HOPE ARRIVES
From humble beginnings to the NFL, new QB Watson and family defy the odds
The child is given cheap toys. Small plastic men, pennies and marbles to play with on worn carpet and chaotic streets. Even with his father missing and the projects raging outside, the boy always moves the little he’s been given into the same perfect formations.
Deshaun Watson’s a 7-year-old quarterback. He can already control his world. And sometimes the world belongs to him.
The child begins to rise. Watson can do amazing things with only a football in his hand. Sprint, spin and leap. Throw darts and bombs, all of which lead him closer and closer to safety.
Just as Watson reaches his first peak, his mother gathers the family together. Tears start streaming from Watson’s eyes. The woman who
raised, protected and inspired him is saying she could leave him behind.
“I thought cancer was just one option: You get it and you pass away,” Watson said.
Deann Watson and her son are safe now. The cancer is gone. The projects — 815 Harrison Square in Gainesville, Ga. — were traded for their own home.
The boy who always wanted to be quarterback won a national championship at Clemson, then became the first-round QB Texans fans have long begged for. When Nos. 4 and 12 were suddenly intertwined during Thursday’s NFL draft, a future that seemed impossible just days ago was created.
Deshaun Watson, Texans quarterback.
Watson at 21, instantly representing the hopes and dreams of a footballobsessed city that’s never won a Super Bowl.
“It was just surreal,” he said. “I couldn’t really think about anything. I just started crying and balling out. It was amazing.”
From the top floor of NRG Stadium, Watson looks out a window to see his new city stretched before him.
One thought keeps bringing tears to his eyes: The child of the 815 was never supposed to be here. Remembering his roots
Watson’s body has tattoos bearing the threedigit number he swears he’ll never forget. When he joined NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell on a national TV stage Thursday night in Philadelphia, the Texans’ first-round QB proudly opened his suit jacket to the football world, revealing the black-and-white address of the government housing projects he once called home: 815.
A decade after finally leaving all the trouble behind, this is what Watson remembers seeing through a child’s eyes: Fast movement, constant action, only understanding what a boy could barely comprehend.
“Just kind of like a recycling bin,” Watson said. “No one really making it out.”
Watson’s mother, Deann, always tried to provide for her four children. But Watson’s father was never around — the QB only remembers seeing him a few times, “Maybe five, at the most” — and there was a long time when the thought of simply getting out of the 815 was unthinkable.
“My mom was basically my mother and father, so I didn’t really pay too much attention to it,” Watson said. “My friends had fathers. But for me it was just kind of, ‘Hey, my mother is the one that I’m going to rely on and I’ll always focus on.’ ”
The growing bond between mother and son became a pathway out of the 815.
Watson saw a Habitat for Humanity note describing a way for in-need families to own their own home. Deann soon began volunteering for the nonprofit organization, and in 2006 the Watsons left the projects behind.
In a hint of the football magic that would soon dominate Watson’s life, an 11-year-old boy was given his own bedroom by thenNFL running back Warrick Dunn.
“That day when Warrick Dunn came, I’ll never forget it,” said Watson’s aunt, Sonia, who jokingly referred to herself as the “mouthpiece” of the family. “He was there at the house that day. When he presented them the keys, that family, they were so excited.” He ‘has a gift’
The toys Watson once moved around in perfect formations were becoming real life.
Give him a football, place him between the lines of a field and he could do anything.
“Deshaun was a special kid,” Sonia said. “I told Deann, ‘Deshaun has a gift.’ … I believe in my heart he’s the chosen one. God gave it to him. Everybody doesn’t get it.”
The Watsons had been in their Habitat house four years and Watson was becoming a known name, when his mother became sick. The illness lasted, so Deann and Sonia visited a doctor. Tests were taken; guesses were made. Then the final results came back.
Watson’s mother was diagnosed with stage-five tongue cancer.
“Deann had to tell the children. And so it hurt my heart,” Sonia said. “When she told Deshaun, that was — it was really tough. It’s tough to see a grown man cry.”
Watson moved in with Sonia while his mother underwent months of chemotherapy and radiation treatments. Her tongue was removed during the process.
“The reason that she fought is she knew God wouldn’t let her leave her children,” Sonia said. “She loves her children. That’s where her strength came from.”
As Deann fought, Watson worked. He was a 15-year-old kid just beginning to put up numbers that would eventually carry him to Clemson, S.C. He was also devoting his teenage life to four jobs, supporting the family his mother had always protected, and eventually earning the respect of the Texans general manager who would draft him just seven years later.
“One of the things that impressed me … as much as anything is when (Watson’s) mom had to battle cancer, and she actually had to go and do treatment in Atlanta,” GM Rick Smith said.
“He had to step up as a young guy and help manage the household, and he did that.
“Whether it’s down by a certain amount of points with not a lot of time in the fourth quarter, or whether it’s a situation with his family, this guy finds a way to speak to the situation and do what’s necessary to accomplish the goal.” ‘We made it’
The 815 is now just arm ink and jacket lining.
Watson beat Alabama. Torched Nick Saban’s defense twice. Brought Clemson its first national championship in 35 years in the final Hollywood-like seconds.
He cries a little when the Texans call his phone on draft night. Then someone hands him a handwritten letter.
It’s written by his mother, so Watson starts reading it.
“Deshaun, when you came into this world you brought a love to my heart. … I watched you play your first flag football game, all the way to the last college game. To be here at the NFL draft and see you walk across the stage is a dream come true. I’m so proud of you. I’m so proud of the person and the man you became.”
Wearing a new Texans hat, Watson holds the letter in both hands and reads the words while being filmed live.
“As I look back, we was not supposed to be here.”
He stops and bends over, his hand covering his eyes.
Watson tries to start reading again. He can only pause and begin crying again, still holding Deann’s letter.
Dunn was the 12th overall pick of the 1997 draft. Watson was the 12th pick 20 years later.
The child of the 815 now has a new home on Kirby Drive. Deann’s birthday is Saturday. If Watson’s new story reads like his life’s script, he will become the greatest QB in Texans history and one of the biggest names in this city’s football history.
As Watson finishes the letter, his young face — maybe one day the face of the Texans — looks up into the camera.
“Love you, Mama. We made it.”