UMass's Baylark is a brush with greatness

AMHERST -- The canvas is perched in front of him; only he can see it. A film of charcoal covers it; you have to imagine that as well. In the deserted University of Massachusetts football locker room, he's wielding an invisible eraser, sweeping away the veneer in precise arcs and circles and lines.

"In art, I go into a world of my own," says Steve Baylark, UMass senior art major. "You've got to let go the rest of the world. You have to get your mind and hand to relax."

The gridiron is his canvas, too. There may be 10,000 people screeching in the stands, but there are things only he can see. Running lanes aren't yet open, blocking hasn't fully materialized; only he knows where they'll be and when they're coming.

"When I play football, I go into a zone," says Steve Baylark, UMass senior running back extraordinaire. "It's just football, nothing but football. I can express myself on certain runs. On some runs, I can make a statement."

An exclamation, actually. Baylark will extend his prodigious career tonight in Missoula, where UMass (12-1) will face host Montana (12-1) in the semifinals of the NCAA Division 1 Championship Subdivision, also known as the Division 1-AA playoffs. He'll be seeking to boost his season total of 1,658 rushing yards and career count of 5,030, to continue his prolific playoff performance (350 yards in victories over Lafayette and New Hampshire), to reinforce his stature as one of only four men in 1-AA history to record four 1,000-yard seasons, to burnish his credentials as a candidate for the Walter Payton Award as the best player in Division 1-AA.

Art will help.

The contemplative and the concussive make an odd mix, but they are Baylark's palette.

"Football translates to art," he says. "In football, you have to be patient, to give things time to develop. In art, you have to give things time, too. You can see a trash can and it's just a trash can. You have to give it time to paint it as something beautiful."

But there's more to this mesh of endeavors.

"I think the art really helps him be creative on the field," says coach Don Brown.

His work against UNH was a masterpiece. The 6-foot, 225-pound Baylark drilled the Wildcats for 198 yards, including a 60-yard beauty on the Minutemen's first possession, as good an illustration as could be of the dichotomy that makes up an aspiring graphic designer and pro running back.

The compositions he does in charcoal, pencil, and oils are mostly delicate works. But he's a punishing runner who intends to increase his speed, maintain his trimmed physique, and give the NFL a stab before he pursues a career as a designer of video sports games.

"All 32 teams have come through asking about him," says Brown. "He's definitely on the NFL radar screen. He's become a legitimate pro prospect. I think this year has really helped. He got his speed down this spring. He came in lighter, stronger. He committed himself to being the best back he can be, and we're reaping the fruits of that."

The pros are a primary goal, but a recent one, too.

"It wasn't a childhood dream of mine," says Baylark.

Art was. In school, the other kids were drawing stick figures. Baylark was sketching cars, or at least approximations of them. He had talent.

"My teachers were surprised," he says.

They wouldn't have been if they'd known his background. While growing up, he and his family would take vacations from their home in the Orlando suburb of Apopka, Fla., to his maternal grandmother's place in Aberdeen, Miss.

Minnie Baylark was an artist, and when he stepped into her house, little Stevie would be drawn inexorably to her studio.

"Just being around her was such an influence," says Baylark, 23. "I'd look at her paintings. And when there was nothing to do, she'd look outside the window and paint what she saw. She'd catch amazing things. And sometimes she'd do paintings just from her imagination."

The end zone stretched before him like a horizon in a landscape painting, a captivating vista that beckoned seductively. His art training told 14-year-old Steve Baylark that much. The rest was up to his football instincts, if he'd had any.

"I didn't even know what a three-point stance was," he says. "I'd never played organized football before. Just sandlot ball with my friends. My friends pushed me to play. I was fast and I had size. They all played organized ball, and when you're that age, you want to be with your friends."

So there he was, kickoff in hand, his first high school game in progress, and he wasn't quite sure what to do.

So he ran. Right into an epiphany.

"Ninety-something yards," says Baylark. "Right up the middle. Untouched. It was the biggest football thrill of my entire freshman year. I haven't forgotten it to this day. I fell more and more in love with football after that."

It became even more attractive when Baylark discovered something else. He wanted to be the first in his family to get a college degree, but money was tight. Then he found out there were these things called football scholarships.

"I realized football could be a way to get an education," says Baylark.

Not easily, though. After leading Apopka to a Florida state championship, he found his test scores were too low for admission to Georgia Southern, which asked him to get his grades up and reapply in the spring.

"But I wanted to go to college right away," he says.

UMass obliged. He spent a year as a Prop 48 student, bolstered his academics sufficiently to get a scholarship, and took off on the field.

Art helped him relax. Relaxation helped him play football. Football helped pay for his art.

It's a delicious symmetry, Steve Baylark acknowledges, wearing a Mona Lisa smile as he says, "I'm able to pursue my two passions, two things I love to do. I have the best of both worlds."

Bob Duffy can be reached at Duffy@globe.com.