Padecky: An underrated Wildcat

The tattoo begins on Scooby Wright’s right shoulder and then extends down his right arm almost to the elbow. Most of the tattoo is in black ink, except for a red streak. That would be the trail of blood that leads to the head of Goliath, his face in utter shock, the look of what-the-heck-just-happened sealing the act of the little guy taking down the big guy.

David is slaying Goliath right there on Wright’s body, and the former Cardinal Newman star will never tire of it being an accurate representation of himself. His star may be rising as it is now - actually it has the trajectory of a rocket launch - but Wright has a long memory. It will never dull the words he heard one day at a Cal Berkeley football camp in 2012.

“You may want to try Sac (Sacramento) State,” a Cal coach told Wright and his father, Phil.

Wright will forget his first name before he forgets that sentence.

This would be the perfect time for Wright to give that Cal coach a call and say, “So how do you like me now?”

Wright, a sophomore middle linebacker at the University of Arizona, leads the Pac-12 in tackles (58). He was a freshman All-American last year, an honorable mention All-Pac-12. He started every game since he was a freshman. In its pre-season analysis of every Division 1 school, ESPN named Wright as Arizona’s Most Important Player. He has become a star, a bonafide campus celebrity who became national news last Thursday in Eugene, Ore. Wright was the first Arizona player interviewed by ESPN after the game.

There was a reason for that. With one play, Wright reduced if not eliminated Oregon’s chances of winning a national championship and diminished considerably Oregon quarterback Marcus Mariota’s quest to win the Heisman Trophy. With one play.

“I honestly didn’t know how I did it,” Wright said. “I couldn’t picture how I did it. I had to look at the JumboTron. ‘Wow,’ I said to myself. ‘I did that?’?”

Wright had a lot going against him with 2:20 left in the game, a familiar position for him. Arizona was leading, 31-24, but Oregon had the ball first-and-10 at the 34. Oregon was the No. 2 ranked team in the country. This would be when Mariota would show he deserves the Heisman. The game was at Eugene. And of course, like the Cal coach said, Wright wasn’t good enough to play in the Pac-12.

Mariota took the snap. Wright caught him from behind.

“I’ve always been taught if you catch someone from behind,” Wright said, “they don’t see you. Go for the ball.”

Wright wanted to just knock the ball loose. So he slapped at the ball. A most remarkable thing happened.

“My entire hand covered the ball,” he said.

The replay showed the smoothest fumble ever accomplished in the sport. As Mariota and Wright were falling to the ground, Wright took the ball away not with a jerk, not with any abruptness. It was like a handoff. It happened so quickly everyone had to look at the replay. Wright took the ball to his midsection and hit the ground. Arizona ran out the clock.

Oregon, a 23-point favorite, loses. At home. To an unranked team. To a team that’s never played in the Rose Bowl. Oh, yes, it was Mariota’s first turnover of the season.

“It was probably the best play of my life,” Wright said.

Not that he puffed out his chest.

“It was the worst game I played all season,” he said.

But you caused that fumble … recovered that fumble … you should …

“One play doesn’t make a player,” Wright interrupted.

In that one sentence, Wright defined himself more succinctly than any tattoo, better even than one of his favorite Biblical passages: “As iron sharpens iron, so does one man sharpen another.”

Wright finds it impossible to feel full of himself, as if the very act of self-absorption inflates him, bloats him to a sluggish blob of ineffectiveness.

“The minute you think you’ve got it made,” Wright said, “you’ll get kicked in the teeth.”

As a boy, Wright was schooled on that philosophy from his dad, himself a standout player at Long Beach State, now the softball coach at SRJC. Plays, strategy, preparation, all of that can change in a game and frequently does. But effort, there’s no excuse for not giving it.

“I’ve always been the guy who was never the biggest or the fastest or the strongest,” said Wright, 6-foot-1, 246 pounds, 16 pounds more than he weighed at Newman. “But no one can put a cap on enthusiasm.”

There may have never been a football player better than Wright in turning criticism and rejection into motivation. In his Tucson apartment and also at his locker at Arizona Stadium, Wright has taped on a wall a scouting report from NorCal Preps. Wright was a senior at Newman when the evaluator wrote, among other things: “His speed and athleticism is worrisome … it looks like he could be exploited in coverage and outside runs at the Pac-12 level … physical limitations put a cap on how good he can be … Wright doesn’t have the kind of lateral quickness that you would like to see from a linebacker at the college level.”

Geez, why doesn’t the scout just come out and say Wright moves like Jabba the Hutt after a sandwich?

So is it any coincidence that Wright’s two best games in his fledgling college career have come against Cal, 11 tackles in last year’s game and 18 stops against Cal this year? By the way, those 18 tackles are the most by an Arizona player in 15 years.

“I probably have a little extra fuel for the Cal games,” said Wright, displaying the value of understatement.

Fact is, Wright was born with a little extra fuel. He has that spark of alertness. Movement is natural for him. And with that monkey on his shoulders always chattering to him about how he has been disrespected, Wright found himself consumed to the point he had to do something contrary to his nature. A couple of months ago, he rechanneled his zest.

“Last year, I was stressing out,” he said. “I was walking on eggshells. I was always trying not to mess up.”

Wright didn’t have to dial it down. He just had to dial it in a different direction. He let his football instincts take over. Splice that to memorizing Arizona’s defensive scheme. It allowed for more of his talent to emerge. He began to completely trust his skills.

“I feel relaxed now,” Wright said.

Now, Wright doesn’t walk on eggshells. The guy assigned to block him does. It is the subtle but distinctive transfer of power a defense always seeks, that a defense is the block wall. Try to move us. It could make Wright ease up on the gas.

I tried testing him one more time about being comfortable.

“Scooby, it’ll be hard for you to keep being David if you play like Goliath.”

Wright’s response? He didn’t have one. It wasn’t necessary. One play doesn’t make a player. Neither does one season.

Scooby Wright will wait until after his very last football game, whenever that is, before he dismisses David and thanks him for his service. Why? Scooby’s having too much fun to do otherwise, being so disrespectful to disrespect.

To contact Bob Padecky email him at bobpadecky@gmail.com.