Columbus.
I keep coming back to the NFL Draft because I know that in my skeptic's heart, one of these guys that I don't expect it from will prove me wrong. And that can be a lot of fun to watch.
