Grizzly Adams Speaks - Ricky on 60 minutes (LONG)

[capitalcity]

CBS- Life after the NFL: Happiness

(CBS) Former Miami Dolphins superstar Ricky Williams won the Heisman Trophy as the best college football player in the country at the University of Texas.

Then, he had five years of glory in NFL. He carried the ball more often over the last two seasons than any other player in the league. And he made millions doing it for the Miami Dolphins, as the team's star player.

But then, just before Dolphins training camp began this past July, he turned his back on all of it: the stardom, the fame and the salary of $5 million a year. His sudden decision to quit stunned his teammates, infuriated his fans and ruined his Dolphins' entire season. He never really explained why he quit, and he has stayed out of public view for the past six months – until now, in his first television interview with Correspondent Mike Wallace.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Williams is now studying holistic medicine in the California hills outside Sacramento, where he surprisingly agreed to answer any questions 60 Minutes asked about how, at the peak of his earning power, he could just walk away.

"Well, my whole thing in life is I just want freedom. And I thought that money would give me that freedom. I was wrong, of course," says Williams.

"Because, especially when you’re 21 and you’re given as much money as I was given, it bound me more than it freed me. Because now, I have more things to worry about. I have more people asking for money. I had to buy a house and nice cars and different things that people with money are supposed to do. It just seemed to create more problems."

His first check, at 21, was for $3.6 million – before taxes. "After, it was like $2, 2.4," says Williams.

He would have made $5 million this year, but he said, "it's blood money, as far as I'm concerned. The money is what made me miserable. I want to be free from that stress."

But Williams tells Wallace that the real reason he left was to avoid the public humiliation that would undoubtedly follow news that he had just failed a drug test for the third time.

"The thing that I had the most trouble with was that after you fail your third test, then it becomes public knowledge that you failed the test. And that's the one thing that I couldn't deal with at the time. People knowing that I smoke marijuana," says Williams. "That was my biggest fear in my whole entire life. I was scared to death of that."

So rather than face the music and the media about his failed drug test, he quit football and ran away to Australia, where he lived in a tent community that cost him just $7 a day.

"In my tent, I had about 30 books. And every morning, I'd wake up at about 5 a.m. And I'd take my flashlight and I'd read for a couple of hours," says Williams. "Everything from nutrition to Buddhism, to Jesus, to try to figure out, you know, what am I? What am I? So, I just kept reading and reading. And couldn’t figure out what I was. But I learned a lot."

There, he learned about an ancient healing science from India called Ayurveda. "It's using nature to heal yourself, to put yourself in balance," says Williams. "I'm more in balance now than I was a couple of months ago. But it's a journey that people spend their whole lives on."

What's balance?

"To talk about balance, it’s easier to talk about what’s out of balance. And I think anytime that you have any disease, and disease meaning lack of ease, lack of flow," says Williams. "So anytime there's disease, you're out of balance. Whether it’s jealousy anger, greed, anxiety, fear."

These are emotions, he says, that most people have experienced in their lives.

Just this fall, he enrolled in an 18-month course at The California College of Ayurveda. Freed from the structured life of the NFL, Williams is now immersed in the search for his soul.

"Playing in the National Football League, you’re told you know where to be, when to be there, what to wear, how to be there," says Williams. "And being able to step away from that, I have an opportunity to look deeper into myself and look for what’s real."

Dr. Mark Halpern, who runs the small college, says Williams is learning to become a holistic healer. "I see burnout in probably 60-70 percent of society at any given time," says Halpern. "He will help individuals to live in greater harmony with their environment through all five of their senses. We say that when we’re living in harmony with our environment, our bodies naturally express themselves in the form of health."

Receiving massages that balance the various energies of the body is part of Williams' training to become an ayurvedic masseur.

"He’s following the whisperings of his soul, as opposed to the shouting of his own ego. It’s our ego that desires the fame and the fortunes," says Halpern. "The whispers of the soul that lead us toward the pursuit of harmony, the pursuit of health and well being, including sometimes facing the consequences of letting go of the fame and the fortune."

The fact is, Williams has gone from fortune into deep debt, and from fame to infamy. The Dolphins claim he owes them more than $8 million -- much more money than he has – for leaving in the middle of his contract.

And his sudden departure just days before training camp doomed the Dolphins to their worst season in franchise history, and infuriated his former fans, especially his teammates. And if they want me to apologize just to apologize, then I will apologize. But it doesn’t mean anything unless I understand what I’m apologizing for."

"You're apologizing for letting them down," says Wallace. "The Dolphins thought with you, and mainly with you that they had a chance at the Super Bowl."

"What if I disagree? Do I still have to apologize, that I cost them their season," says Williams. "I played my butt off. I played as hard as I could whenever I put that uniform on. But I’m not doing that anymore, you know? I moved on. So when is it OK for me to stop playing football? When would it have been OK for me to stop playing football? When my knees went out? When my shoulders went out? When I had too many concussions? Like what? When is it OK?"

"I'm just curious, because I don't understand. When is it OK to not play football anymore," adds Williams. "I didn't know ahead of time. Or I would have given them a clue. Happened in the course of two days. Boom, boom, boom, boom."

Has he retired or quit? "I've retired from that lifestyle," says Williams.

Now, he's renting a one-bedroom house, in Grass Valley, Calif., with no TV, no long-distance phone, and no regrets.

"Do you like yourself," asks Wallace.

"I love myself. Because I'm all that I have. And if I don't love myself, then no one else will," says Williams. "If I found myself starting to dislike something, I tell myself this is who I am. So what’s the point of disliking it?"

But he can't pay the $8 million that he's supposed to pay.

"Let's look at the alternative. If I looked at it, and every day, I woke up and I said, 'God, I've got all this money to pay back. I've got all these problems,'" says Williams. "I wouldn't be sitting here with you with a smile on my face right now, you know? Because I'm happy."

Is he bothered by the people who are angry with him because of leaving the game?

"No, because I did [desert and betray them]," says Williams. "To them, I did, yes."

Does he care about what people think? "No, I don't. No," he says.

“Ricky’s always been one of the most selfish, unpredictable, purposely bizarre, and more than slightly off-kilter athletes," says Sporting News columnist Paul Atner. "He doesn’t care his behavior might effect anyone around him. It has always been about Ricky.”

"Half of it is accurate," admits Williams. "But how could I expect him, if I don't even know who he is, to know anything, really, about me?"

So what is accurate about Atner's description? "He got the name right," says Williams, laughing. "Well, I am unpredictable, but who's supposed to be predictable?"

Here's more of what Atner said: "You know the type that fancy themselves as shining lights in a dull world. They try too hard to be unique. Instead of looking brave, they look foolish."

"I look very foolish. That's definitely accurate. To a lot of people, I look very foolish in what I'm doing. And I understand that," says Williams, who isn't bothered at all by it. "Because the only thing that matters is how I feel. And if I let what they feel affect me, then it changes how I feel."

Another columnist Wallace mentioned wrote: "To some, Williams is a selfish quitter. To others, he’s a hero who took his job and shoved it, leaving a brutal game before it brutalized him. To close friends, Williams is a deep-thinking free spirit, who despised the stereotypes that came with football, fame and fortune."

"That's a little more accurate," says Williams.

He's the father of three children, from all different mothers. He's never been married, but he supports his children financially. "I'm a very generous person," he says. "At least I try to be."

His hero is Bob Marley, the legendary Reggae star from Jamaica who inspired Williams to wear dreadlocks for years. But in Australia, while out taking pictures, Williams cut them off.

"I took a hike, I set up my tripod, I started taking some self portraits, and the dreadlocks got in the way," says Williams. "So I ran up the top of the hill, got scissors in my van, cut my hair right then and there."

Beyond the dreadlocks, Williams named one of his daughters Marley, and he and his hero have something else in common: hash.

"He smoked a lot of it. I have done the same," says Williams.

Could he pass an NFL drug test today? "No," says Williams.

"So you still smoke marijuana. Anything worse than that," asks Wallace.

"Worse? What do you mean by worse," says Williams. "Something I have sweets, sugar. Sometimes I have a glass of wine. But that's about it."

And steroids? "No, thank God, never needed to have," says Williams. "I was gifted. I've been very blessed that I never needed anything to help me play football."

Will Williams ever play football again? "I really have no idea," says Williams. "I can't even tell you what's gonna happen tomorrow."

Wallace decided to make him a bet. He'll play football.

"What's the wager," asks Williams.

"You don't care about money," says Wallace, laughing. "I think that you will want to have the freedom that you have now. But you're going to need more money to have the freedom that you now have. … You've said that you might like to play for the Oakland Raiders. And that Raiders fan like weirdos like you."

"I did say that. I'd have a much easier time fitting in Oakland," says Williams, who admits that from time to time, he still misses the game.

He's only 27. What does he want to be when he's 50?

"Alive," says Williams, laughing. "I love what I'm doing here. Just because I'm doing whatever I want to do. You know, like I said, I valued freedom for a long time. And I finally feel like I've got more of it."

So for Williams, money couldn't buy happiness. But now, he says he's never been happier.

"People talk about the money that I've given up and the money that I've lost," says Williams. "Like the knowledge and the wisdom that I've gotten from this experience is priceless. So, the way I look at it, I'm still way, way, way up. Way, way, up."
The Ricky fiasco is big news in Austin. I will wake up tomorrow to headlines denouncing #34 as the selfish pothead. And without fail local newscasters will paint the story like a travesty, a disaster, a black-eye for the university and the town.

It makes you realize that none of them ever really gave a shit about Ricky the person - just Ricky the Longhorn runningback. Ricky has understood this fact for a long time now, and finally worked up the courage to make decisions for himself.