Golden Boy

"I worked out an independent study project for my final semester that allowed me to study the Michigan offense," he says. "I went [17 miles] to Ann Arbor on assignment every week and studied film. I figured this was better than taking some cupcake home ec course or something. This was something for my future."

The commitment to Michigan football hurt his position in the baseball draft. Otherwise there is little doubt he would have been selected in the first round, quite possibly first overall. What if he never tried to play major league baseball? What if he played minor league ball but pulled an Elway, heading off to the NFL in the end? The pick would be squandered. A number of teams tried to persuade him, with promises of millions, to dump football. He held firm.

"I don't want money to determine his life," Dan Henson says. "I don't want him to be 35 and say, 'You know, I should have seen how well I could play football.' I want him to have options."

This does not mean that money is not important. Dan has decided to give up coaching and join IMG, the high-powered sports management group. He put out word before the draft that Drew would like first-round money to play minor league ball in the summer, with a large bonus to be delivered if he ever, indeed, gave up football. That further restricted his availability, limiting the list of teams that might draft him to big-market, big-money clubs. The Yankees, biggest market, most money, took the plunge, selecting him in the third round, 97th overall.

The negotiations started and stalled, the numbers being worked and reworked, until the contract finally was signed. That afternoon, in the second game of a doubleheader, Henson made his pro debut for the Yankees' Tampa affiliate in the Gulf Coast Rookie League. He went 1 for 3.

The kid will play only 10 or 11 baseball games this year, splitting the next few weeks between Tampa and Ann Arbor, where he will practice three days a week with Michigan football players during "informal" workouts. On Aug. 10 he will report with other freshmen for the beginning of "formal" workouts. The Notre Dame game is on Sept 5. On Sept. 9, he will begin his first semester of college. Eighteen years old.

"We were working the other day, painting a bedroom in this new condo we've bought," Dan Henson says. "It was hot and Drew hates painting. He looked up and said to me, 'This is the last room I'm ever going to paint in my life. From now on, I'm hiring people to paint.' And you know what? He'll be able to do that."

Baseball in the summer. Football in the fall. Maybe brain surgery in the free time left on the side. Or modern art. Or classical music. The Web pages grow by the moment. Anything seems possible. Anything at all. "Tell what happened with the Yankees at the workout," Dan says to Drew. "When you were talking to some of the players in the clubhouse."

"I was talking with Derek Jeter and a few guys," the phenom of the cyberfuture says. "I was telling them I was going to Michigan to play quarterback. They said, 'Michigan? Quarterback? That's the big time!' I mean, the Yankees. They said that. It was kind of funny."

The bright light cuts across the electronic sky. The millennium approaches. Even the stars are impressed.