By Len Pasquarelli
ESPN.com

Wednesday, May 12, 2004

When you are 21 years old, and have arrived at that defining number despite a series of self-inflicted setbacks and poor judgments, traveling a road where most of the potholes were jackhammered out by the guy you eyeball in the bathroom mirror every morning, past indiscretions don't negate the right to still dream a little bit. So it is that every night, before he turns out the lights in his Indianapolis apartment, Adrian McPherson stares at the note taped to the wall several months ago, then d ...

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