Making It Happen

Turner, left, has complimented Westbrook's work ethic during his fourth training camp this summer. (File Photo)

But will Westbrook go this season? Or won't he? And, if he doesn't, whose fault is that?

Les Steckel, Westbrook's position coach at Colorado and a man who both loves and defends him fiercely, is quick to acknowledge that Westbrook is a part of the problem. "I know a lot of gifted athletes who are not self-motivated – you have to do something extra to get it out of them – and Michael is in that category," Steckel said in a recent phone call from Tennessee, where he serves as the Oilers' offensive coordinator. Steckel also clearly finds fault in the Redskins' handling of Westbrook.

"Look, I'm not speaking anything negative about the Washington Redskins – please understand that I have the utmost respect for Norv Turner – but the bottom line is, if you have a great athlete it's your job to get the most out of him, and to find out how you do that.

"It all boils down to an integrity or trust issue between a player and a coach," he continued, "and I'm not saying anything negative about [Robiskie] – he has a great reputation in this league – and I can't say enough good things about Norv Turner. But I know when I talk to Mike that he loves playing football... I think with Michael, somebody needs to, well, I put my arm around him when he needed to be reprimanded, you have to do it in a certain way, but he needed to be reprimanded."

Reprimands, though, have been few and far between for Westbrook in his days as a Redskin. The prevailing perception is that Westbrook has been coddled by the organization, and regular observers note that he is rarely – if ever – yelled at in practice or in games. And there are those, Steckel among them, who believe that by gently nurturing Westbrook's career – that by continuing to explain away his mistakes for him – the Redskins are not serving Westbrook's best interests.

To illustrate his point, Steckel likes to tell the story of the two-week boot camp he put Westbrook through at the end of his freshman year at Colorado, when head coach Bill McCartney was threatening to ship Westbrook back to his hometown Detroit. Given one last chance to turn himself under Steckel's direction, Westbrook blossomed, responding to Steckel's discipline in a way he had not responded throughout the year. At one point in the two-week process, Steckel said, he turned to Westbrook and said, "Do you know why I'm doing this?" And this was Westbrook's answer: "Yeah, because you care about me."

"I really believe that the right atmosphere has to be set, and you have to work at the relationship," Steckel said. "You have to understand with Michael, there are some missing voids that he has in his life."

Steckel was referring to Westbrook's childhood and home life at that point – Westbrook was raised by his mother and grandmother in a middle-income neighborhood in Detroit and once described his family as having "been through a lot." Casserly, too, points to what he calls "a very, very tough home situation," and the impact that such a situation has had on Westbrook's life.

"For him just to have come out of that is amazing," Casserly said.

When healthy, Westbrook, right, has been known to make some amazing plays on the field. (File Photo)

But while Steckel met Westbrook when he had just left home – and while Steckel was dealing with an individual who had to shape up or face a one-way ticket back to his old neighborhood – the Redskins are dealing with a different Michael Westbrook. The Redskins have to figure out how to motivate a player who already has a $5 million signing bonus, a prized Lamborghini, a big house in the suburbs with a built-in movie theater and lifetime security for both himself and his beloved family back home in Detroit.

It's not an easy task, and neither is getting to know Westbrook – football player or man. Westbrook is frequently described as an extremely private person and his unwillingness to both talk to the media and, far more notable, get engaged in community-related activities through the Redskins' organization, make it easy to imagine Westbrook as sullen, or unfriendly. So many people go out of their way to deny this, though, that it is impossible to believe.

People know that Westbrook punched Davis at practice; they do not know that he has shared a unique two-year relationship with a little girl in the Washington area who was infected with AIDS at birth – that he pays all her medical costs and even threw a birthday party last year. People saw Westbrook get a costly penalty from throwing his helmet in the Giants game; people cannot see the way he gently hugs his grandmother, or the way he laughs and jokes, his face lit up, when he runs into former friends from Colorado, such as quarterback Kordell Stewart, now with the Pittsburgh Steelers.

People cannot know, or see, those things because Westbrook will not allow them to – his fierce distrust of outsiders is perhaps matched only by his fierce need to be loved by those whom he does let close. Even his teammates are kept at a distance.

Brian Mitchell, who counts himself among the few players Westbrook laughs and jokes and hangs with in practice and in the locker room, sees a lot of his younger self in Westbrook – in the over-eager mistakes Westbrook makes on the field, in the uncertainty he sometimes shows, in the obvious difficulty he has had adjusting to the NFL. And Mitchell watched when Westbrook went to his mandatory weekly counseling sessions last season – a result of the Davis incident – and he saw how uncomfortable they made Westbrook. Not that Westbrook ever let the subject be broached.

"I watched him, and I could see he didn't really want to go," Mitchell said. "It was torture for him, being forced to go through that – having to talk to strangers about those kinds of things."

Green, too, has watched from his vantage point as the most veteran Redskin in the locker room. He wants to break down the wall, but he, too, does not know how to reach Westbrook. He merely wants to understand him.

"I hate a lot of the incidents that have taken place," Green said, "but I have a lot of grace for the man and I know the team and the coaching staff does and I just hope the public does too. Because he is a good kid. He really is."

Westbrook's relationship with his teammates is complicated by his status as the first-round draft pick, as the player who held out his first training camp and then arrived toting a seven-year contract worth approximately $18 million. Green doesn't know what it feels like to be put in that position, but he can sense how hard it's been for Westbrook. And though he has some sympathy for the situation, even he refuses to cut Westbrook too much slack.

"Like it or not, that's the way it is," he said. "I'm not here because I'm a nice guy or whatever, I'm here because I can cover receivers and when that's no longer the case, then I'm gone. And what a young kid has to realize is it is that way. But the problem is, on this level, you've got to work.

"It's hard for [Westbrook] to make the adjustment, I know. They've loved him and so forth for what he did in college and then he's here and they'll love him here for a little because of who he is, but oops! Time ran out on Michael Westbrook. Now there's a performance expectation. And that's not just from us, that's from the public too."

Robiskie also sees the high expectations as starting something of a dangerous cycle for Westbrook: He won't earn the love until he fulfills his promise, but he can't seem to fulfill his promise while he doubts the love.

"There are a lot of guys sitting around waiting for Mike to carry us, and it didn't happen," Robiskie said. "It didn't happen his first year. It didn't happen his second year. He hurt his knee and had the injury problems and it just didn't happen. And he's had opportunities – a few opportunities, not many – in his career to make plays, to do some things that would win some games and he hasn't done it.

"I think he felt he let the guys down when that happened," Robiskie continued, "and I think he started sensing that his teammates didn't believe in him. I don't know if he stopped believing in himself, but I do believe one thing leads to another. I believe that after he wins the Cardinal game last year, he feels that love and he wants that. But every game isn't going to be that Cardinal game."

In that game, Westbrook made a falling-backward catch in the end zone to give the Redskins the win in overtime. That was the epitome of what the Redskins expect from Westbrook and what they know he is capable of achieving. But it has been far from the norm. In his three seasons, Westbrook has caught all of five touchdown passes.

Robiskie was thrilled when Westbrook performed the way he did that day at Jack Kent Cooke Stadium – thrilled the way a father is thrilled when his child, a child whose report cards regularly read "bright, but needs to apply himself," finally comes home with the "A" he's been capable of producing all along.

For all the things that game made Robiskie feel, though, it didn't make him a believer. He knew then – and knows now – that with Westbrook, it's about focus, about doing it over time, about being able to maintain that kind of commitment for more than one play, or one quarter, or even one game. Ask Robiskie what he thinks of Westbrook's chances to have a big year and he'll tell you the same thing that everyone else in the organization has been saying: He looks good, he appears to be committed, he's showing a maturity he hasn't shown in the past.

Ask Robiskie to close his eyes and envision this coming season, though, and he will paint you a picture that is perfect Michael Westbrook: Brilliant one day, and staggeringly disappointing the next.

"In our first game against the Giants, he could run that 20-yard route, and make the catch, and run for a touchdown, and make the kind of plays that will win the game for us," Robiskie said. "I can see that. I really can."

But he wasn't finished.

"And then the next game," he continued, "there we'll be, against the San Francisco 49ers, it's a big game, it's 'Monday Night Football,' and we're on national television and I can see Michael getting all excited, and getting hyper and losing his focus. And I'll send him out there, and he'll screw up and he'll end up going 12 yards, again.

"That's Michael," Robiskie said, the frustration was clear in his face. "He's got that in him. That much I know."