BAM’S LAST CHANCE

Bam Morris will always remember the pain in his mother’s eyes as the handcuffs snapped shut around his wrists.

He’d had every opportunity, every advantage that comes with being one of the best running backs in the country, and he’d blown it. Now there he was on his way to jail for violating probation, the threat of a 10-year prison sentence ringing in his ears.

That was when Morris finally started to wise up.

“For the longest time, I took my talent for granted,” he said. “The style I was in, the mode I was in, I think I took everything for granted until I had a chance to lose it.”

After years of doing whatever he wanted and thinking rules were for other people, Morris is on his last chance. The Chicago Bears running back promises he’s a changed man this time, and friends and colleagues say he’s sincere.

He’d better be. Another screw up, and his talent on the football field won’t mean a thing.

“I don’t think my football ability was ever questioned. I can play,” he said. “As far as the character, about off the field, that was the thing.”

With a quick smile and an infectious laugh, Morris hardly looks like someone with such a troubled past. But he looks older than just 26, and he speaks with the wisdom of someone who’s seen a lot.

He talks openly about his problems, most of which stem from being caught with about 6 pounds of marijuana in the trunk of his Mercedes-Benz. And he hopes he can prevent someone else from making the same mistakes.

“I had nobody, really, watching me and telling me this is wrong and that’s wrong,” he said. “I always thought, ‘I have no control over it. If it happens, it happens. It was meant to happen.’ That was always my excuse.

“But now the way I look at it is, ‘What I want to happen, I’m going to make it happen.”’

At the beginning of his career, Byron “Bam” Morris looked as if nothing could stop him.

He was the top prep rusher in Texas as a senior, running for 2,972 yards and 39 touchdowns, and he continued to shine at Texas Tech. His 1,752 yards as a senior broke Earl Campbell’s Southwest Conference rushing record, and he received the 1993 Doak Walker Award as the nation’s top running back.

By his second season with the Pittsburgh Steelers, Morris had become one of the NFL’s best backs. In the 1996 Super Bowl, he rushed for a game-high 73 yards and a touchdown in a losing effort.

And then his life began to fall apart.

On March 22, 1996, he was arrested near Rockwall, Texas, after a state trooper stopped him for not wearing a seat belt and found the marijuana in his car. He pleaded guilty that June to possession and was given six years’ probation. The Pittsburgh Steelers released him.

The Baltimore Ravens signed him in September 1996, but he was suspended for four games for violating the NFL’s substance abuse policy.

The problems didn’t end there. He was suspended for the first four games of the 1997 season after an offseason NFL test revealed he’d used alcohol. When he missed seven meetings with his probation officer from July 1996 to August 1997, prosecutors hauled him back to court.

On Jan. 12, as part of a plea bargain, Morris was sentenced to four months in county jail with his mother, Marie, looking on in court. Make one more mistake, the judge said, and Morris would serve the rest of his 10-year probation in prison.

Morris, who was released by Baltimore after his sentencing, served 89 days.

“Even though he got in trouble, I don’t think the reality of it hit him until he got sent to jail,” said Josh Kaufmann, Morris’ agent. “Then it was, ‘Whoa! Wait a minute. This isn’t a slap on the wrist. I’m in a really serious situation here.”’

While Morris was committed to turning his life around, many NFL teams weren’t so sure. After the high-profile problems of players such as Lawrence Phillips, Michael Irvin and Alonzo Spellman, few teams were willing to take a chance.

The Bears, however, took one. With top draft pick Curtis Enis holding out, Chicago needed someone to back up Edgar Bennett. Morris signed a one-year contract worth about $500,000.

“He did not try to hide anything,” said Rick Spielman, the team’s director of pro personnel. “He realized this might be his last chance, and he’s done everything we’ve asked him to do. And beyond that.”

Though Morris had a strong training camp, showing he hadn’t lost any of his bruising talent, he dropped to third string when Enis signed. He didn’t play in the first game, and got just two carries last weekend. The Bears plan to keep him the rest of the season, though, in part because they know he can step in right away if Enis or Bennett get hurt.

While Morris is anxious to play, he knows being on the field isn’t the most important thing right now.

“The issue is whether he can stay out of trouble,” Kaufmann said.

And Morris is making every effort. Instead of hanging out with friends, he spends his time off the field with his wife, Stephanie, and his daughter, Courtney. His former Steelers teammate, John L. Williams, has become a surrogate big brother and often travels with Morris on road trips.

Morris moves forward by constantly reminding himself of where he’s been. Though it hurts to remember, he thinks of the pain he saw in his mother’s eyes. Of how badly he hurt his daughter and wife.

And of what it was like to hear those jail doors clang shut every night.

“I feel like I’m 33 and I’ve been in the league for 12 years,” he said. “It just feels like it’s been a long time with all of the stuff I’ve been through. It aged me. You can guarantee, I think it aged me for the better.

“My mind is clear. I see everything I didn’t see four years ago.”