NO WALTZ : It Wasn’t as Easy as Woo-Woo-Woo for Ickey, Despite Rise With Bengals

Ready or not, America, here we go.

A-one. And a-two. And a Woo, Woo, Woo.

It’s Shuffle time!

So say hello to your spiritual leader for this week, running back Ickey Woods of the Cincinnati Bengals, creator of the Ickey Shuffle, the Woo-Woo-Woo and winner of this year’s Super Bowl Irrelevancy Award.

Don’t laugh. We’re talking tradition here. Previous honorees include Jim McMahon (1986--headband controversy), Bill Parcells (1987--Gatorade showers), and Mark Jackson, Vance Johnson and Ricky Nattiel (1988--Three Amigos).

The premise is simple. Every year, hundreds of media people are sent to the Super Bowl with orders to report back with stories, stories, stories. But how many times can you rehash the season, dissect offenses and defenses, bring back old-timers, and talk about the (fill in the blank with an owner, coach or player) who is finally getting his big chance in the Super spotlight?

So this pack of reporters goes in search of the unusual, the colorful and the unique.

What they often come up with, however, is the absurd. The most inane events are built up to monstrous proportions under the lens of this Super microscope. The harshest critics of Super Bowl hype become its biggest purveyors.

One year, McMahon referred to hookers in New Orleans and you would have thought that city was responding to another attack by the British.

And now comes Ickey. Talk about colorful and unique. Take one star running back, add a ponytail, enough jewelry to draw the envy of Mr. T and a touchdown celebration that violates the spirit if not the letter of the law of the National Football League’s austere no-spike rule and you’ve got fodder for a national craze.

Not to mention posters, videos and dance fever. If he wants to, Woods can probably shuffle his way across the country, from Carson to Letterman.

By Super Sunday, we’ll all be shuffle bored.

Even the Ickster, as his teammates call him.

Last Monday, the day after his team had defeated the Buffalo Bills, 21-10, in the American Football Conference title game, Woods told reporters he was already tired of talking about The Shuffle.

That’s understandable. He’d like to talk a little bit about his footwork on the field. After all, he is more than just Dancing Barry with shoulder pads.

As a senior at Nevada Las Vegas, Woods led the nation with a school-record 1,658 yards rushing, averaged 6.4 yards per carry and scored 10 touchdowns.

The Bengals finally picked him in the second round of the 1988 draft and he responded with another slew of big numbers. The 6-foot, 231-pound Woods gained 1,066 yards this season, scored 15 touchdowns rushing, 1 fewer than league leader Greg Bell, and averaged 5.3 yards per carry, second only to Philadelphia Eagles quarterback Randall Cunningham, who had far fewer attempts.

In his first playoff game, Woods led all rushers with 126 yards and scored a touchdown. In the AFC title game, he was again the leading rusher with 102 yards and 2 touchdowns.

“If he was not a good football player the other stuff wouldn’t mean nothing,” Cincinnati running back coach Jim Anderson said. “But he has strength, he has quickness and he has tremendous cutting ability.”

Paul Brown, Bengal vice president and general manager, has seen a few running backs in nearly half a century in football, including Jim Brown, but Woods still impresses him.

“This is a quick fullback,” Brown said. “When you talk about our run offense--start in here and bounce out there--he fits this.”

The big question in Cincinnati Coach Sam Wyche’s mind before the draft was whether Woods would fit in at all.

There was the matter of how his appearance would be perceived in conservative Cincinnati, how far he could go in the NFL and how far he had come from his troublesome days as a youth in Fresno.

“Was he a 1-year flash in the pan, or were we catching him on the upswing?” Wyche said. “We heard some other things, too; that he didn’t always give 100% in practice. We looked at film, talked to his coaches and even went back to his hometown. It was worth our effort. This was a big investment for us.”

There were problems in college, admitted Wayne Nunnely, Woods’ coach at UNLV.

“He was not as committed to football as he should have been with the talent he had until his senior year,” Nunnely said. “He needed to make a commitment to use his God-given talent. He was inconsistent. Some days he would work hard. Some days, he would not demonstrate a great commitment.”

His problems originated back home in Fresno. Woods grew up in a gang and drug environment, but it wasn’t that bad, Anderson insisted.

“He was just another guy,” Anderson said. “You take any guy who was poor, and born and raised in the projects, in any town in the USA, and that’s Ickey Woods. As a child, he didn’t live the American dream.”

How involved was Woods in gang life? You be the judge based on this exchange last week between a reporter and Woods:

Reporter: “Were you ever a member of a gang?”

Woods: “Nope. I just hung around with a group of fellows.”

Reporter: “Did you fellows call yourselves anything?”

Woods: “Yeah, we called ourselves The Godfathers.”

Reporter: “And you wouldn’t call that a gang?”

Woods: “You might call it a gang. I’d call it a group of guys having fun.”

For Woods, the fun ran out when he returned to Fresno from Las Vegas for spring break in his junior year. He was supposed to get together one evening with an old friend named Andre Horn.

“We just didn’t hook up,” Woods said.

Good thing.

In the early morning hours, Woods got a call. Horn had been found dead, shot 19 times, his throat slit.

“That made me think that I could go at any time,” he said. “I realized that was not a way to live. I just wanted a way out.”

So he ran--to daylight. Woods came back to UNLV a new man, devoted to football.

The same month Horn was murdered, another tragedy struck close to Woods. A younger brother, 16-year-old Leonard, was killed by a drunk driver, further hardening Ickey’s resolve to make something of his life.

“We sat down and talked about it,” said Nunnely of Woods’ somber return to Las Vegas after the tragedies. “We talked about how life goes on, how you can’t let things affect you. When you see how frail life is, you have to do as much as can while you’re still here.”

“We talked about that and I saw a change.”

Woods wasn’t even a starter until his senior season at UNLV. After suffering a shoulder injury in the opener that season, Woods didn’t start the second game against Baylor. But he came on in the second half to gain more than 100 yards.

“That was the start of Ickey Woods,” Nunnely said. “He was in the starting lineup after that. I always thought he had the potential that he has demonstrated week in and week out with the Bengals. That’s a great marriage there with that offensive line, and the style they run. He cuts back well, has good vision and the speed to get around the corner.

“That’s what we did with him here. He’d start outside, and sometimes bounce back and break tackles. He can cause havoc inside as well.”

When Woods’ senior season was over and Anderson had investigated his life style, the assistant coach went to see Paul Brown.

“Can he play football?” Brown asked.

“Yes, he can, Coach,” Anderson replied.

“That’s all I want to know,” Brown said.

Still, when Woods reported to Cincinnati, Wyche arranged for a car to meet the rookie and bring him directly to the head coach’s office. There he was told the facts of life in Cincinnati.

“I wanted to brief him on the change in terrain,” Wyche said. “He was leaving Las Vegas and coming into the conservative Midwest with his jewelry and his ponytail. I wanted to make sure he came across the way he was, genuine and likable. I let him make his own decision on keeping the ponytail.”

No decision to make for Woods.

“I’m here to play football from 9 to 5,” he said. “What I do after that is my business.”

Anderson never doubted Woods would find acceptance in his new home.

“I knew he had the personality,” Anderson said. “He’s the kind of guy who never met a stranger. By that, I mean, you may be a stranger when he meets you, but he quickly makes you feel like you’ve known him all your life.”

But nobody, not Wyche, not Anderson, not even Woods dreamed the rookie would find his way quite as quickly and as deeply as he has into the hearts of the fans.

It began against the Cleveland Browns. A touchdown triggered a spontaneous celebration by Woods. And the rocking, stomping, two-step shuffle was born.

“It took off like wildfire,” he said. “I still wonder how this crazy dance got so popular. Everywhere I go, everybody wants to see it.”

Awkward at first, Woods has, like any good performer, refined and enhanced his act. He does it on the sidelines by his own bench rather than the end zone, to avoid the penalty that follows any celebration deemed too inflammatory by the officials.

Woods has been accused of the ultimate sin of any dancer, lacking rhythm. In a news conference after the AFC title game, somebody told him the same thing had been said of Elvis Presley.

“Yeah,” Woods replied, “and we’re both back on top now, aren’t we?”

Woods has recently added the Woo-Woo-Woo, including the defensive backs, known as The Swat Team, in his routine. After finishing The Shuffle, Woods is surrounded by Swat Teamers who all join him in waving a finger in a circular motion.

This is big stuff in Cincinnati. Right now, there’s a hot dispute going on over whether there should be 3 Woos or 5 Woos in this newest exercise.

Throughout the city, nurses lead patients in The Shuffle. Teachers lead students. A local club, the Waterfront, rocks to The Shuffle nightly. Even Brown, 80, has tried a little soft shoe.

What’s next? Brown in a ponytail?

What Woods would really like to do is have his mother, Sylvia Taylor, join him on the Super Bowl sidelines for a Shuffle duo. He claims she is the real master of the dance. But don’t look for the NFL to permit that. The league isn’t about to let its hype get out of hand.

Nevertheless, the legend of Ickey Woods seems assured. Born Elbert Woods, he became Ickey because that’s the best a little brother, Rodney, could do in trying to pronounce his name. He nows tells teammates Elbert is his “business name.”

Said Bengal quarterback Boomer Esiason: “Ickey creates a personality for this team. He gives some oomph to a team that hasn’t had much. We are going to give this country some intense personalities.”

Whoa! Whoa! Stop the merry-go-around. Before this thing gets totally out of control, Woods wants to get off just to catch his breath.

Fun is fun, but Super Bowl hype is not.

Surrounded by fans and media at Spinney Field, the Bengals’ Cincinnati practice site, last Monday, Woods had already had enough.

“I got to get out of here,” he mumbled to a reporter. “We’ve got 2 days off and I’ve got to get some airplane tickets and get to Fresno. Be with my grandparents. Be with my family. Get away.”

And with that, he made a move as shifty as any he has made on the field, leaving behind the crowds, the Bengals and even his street clothes, still hanging in a locker stall.

Dressed in a Bengal warmup suit, he darted out the door and into a waiting car, headed for the airport, shuffling off center stage for a few precious days.

He’ll be back.

America demands it.