By Michael Grant Jaffe

Monday, December 1, 2008

On a sweltering July afternoon, Omar Jacobs stands shirtless near the Bowling Green practice field. His dreadlocks, tied in a loose bale above his neck, resemble a lion's mane. His skin is damp with sweat. Receivers zig and zag through smack-talking cornerbacks, all sharp elbows and high forearms, as Jacobs fires spiral after spiral. On deep routes, the ball glides tantalizingly past the outstretched fingers of defenders before sinking gently into the hands of his target. Each timing pattern end ...

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