SI Vault
Gerry Callahan
January 27, 1997
Don't try telling Patriots wideout Terry Glenn that there's no greater pressure than playing in the NFL's ultimate game
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January 27, 1997

A True Survival Test

Don't try telling Patriots wideout Terry Glenn that there's no greater pressure than playing in the NFL's ultimate game

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"I know it was very emotional for him, playing the Giants in the Meadowlands," says Glenn. 'After the game, he called me up in front of the team and said, 'I'm proud of you. You showed me that you're a player.' He was crying, and 1 was crying a little, too."

A few days before the AFC Championship Game against the Jacksonville Jaguars, Parcells was asked at a press conference about the remarkable progress made by the rookie who had been forced upon him. Would he finally admit that Glenn was the perfect choice for his team? "She's doing good," said Parcells, and the room erupted in laughter.

This time there were no insinuations. The message was clear: The kid was all right.

After the Super Bowl, Glenn can sit by his pond about 25 miles outside Boston with his girlfriend, Kim, and their eight-month-old son, Terry Jr., and say goodbye to Columbus at last. But Glenn isn't ready to do that. Not yet. He says he would first like to go home and take care of the people who took care of him, people like Charles and Mary Henley, who opened their home to him when he had nowhere else to go. Glenn wants to visit another individual who had a profound effect on his life: Kenneth Adams, who remains imprisoned in Marion, Ohio. "I just want to ask him how he could kill another human being," says Glenn. "Some people told me that he's worried I'll use my money and my name to try to keep him in jail, and I want to tell him something: He's right."

Glenn recently heard something else from the folks back home. They said his father was living in Columbus and hoping to reconcile with the son he abandoned 20 years ago. Glenn isn't interested. "I've never seen him and I don't want to see him," he says, his eyes welling with anger. "As far as I'm concerned, he's just like the man who killed my mother. If he would have been there for us, it never would have happened."

Glenn breathes deeply and leans back on his tan leather couch, wiping his eyes with the back of his wrist. The sadness is never far from the surface. On a table behind him sits a large framed photograph of Terry Jr., bearing a smile as wide as the pond. A dried-out Christmas tree stands in the corner. Terry says he bought his son everything for his first Christmas. "I mean everything," says Glenn.

Terry Jr. looks like he's going to be a big kid. Would his dad want him to be a football player? "People ask me that sometimes, and I tell them I really don't care," Glenn says. "I want him to be a normal, happy kid. I just don't want him to go through the things I had to go through."

The kid may never be as tough as his father, but that's O.K. Few people are. ?

[This article contains a table. Please see hardcopy of magazine or PDF.]

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