Designated Hitter : College football: Woods, Cal State Northridge safety, redirects his anger from the streets to the football field.

Years ago, a young James (Scoody) Woods considered his surroundings, considered the statistics he’d heard, and asked his mother, “By the age of 17 I’m supposed to be dead, right?”

The horrifying truth is, back then few people would have been surprised if Woods became another statistic, a victim of saying the wrong thing to the wrong people.

Instead, Woods, 20, is a junior at Cal State Northridge, splitting his time between starring for the football team and working toward medical school.

A junior safety and the most-experienced player on the Northridge defense, Woods is in this position thanks to three people: Alice Woods, his mother; Ernest Howard, a former coach; and Sue Leon, a friend whom he considers his second mother.

“If it wasn’t for those three,” Woods said, “I think I would be in jail or dead right now.”

A three-year starter, Woods is among the most talented and popular players on the team, a far cry from the reputation he had as a youngster.

“Scoody was a bad kid; that’s the bottom line,” said Howard, who coached Woods in football and baseball until he started at San Fernando High.

Said Alice Woods: “He was terrible. He would rather fight than eat. . . . I went to school as much as Scoody did because he was always in trouble.”

Woods jokingly suggests that he holds the record for getting suspended from seventh grade for fighting. It happened seven or eight times.

Friends and family members aren’t sure where all the anger came from, but there are plenty of possibilities.

Woods was born in Houston, the 11th child in his family. He earned his nickname because he would scoot away from anyone who tried to hold him.

Before Scoody’s second birthday, Alice Woods left the youngster’s father. With $60 and six bus tickets, she took Scoody and four of his brothers to Los Angeles. The other children already had left home.

The family lived with Alice Woods’ brother for a while, then bounced from apartment to apartment in the San Fernando Valley. During a four-month stretch after they had been evicted, the family was homeless.

Woods recalls sleeping in a car near Hansen Dam, waking up and going to elementary school.

Whether it was the poverty, living without a father, or just being the youngest and most-picked-on kid in the family, Woods was a troublemaker from age 9 to about 14.

“I just had a real bad chip on my shoulder,” he said. “I couldn’t be told anything. I would go off for no reason. I would fight for no reason.”

Howard said he saw through the anger and tried to help Woods. As Woods learned to trust Howard, their relationship became more like father and son than coach and player.

Leon, manager of Woods’ Pop Warner football team, also was drawn to him.

“Within Scoody, as much anger as he had as a child, there was a great sense of intelligence,” Leon said. “He was constantly looking for answers.”

Leon introduced Woods to a variety of experiences, ranging from the film “Roots” to Disneyland.

By the time Woods started high school, he was more mature.

“He started to really understand some of the things that myself and his mother and others tried to get over to him,” Howard said.

Said Woods: “I was close to fights in high school, but I just walked away.”

Instead, he took out his aggression out on the football field.

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As a three-year starter at defensive back for San Fernando, Woods earned a reputation as a ferocious tackler. He also started in the outfield for the Tiger baseball team.

As a senior, Woods made The Times’ All-Valley football team. But the only major college that expressed interest was Hawaii.

Northridge coaches noticed Woods while watching films of his heavily recruited teammates, Brian Brison and LaKarlos Townsend. They offered him a partial scholarship and Woods jumped at the opportunity.

Woods used his redshirt year in 1992, and was a starter for the Matadors in ’93 and ’94. His college football debut was against San Diego State at Jack Murphy Stadium, where he was charged with, among other things, stopping Marshall Faulk.

“When I was coming down that tunnel, I was thinking ‘Why am I here?’ ” he said. “I was questioning my ability. I was about to go back in the locker room and sit down. Walking down that tunnel was the longest walk of my life.”

Woods made 13 tackles, including nine solos, against the Aztecs, and he hasn’t slowed down since. He was eighth on the team in tackles in 1993 and second last year. He is known not just for the quantity of his tackles but also the quality.

“Scoody is kind of like Ronnie Lott,” said Darren Walton, a senior running back. “He lays a big hit and he sparks the whole defense, the whole team.”

Said Woods, who is 6 feet 1, 190 pounds: “I’d rather just lay you out than run around chasing you.”

The Matadors have only two returning starters on defense, so Woods is expected to provide leadership.

“In our system, the safety is like the quarterback of the defense,” said Foster Anderson, coach of the Northridge safeties.

Northridge defenders look to Woods for guidance, and Woods looks toward the bleachers.

“I always look into the stands to see my mom,” he said. “When I see her, I am ready to play. If we are on the road, if I don’t talk to my mom on the phone before the game, it would be hard for me to get ready to play.”

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Woods and his mother are more like best friends. He calls her every night, and they talk about school or football.

Woods knows the sacrifices his mother made to raise him and he is committed to paying her back.

“I’m living my life right now with football and school to get in a position where I can help my mom live the type of life she deserves,” Woods said. “I told myself when I was little, before I die, my mom is going to be able to relax.”

But Alice Woods seems rewarded enough by what her son already has accomplished.

“I just want him to be someone the community can be proud of,” she said. “As a black male, coming from a one-parent home and living in Pacoima, you can make it.”