Loud, Proud but Hard to Find in a Crowd : Antelope Valley’s Lewis Makes Short Work of High-Profile Teams

Selected short stories about Jermaine Lewis, the Lilliputian tailback at Antelope Valley High. . . .

Tall tales, they are not.

Over the past two weeks, against the best competition the state has had to offer, the diminutive sophomore has electrified his teammates, fans and coaches despite his less-than-statuesque build.

Ever put your tongue on a nine-volt battery? It’s tiny, but it packs a heckuva jolt.

* Lewis was in the midst of a scintillating run against heavily favored Bakersfield two weeks ago when teammate Chris Tapia yanked him from a dogpile-in-the-making and redirected him downfield.

“He just grabbed me, pulled me out of a tackle, and I ran the rest of the way,” Lewis said. “That’s a benefit of being small.”

Palmed by a teammate. Could be a first. Lewis completed the 80-yard run for a touchdown.

* Same game. Lewis takes a handoff and darts into a sea of swirling uniforms. Nobody, including onlookers a few feet away on the sideline, can see him. He reappears a heartbeat later, heading due north, with defensive backs nipping at his heels.

Several teammates, having witnessed his disappearing act before, giggle.

“I like to cut back, spin, to use a few moves here and there,” Lewis said. “When I see that opening, I try to hit it as fast as I can before the linebackers make their reads.

“I’m so small, I can squeeze through the tiniest of holes.”

* Lewis is in the process of inhaling a cheeseburger when the topic of his size, or lack thereof, is broached. He doesn’t bat an eye.

“Weighed myself a couple of days ago and was at 138,” he said. “But it was in the morning and I hadn’t had a chance to eat.”

Nibble on this additional tidbit: “My height? I’m 5-6 on a good day.”

There have been lots of good nights lately. Fridays, specifically.

* Earlier in the week, in a free-for-all of a different sort--the line at the school cafeteria--his older teammates used and abused him.

“I guess they like me ‘cause I’m small,” Lewis said. “When I stand in line, they put their arm on my shoulder. They say I’m a good armrest.”

* During practice, Lewis sometimes attempts to straight-arm defenders, who can’t keep a straight face.

“He tries,” said C.J. Fagan, a defensive back. “He tries . But his arm’s not all that long.”

* Lewis roams the hallways, basking in the glory of consecutive 100-yard efforts against state-ranked competition. Girls swarm to the effervescent hero and pat him on the head.

“They say stuff like, ‘You look so cute out there, “ said Lewis, 16.

Cute! Hardly a player’s favorite adjective. But Lewis doesn’t seem to mind.

“Size doesn’t really matter,” Lewis said. “It’s how good you can play. I’ve always been the smallest one on the team.

“It’s no big deal.”

Maybe not, but Lewis is.

He bolted into prominence with standout performances against Bakersfield and Loyola, teams that usually surrender rushing yardage by the inch, not in 100-yard increments.

In four games, Lewis ranks 11th among area Southern Section running backs with 470 yards, though he didn’t start at tailback until the third week. When most folks see Lewis play, though, the only statistics they seem interested in are vital.

How old are you? How tall are you? Do you get child discount tickets at the movie theater?

If Lewis experiences a growth spurt, his statistics should grow exponentially. Alas, chromosomes are an iffy proposition. Lewis’ mother is 5-4, his father 5-10, his brother 5-6.

“I’d like to at least get to 5-8 or 5-10,” said Lewis, who bench-presses 210 pounds and was electronically timed at 11.3 over 100 meters last spring as a freshman.

Lewis is the perfect front man for Antelope Valley, which is 3-1 and ranked 13th in the state by Cal-Hi Sports. There are only 33 players on the varsity, none of whom would turn heads at the local gym. Esprit de corps is remarkably high.

“We’re small and quick,” Lewis said. “Nobody on the team ever quits. Most of us played Pop Warner together, everyone knows each other. You can feel the love out there.”

You can hear his voice out there. Lewis may be a 2-by-4 running amok among bigger studs, but he isn’t exactly the quiet, unassuming type. He claims to be the biggest trash-talker on the team. On the field, he entertains in the huddle by cracking jokes.

Lewis’ secret is his low center of gravity. He is also the high center of levity.

“He’s a clown,” quarterback Mike Gleich said. “He’ll do anything for a laugh.”

Sometimes, all he has to do is run with the ball. Imagine if you will, a player of Lewis’ stature being pursued by hapless, lead-footed, 240-pound linemen. If they catch him, Lewis becomes a greasy spot on the 50-yard line. Yet they never seem to get a clean shot at him.

“It’s kind of funny to watch,” Gleich said. “And it’s kind of amazing.”

It looks like a Tom and Jerry cartoon. Lewis flies like Mighty Mouse.

“He’s like a pinball out there,” Gleich said.

Watch him light up the crowd. Or the coaching staff. Lewis started the season as one of three tailbacks in a shuttle system, sharing time with seniors Chad Murphy and Fagan. In the second week, against West Bakersfield, Lewis rushed for a team-high 80 yards in eight carries and scored

on a pass reception. He began lobbying Coach Brent Newcomb for the starting job. Again.

Lewis: “Why can’t I get 15 carries a game? I’ll get you 100 if I do.”

Newcomb: “How about 20?”

Lewis: “Fine with me.”

Fine, indeed. Lewis was put in the starting lineup against Bakersfield, which entered the game ranked third in the state. Running back Steve Wofford, the Cal-Hi state sophomore player of the year in 1992, rushed for 265 yards and four touchdowns the week before in a 48-21 rout of Kennedy. In the first half.

Newcomb issued the news in the form of a thinly veiled challenge.

“You and Wofford are going to go head-up,” the coach said.

First start notwithstanding, Lewis boldly informed Newcomb that he intended to outgain Wofford.

“We’ll see about that,” Newcomb said, wondering whether Lewis was supremely confident or supremely delusional.

Lewis (247 yards in 28 carries) outgained Wofford (178 in 31) and stole the spotlight, despite the fact that Bakersfield held on for a 19-16 victory. If not for his untimely fumble near the goal line in the game’s final moments, Lewis might already be a cult hero at Antelope Valley.

“I knew I needed to come out with a bag of tricks,” said Lewis, who posted a grade-point average of 3.6 as a freshman. “I went back to Pop Warner and freshman football and used everything I could think of.”

He bagged touchdowns on runs of 68 and 80 yards.

“I’m not sure what he looked like, he ran by so fast,” said Bakersfield Coach Pat Preston, who can’t recall any running back gaining more than 200 yards against the Drillers in his eight seasons as coach.

Antelope Valley, in fact, is the only team in four games to net more than 100 rushing yards against unbeaten Bakersfield, and Lewis had 108 by halftime. Fear can definitely be a motivating factor.

“I didn’t look back and I didn’t stop until I got to the back of the end zone,” Lewis cracked. “Despite (the fumble), that game was a great ego-booster.”

Encore? Last week, Lewis rushed for 108 yards in a wild, 15-14 upset of Loyola, which entered the game ranked sixth in the state and traditionally features one of the Southland’s nastiest defenses.

The last running back to gain 100 yards on the ground against Loyola was San Gorgonio’s Ron Rivers (Fresno State) in the semifinals of the Division I playoffs. . . . in 1989.

Even former Crespi All-American Russell White (Cal, Rams) failed to gain 100 yards in any of three games against Loyola. Former Servite standout Derek Brown (Nebraska, New Orleans Saints) and Antelope Valley’s own Tommie Smith, who later starred at Washington, were similarly stifled.

“(Lewis) is very, very scary,” said Loyola defensive coordinator Jon Dawson. “We were impressed with him going in, and we’re impressed with him coming out.”

Lewis might be a surprise to some, but Newcomb certainly knew Lewis’ arrival was imminent. Lewis rushed for 2,024 yards and 27 touchdowns on the Antelope Valley freshman team last season and was called up to the varsity and played briefly in last season’s 24-10 loss to Long Beach Wilson in the first round of the Division I playoffs.

By then, Lewis had already told anybody who would listen that he was the Antelopes’ next big back, so to speak. And speak he did.

Said Lewis to a reporter covering a varsity game: “You’ll be writing about me next year.”

Maybe after puberty kicks in and you stop buying clothes from the Winnie the Pooh collection, the reporter sniffed. After all, Lewis was 5-foot-3 at the time. Even the cheerleaders were bigger.

Yet Lewis--this will not be news to his teammates--had the last word. Among the top 14 Southern Section rushing leaders in the area, Lewis is the only back who isn’t a senior and has the second-fewest carries among the bunch.

The day soon will come when his teammates hoist him on their shoulders after a victory and tote him off the field. Not that it’s more than a one-man job. Not that it hasn’t been done before, sort of.

Lewis is the quarterback of the scout-team offense. In practice this week, he was knocked on his keister while attempting to throw downfield. The pass was batted to the turf by a defensive lineman.

The lineman reached down, grabbed Lewis by his shoulder pads and picked him up .

“I’ve always played against the big boys,” Lewis said. “I’ve gotten the snot knocked out of me a couple of times. But they have to catch me first.”