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Mourning his best friend Jaguars' Daniels knew Stringer since middle schoolUpdated: Wednesday August 01, 2001 10:43 PM
MANKATO, Minn. -- Chances are you don't know LeShun Daniels. But he was Korey Stringer's best friend. The Minnesota Vikings lost their best offensive lineman Wednesday when Stringer died of complications from heatstroke. But Daniels lost so much more. "We were best friends, but we were more like brothers," Daniels said. "Pretty much inseparable." Stringer's death sent shock waves throughout the NFL on Wednesday. But it hit as hard as anywhere in Jacksonville, Fla., where Daniels, a reserve offensive guard, is trying to make the Jaguars roster after a season in NFL Europe. Daniels toiled all day with the heaviest of hearts, after receiving the kind of horrible call that should never come, let alone at 3 a.m. when you're all alone.
"I still had to practice today, I had to work. When I was running a play, I thought about that play. But every time I had a second to myself, I thought about Korey." Daniels and Stringer grew up together in Warren, Ohio. They met in the neighborhood at the age of 10 or 11, and went all through junior high and high school together. Then they attended Ohio State together, and played side-by-side on the same Buckeyes offensive line. Then, in 1997, Daniels, who went undrafted, was signed by the Vikings. At that year's training camp, they roomed together. Thrill of a lifetime might be a tad overstated, but it was close. Two longtime friends sharing summer camp together. What could be better? As the Vikings' beat writer for the Minneapolis paper at the time, I did a feature story about the two old friends fulfilling their long-held dream. Both players seemed as happy about that story as if it was the first one that ever included their names, collecting numerous copies. On Wednesday, Daniels was left with just the memories of Stringer and their many, many times spent together. "We played football together from Pop Warner on up," he said. "I used to be a running back and he used to be a lineman, blocking for me. But we were both big." Like everyone else, Daniels couldn't possibly have prepared for the events of Wednesday. Sure, it was hot in Minnesota on Monday and Tuesday. But Stringer often battled the heat early in the Vikings' camp, without tragic consequences. And it was early in his six-year-plus NFL career that Stringer's weight problem seemed out of control. At times in 1996 and 1997, he ballooned up to the 375-pound range. Dangerous territory for anyone. The Vikings back then even farmed him out to Duke University's famed weight loss clinic, a move that did not really take. But in recent years, Stringer had matured, married and started a family. He took his career more seriously and started eating better and shedding some weight. In the past three seasons or so he played at closer to the 340-pound range that the Vikings desired all along. This year, Stringer reported at 335 pounds, his NFL low. He was at the peak of his career and had evolved into an outstanding and dependable player who warranted the No. 1 pick the Vikings invested in him in 1995. "I remember he always had a little trouble on the first day of camp or so, but he always managed to get over it," Daniels said. "I was used to him coming in at 350 or 355 and having to play his way into shape. But he came in at the best weight he has ever been. I thought he was on top of it all." Stringer struggled with the heat Monday morning, then sat out part of the afternoon workout. Always sensitive to his weight and the perception that it made him soft, he was said to have reported to Tuesday morning's workout determined to endure any amount of heat and redeem himself. "That's how Korey was," Daniels said. "He was just determined. He didn't want anybody to think he was a slacker. He was the old guy on the line now. He had to be a leader. I know he was just trying to show he was committed." When someone dies young, especially a young athlete for some reason, it's human nature to instantly cast him or her as beloved. No such revisionist history was needed Wednesday. Stringer was an immensely popular figure in the Vikings' locker room, with his deft talent for mimicry and bizarre sense of humor often thrusting him center stage. Nobody did a better Dennis Green or Tice impersonation, and nobody was more likely to leave the locker room singing happily at full voice than Stringer. He was indeed gentle for being such a giant, and the more Daniels talked Wednesday, the more he couldn't believe such a life had been snuffed out. "He called me Monday night," Daniels said. "He sounded a little different, but like he was at ease with everything. It's just tough. One day you talk to him and the next he's gone. He didn't even say it was tough for him at Monday's practice. He didn't say anything about it. He probably didn't want me to worry. "I'll just remember him as a guy who was always laughing, making jokes. But we could sit down and have a serious talk a second later. I'll just remember him pretty much as my brother and a guy I'll truly miss. I can't believe he's gone." On Wednesday, in Minnesota and beyond, Daniels had all kinds of company. Don Banks covers pro football for CNNSI.com.
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