BEYOND THE FIELD

Player and coaches profiles by Mary Kay Cabot

Gus Chan/The Plain DealerRomeo Crennel jokes with reporters after the final day of minicamp on Thursday.

• The Romeo Rules: Be fair, do it right the first time, and other words to live by.

The son of a strict career Army sergeant, Crennel's military roots are so ingrained that when the going gets tough in Berea, he steps outside of his office and marches down the hall in lockstep, calling cadence in his head, "left, right, left . . ."

"When I'm feeling sorry for myself, that always gets me back to where I need to be," said the Browns head coach.

But Crennel also is in touch with his softer side -- and he has to be. His wife, Rosemary, and three daughters would all burst into tears if he yelled at them.

"Romeo almost had to have two different personalities," Rosemary said. "He learned he had to change his tone when he came home from work. Our youngest daughter cried so easily that we had to say, 'If it's not dead or bleeding, please try not to cry.' "

David I. Andersen/The Plain DealerEarl Little, center, is consoled by Corey Fuller, left, and Mike Sellers after he was told his cousin had died.

This profile was originally published in The Plain Dealer on July 30, 2001.

Oh, if Barnes could see him now.

Not only was Little playing in the NFL -- just like they had always dreamed of doing together - but now he was being coached by Butch Davis and Chuck Pagano, their head coach and secondary coach at the University of Miami.

The only thing missing, of course, was Barnes.

But deep down inside, Little knew Barnes was right there with him. In fact, Barnes was probably orchestrating this whole thing from above. Yes, he probably brought Davis all the way up from Miami just to bring a little joy into Little's life, make some of the pain go away.

David I. Andersen/The Plain DealerCleveland Browns kicker Phil Dawson plays with his youngest son, Beau, 3, on the turf after football training camp practice in 2006.

This profile was originally published in The Plain Dealer on Nov. 23, 2007.

In addition to the game-winning kick in overtime, Dawson had made the kick of a lifetime -- the wacky, bouncing 51-yarder that sent the game into OT -- and now here he was clutching two of the people who mean the world to him.

Frozen in time while they embraced, only the three of them knew all of the pain their family had endured over the past year and a half and how good it felt to be overjoyed.

"We might've gotten a little more excited about it than we should've, but there was so much more going on there than just the kick," said Shannon.

Chuck Crow/The Plain DealerCleveland Browns head coach Romeo Crennel in the team's training complex in Berea.

This profile was originally published in The Plain Dealer on Feb. 13, 2005.

Ever since Crennel was little, he wanted to be just like his dad, an imposing Army sergeant who ran the household like a platoon. Whenever Joseph Crennel came back from overseas, his five children would practically stand at attention and salute the man they lovingly called Sarge.

He'd bark out the orders and they'd dutifully obey, shining the tub until they could see their reflection in it. If the bathroom didn't meet his inspection, he'd wake them in the middle of the night to do it over.

When Joseph was away, Romeo, the eldest of the five, was the man of the house, although this didn't always sit well with Carl, one year younger. Carl often wrestled Romeo for authority. More often than not, Romeo won.

Crennel's mom, Mary, was kind, gentle and patient. She didn't like a lot of noise or fighting. She was the rock that provided stability through moves every three years from Fort Sill in Oklahoma to Fort Hood in Texas to Fort Knox in Kentucky. Over the years of his father's absence, Crennel grew close to his mom.

Mike Levy/The Plain DealerTrent Dilfer, newly installed as the Cleveland Browns' starting quarterback, on a rainy day at the team's training facility in Berea.

This profile was originally published in The Plain Dealer on July 31, 2005.

If you just looked at Trevin's blond little head and not at the tangle of tubes sewn into his open chest, it looked like he was sleeping peacefully. There, on the wall near his bed, was a picture of Trevin hugging Mickey Mouse and smiling. He looked so happy and healthy, so full of life.

But the only thing keeping him alive now was the massive machine humming and whirring on the back wall. In fact, Dilfer and his wife, Cass, were faced with a heart-wrenching decision. Did they let his time run out on the machine or should they turn it off and say goodbye in a special way?

Dilfer couldn't bear the thought of either. Trevin, 5, was his only son and his ally in a house full of girls. He loved hanging around the locker room with his dad and was in Dilfer's arms when he won a Super Bowl with the Baltimore Ravens following the 2000 season. At Seattle Seahawks practices, Trevin would often challenge the receivers to a race. Like his dad, he was always convinced he could win.

David I. Andersen/The Plain DealerJamir Miller celebrates after sacking Cincinnati QB Akili Smith in a Cleveland Browns game in 2000.

This profile was originally published in The Plain Dealer on Oct. 8, 2000.

It's the place where he would either become the man that his mother, Rhonda Hardy, fought so hard to make him, or the man that she gravely feared he might become.

The man not so unlike his father.

Steve Helber/Associated PressVirginia Tech flanker Andre Davis heads for a touchdown in a 2001 game against Virginia.

This profile was originally published in The Plain Dealer on Nov. 10, 2002.

He had never played the game as a kid and had watched it only occasionally on television.

Now, seven years later, he's on pace to set the Browns' rookie record for touchdowns in a season and is a candidate to be named offensive rookie of the year. "For a rookie to come in and do what he's done is spectacular," said Browns coach Butch Davis. "He's more than what we thought we were getting. And he may be one of the best all-time people that I've been around. He's a loyal, faithful [fiancee], an unbelievable student, a smart kid with a great work ethic and he's not caught up in himself."

Dale Omori/The Plain DealerEric Turner, center, and a gang of other Cleveland Browns bring down Cincinnati Bengals running back Derrick Fenner in a 1993 game.

This profile was originally published in The Plain Dealer on Oct. 10, 1994.

If you didn't know any better, you might think he just walked off the set of "LA Law." Or was returning home from a cover shoot for GQ.

But then you remember. This is Cleveland. And that's Eric Turner, the star safety for the Browns.

"He's got that Hollywood mentality," says Browns defensive end Rob Burnett. "But that's just an act. Eric is the kind of guy kids can look up to.

"If you look beyond the shades and the gold chains and all that stuff, Eric is a very religious guy who takes his job and his life very seriously."

John Kuntz/The Plain DealerDennis Northcutt cross the 50 with a punt return for the Cleveland Browns in a game against the Tampa Bay Buccaneers in 2002.

This profile was originally published in The Plain Dealer on Dec. 1, 2002.

"Even diamonds are cut," he said.

Northcutt, arguably the most exciting player in the Browns new era, has gone from dead man walking to top receiver strutting this season.

Despite being the No. 4 receiver, he leads the team with eight touchdowns heading into today's game against Carolina -- five receiving, one rushing and two on punt returns -- and has become the receiver opponents fear most.

"The possibilities are endless," offensive coordinator Bruce Arians said.

David I. Andersen/The Plain DealerMichael Lehan breaks up a pass in the end zone during his rookie year training camp.

This profile was originally published in The Plain Dealer on May 8, 2003.

Lehan, 23, was born in Texarkana, Texas, and adopted at 3 months old by a Minnesota couple. A year later, they adopted another son, Matthew. But when the boys were 3 and 4 years old, the Lehans divorced and Mary was left to raise the toddlers on her own.

Ever since Lehan was old enough to understand, he knew he was adopted and wondered about his birth family.

Did he have other brothers and sisters? Did he look like his mom? Was his dad good in sports? And above all, why did they give him up?

Chuck Crow/The Plain DeaelrCharlie Frye scrambles for a Cleveland Browns touchdown in a game against the New Orleans Saints.

This profile was originally published in The Plain Dealer on Sept. 3, 2006.

"Charlie knew exactly what he was talking about," said King, now head coach at Berkshire High School in Burton. "I've never met anyone who had such a thirst for the game at such an early age."

Like many young boys, Frye dreamed of being a professional football player. But Frye was no ordinary boy.

David I. Andersen/The Plain DeaelrCleveland Browns Butch Davis watches the team practice during his first mini camp in April 2001.

This profile was originally published in The Plain Dealer on July 22, 2001.

He already had lost two of his Hurricanes that spring of 1996, one in a plane crash and the other in a brutal murder. Please, God, don't let it be more bad news.

The voice on the phone, his top assistant, Pete Garcia, delivered the latest blow: One of his starting receivers beat up a member of the men's track team while two of his other players stood by and watched.

With his wife and young son in tow, Davis flew back to Miami and sprang into action. The starting receiver? Gone for the season. The two other players? Banished indefinitely. By the time the week was over, Davis had suspended a total of five players for crimes ranging from assaulting women to armed robbery.

And all of this came just months after Miami had been hit with severe NCAA sanctions for the lawlessness that occurred under Davis' predecessor, Dennis Erickson.

A lesser man might have cracked. Or bolted.

This profile was originally published in The Plain Dealer on Sept. 1, 2002.

No, his goals then were more basic, such as getting enough food to eat, a special treat on his birthday, and a new pair of sneakers.

His parents, Luciano and Estelida, wanted something more for their two young sons, Pete and Luciano Jr., who goes by Lucky. They wanted them to have freedom, opportunity, and above all, an education.

It was something they couldn't get in rural Cuba, where high schools were nonexistent.

The couple went through red tape and emotional turmoil to leave Fidel Castro's Communist regime. In 1967, after two years of waiting and hoping, they were selected to fly to the U.S. under the Freedom Flights program.

Pete was 5 and Lucky 6 when they boarded the plane to come to a new world.

Chuck Crow/The Plain DealerBraylon Edwards celebrates after a touchdown gave the Cleveland Browns a 14-0 lead against the Atlanta Falcons in 2006.

This profile was originally published in The Plain Dealer on Nov. 27, 2005.

He was flanked by his high-powered agent and his slick marketing man. Heck, he already had a regular gig on Fox's nationally televised "Best Damn Sports Show Period." One appearance and Fox wrapped him up on the spot.

When he sat for his draft day news conference, he was as smooth and polished as Denzel Washington on a promotional tour. Like Washington, he flashed a megawatt smile and had a face that could grace the cover of GQ.

He said all the right things, cracked a few jokes and oozed charisma and star power. In fact, he looked like he had been doing this all his life.

But was it any wonder? After all, Braylon Edwards had been groomed for this role since the day he was born.

David I. Andersen/The Plain DealerReuben Droughns rushes during a Cleveland Browns game against the Detroit Lions.

This profile was originally published in The Plain Dealer on Nov. 6, 2005.

He renewed that promise to himself last week when he was picked up for driving under the influence and later pleaded not guilty. A trial is set for Dec. 16. The incident reminded him of his last brush with the law and his determination to stay out of trouble.

It was his second year as the star running back for Merced Junior College in California when the police pulled him over during a visit back home to Anaheim, Calif. Much to Droughns' shock, there was a warrant for his arrest for failing to pay a $1,000 fine for some trouble he got in when he was 15.

The police handcuffed him and threw him in the slammer.

"I was in a roomful of prisoners and I dared not fall asleep," Droughns said. "I vowed I'd never be behind bars again.

Droughns, kid with the infectious smile, had overcome too much in his life to be locked up with hardened criminals. Football was his ticket out, and when he was free, he was going to run for his life.

Droughns was running long before he knew it.