Maroney's perseverance has paid off
GLENDALE, Ariz. - The veterans tell him he must not take winning for granted. Patriots running back Laurence Maroney sees no danger of that happening.
"I've lost too much to ever forget what it feels like," he said.
He will play against the New York Giants tonight in his first Super Bowl at the age of 22, his second year in the league, for a franchise that has gone 30-4 in the regular season since he first slipped on his No. 39 jersey.
The dazzling success of the Patriots is tied directly to Tom Brady and his exceptional portfolio. He has been to three previous Super Bowls, with running back Antowain Smith serving as the complement against St. Louis and Carolina, and Corey Dillon capping off a tumultuous career with a championship ring in Super Bowl XXXIX.
They were, in a sense, interchangeable parts, but Maroney has a chance to stick, to become a constant in Brady's arsenal. He wants to be the one who provides the balance to a New England offense that has shattered numerous passing records.
"Hopefully, all you hear [about tonight's game] is how they need to stop Tom Brady and the passing game," said Maroney, flashing his expansive smile. "I like hearing that. It sounds good. I'm just going to slide in and be all right."
For many of his teammates, winning has been inherent through every level of football. Maroney has listened to them brag about their high school and college teams destroying smaller programs. He cannot join in on these discussions, because his experience at Normandy High School in St. Louis provided him with enough humble pie to feed the entire Patriots roster - as well as the practice squad.
In four years, Maroney's team posted a 16-24 record, including a .500 mark (5-5) in his senior season that was cause for major celebration. Normandy is a basketball school. It had no gloried history in football, no lineage of great players carving their path. Like most of the top talent in the district, Maroney had the opportunity to perform for one of the bigger, more successful schools, but he made a conscious decision to stay.
"I was trying to start a trend," he said. "I figured if I hung around, maybe other good players would follow. Maybe we could turn it around there.
"I made the best out of nothing."
There were days when suiting up for Normandy was a humiliating exercise. The team wore Christmas green and red uniforms with black trim, and the holiday jokes kept coming when teams pummeled them.
"We had the ugliest colors," Maroney said. "I always wanted to wear black uniforms."
Maroney was one of five freshmen to start in 1999. They were proud to have eked out a 3-6 mark with only one game left, against Riverview. But that was senior day, and the coach started all of his upperclassmen.
"I watched the whole game from the bench," Maroney said. "It was brutal. Let's just say there was a 0 in our column, and 90 in the other."
In spite of Normandy's futility, Maroney earned a college scholarship to Minnesota, where he became only one of three players in Big Ten history to rush for 1,000 yards in his first three seasons (Sedrick Irvin of Michigan State and Ron Dayne of Wisconsin were the others). Minnesota went 24-13 in his three years there, and that felt good, but when the Patriots drafted him with the 21st pick in 2006, Maroney figured he was about to experience what winning really felt like.
His rookie year was a blur. There was so much to learn, so much to absorb. He came out of that first season with 745 yards rushing, six touchdowns, and, he figured, he was poised to play a major role in the offense this season.
Instead, he scuffled with a groin injury and shared snaps with Sammy Morris. Maroney was inactive for three games, and when he returned, he found himself doing what everyone else was doing: watching Brady throw it an average of almost 36 times a game.
In the meantime, Maroney was dissected for his upright running style, his durability, his approach attacking the line. In the team's first 13 games, Maroney cracked 100 yards just once. When the Patriots found themselves in third-and-short situations, the ball often went to Kevin Faulk or Heath Evans.
"You start asking yourself, 'What am I doing wrong? Why aren't they letting me get the ball in the red zone?' " Maroney said. "Why don't they trust me?"
Randy Moss became a regular visitor to his locker, offering the same advice each time: Confidence is paramount to success. The team's top receiver told Maroney to be patient, because his number could be called at any time.
"Randy told me, 'I know you're not getting the results you want. But we won't be relying on the passing game to get to the Super Bowl. We're going to have to run the ball,' " Maroney said. "I wanted to believe him. Did I have my doubts? Yes.
"Just the other day, he grabbed me and said, 'I told you so.' "
In two playoff victories, against Jacksonville and San Diego, Maroney was a pivotal component, averaging 23.5 carries and 122 yards.
Brady's legacy is secure no matter what happens tonight, but the young running back, who turns 23 Tuesday, understands this is his opportunity to cement his reputation as a winner.
"You try not to ever forget where you came from," Maroney said. "When we blow out these teams, I know how it feels. I was on the other end of that stick."
He has not turned his back on Normandy. Before the season started, he visited the team and told them if they posted a winning record he would buy them new uniforms.
The Vikings not only went 7-4 (including an 18-6 win over Riverview), they also qualified for the playoffs, where they lost to Parkway Central. Maroney, on the Patriots' bye week, was in the stands to cheer them on.
The black uniforms Maroney always wanted are on order for the Normandy Vikings, compliments of the Patriots running back.
"I'm happy for those guys," he said. "I don't know that any of them will ever play professional football or anything, but they can say they did one thing I never did - they won at Normandy."
From 90-0 to 19-0. If Laurence Maroney can complete that journey, no one will ever have to remind him not to be spoiled by success.
Jackie MacMullan is a Globe columnist. She can be reached at macmullan@globe.com. 