Sept. 3, 2010

Buddy Green has seen them all, in person and on tape, at full speed and in slow motion.

He can rewind to that Friday in Philadelphia, in August 2007, when the freshman defensive back delivered his very first hit against Temple. He can then fast forward, through three seasons and 200-plus tackles, to the junior's last interception - the one that clinched December's Texas Bowl win over Missouri.

Usually, Green is good with numbers. Is there another defensive coordinator in the country who has a better accounting of the 11 opponents on offense? Could anyone else devise a way to use two down linemen to frustrate a five-receiver attack from the Big XII?

One figure, however, escapes him.

Frankly, after the last three of his eight years overseeing Navy's defense, Green's lost count of how many highlights he's witnessed from Wyatt Middleton.

"I can't begin to name all the great plays he's made," Green says of the Midshipmen's senior co-captain, All-East safety in and, indisputably, one of the best defenders in Academy history.

Green's seen them all. And Middleton's seemingly done it all.

He's caused fumbles and recovered them, including the loose ball only a yard away from the end zone in Navy's 23-21 victory last fall at Notre Dame. Middleton's met backs head on, and side swept them out of nowhere, as he did to prevent a touchdown on an overtime screen two years ago vs. Temple.

His timed his leaps impeccably on blocked kicks, and made his breaks perfectly on interceptions. On the theft from Missouri, Middleton caught the throw in stride to start a 62-yard dash. The longest bowl-game return in school history, it was a final - and fitting - execution of Green's game plan to tame the Tigers.

"I try to always be around the ball," Middleton says, matter-of-factly. "It's a natural instinct. The more you're around the ball, the more plays you make."

It may seem like second nature for Navy's right guy at the wrong place for opponents, but that's only because of what Middleton first invests.

"That comes from tremendous preparation," Green says. "He's got a lot of football sense. Some guys don't understand what they're looking for. He's able to make plays because he's one step ahead."

There's something else, something special, in the words of someone else.

"Wyatt is a fearless football player," says Ken Niumatalolo, Navy's third-year head coach.

It's a description of the athlete that helps to explain the moments that define him as a young man.

For Al Middleton, Wyatt's father, there are two in particular. One involved a locker-room stand, when Wyatt stood his ground on principle and reduced a Marist High School bully in size. He emerged the team leader.

The other also involved Middleton's days at Marist. His War Eagles were facing the rival Tucker Tigers. Both were local powers northeast of Atlanta - Marist smaller and private; Tucker larger and public. Ostensibly, they generally didn't - and still don't - like each other much.

Time was winding down when the smallest of Eagles was driven out of bounds near the Tigers' bench - or, as Al describes, "behind enemy lines." After the whistle, most from Marist headed in the opposite direction, Wyatt included.

"Wyatt started walking to the other sideline, but then he turned around and went over to his teammate," Al remembers, picturing his son separating the Tucker players. "Wyatt extended his hand and lifted him up. (The Tigers) were not going to mess with him.

"I think about that to this day. I know they were defining moments to help me understand what kind of person he would be."

If that's so, by then, Al probably already had an inkling of who his son would become. He needed only to examine family history.

One of 14 children, Al was raised in New York City by parents who neither overlooked the value of education nor undersold the importance of hard work. Like himself, a basketball player while at Gannon University, most of Al's siblings earned advanced degrees. He used his to become an electrical engineer.

In 1984 his wife Karen gave birth to daughter Kellie. Two years later, their first son came along. They named him William, after both of his grandfathers. Their second son was born on April 5, 1988. For him, they chose Wyatt, which happens to be Karen's maiden name.

Naming their two sons as they did, Al and Karen were paying homage to the two most influential men in their lives.

"I strive everyday to measure up to what they achieved," said Al. "I had two men in my life who were the best examples in my life. I try to maintain this with my children.

"I tell my children, `If you end up being like the kind of men they were, you'll have nothing to worry about.'"

They were, Al says, the kind of men whose children "were priorities in their life." And they were men devoted to nothing less than an honest day and night's work.

Karen's father was honored for perfect attendance at work. For more than 34 years, he never missed a day, never even showed up late. Meanwhile, Al's father held multiple jobs and ran his own business.

Al thought of both on a recent Sunday, while sitting behind the wheel of his car. He was driving from Florida back home to the Atlanta area.

The night before, he'd watched William - a second-year defensive back for the Jacksonville Jaguars - play in the preseason at Tampa Bay. That morning, he was dispensing advice to his oldest son when Al again recalled the lessons of his youth.

Lessons he's always tried to convey to his own kids.

"I always wanted them to understand that you've got to be ready to pack up a lunch," Al spoke into his cell phone. "You can travel all over the world, have the nicest cars, but please never forget that your parents worked hard for that (opportunity)."

Quite clearly, they haven't yet. And likely won't.

"I saw both parents work very hard," Wyatt says. "Everything we had, they worked for it. My dad was always working two or three jobs. It was for us. I saw that whatever you want, you have to work hard for it. I always looked at them as my heroes."

"Wyatt's very humble and has such a tremendous work ethic," says Green. "He never cuts corners in trying to get better."

Of course, he doesn't. He's a Middleton. Growing up in his household, there was no shortage of role models.

"It all comes from us growing up, and how our parents raised us," he said. "(Kellie) worked her tail off all the time. My older brother saw that, and imitated what she did. I saw him, and imitated what he did."

And all they did was excel, in just about everything they did.

Kellie's softball skills led her to Notre Dame, where she became an All-Big East outfielder before graduating in three years. Accorded a medical red shirt, due to injury as a sophomore, she transferred to the University of Georgia with two seasons of athletic eligibility.

She took full advantage of them, shining as an All-American each spring and earning her master's in public health. Following a brief stint in the National Pro Fastpitch league, Kellie enrolled in medical school at the University of Pittsburgh.

William attended Furman University and developed into a three-year starter. In 2009, after graduating the previous spring with a degree in biology, he too was selected All-America, as the Paladins' most valuable player.

Drafted by Atlanta, William bounced from the Falcons to the Buccaneers and back to the Falcons' practice squad - all in less than two weeks. Then, he was signed by the Jaguars and, 12 appearances later, was named the AFC South Special Teams Player of the Year by ESPN.com.

Lest one forget the other sibling who got to imitate what Wyatt did. Sister Dana will soon begin her basketball career at Belmont Abbey College, just west of Charlotte, N.C.

"I can't tell you how my parents do it," Wyatt says. "I consider it a God-given gift. My parents have done a great job with me and my siblings. We're very blessed."

"I wish I could say I was a genius," says Al. "I simply taught my kids what I knew and experienced growing up. My parents always stressed education as the end game. You don't have to put limits on yourself or your ambitions and dreams in life."

They were a family that studied together, and played together - and stayed together.

When Kellie took batting practice, her brothers took the pitcher's mound or shagged balls in the outfield. If she put her glove on, they hit her pop flies.

At other times, in either the front or back yard, Al played quarterback for William and Wyatt. They would design plays in the grass. On one, William would run a pass route and Wyatt would try to cover him. On the next, they'd switch places.

"My dad didn't have too strong of an arm," Wyatt says with a laugh. "But he got the job done. We'd always get a few interceptions."

"You'd be surprised, now that my youngest is off to college, how much I think about those days," says Al. "It was fun. Obviously, my passes weren't the greatest."

Hundreds of miles away, he too laughs about his quarterbacking skills. But then his next words are spoken with a sound of satisfaction.

"The way we lived, it was wonderful," Al remembers. "They supported each other."

They still do.

"I definitely try to keep tabs on all my siblings," said Wyatt. "I watch my brother's games with my family. We talk on the phone all the time."

This fall, like last year, Al and Karen will divide their weekends following Wyatt and William. If unable to visit both, the Middletons are likely to attend Navy's game on Saturday, before gathering at a local hotel on Sunday to cheer for William.

There are a few managers out near BWI Airport who know to tune the television to the Jaguars game whenever the Middletons come in.

"I appreciate it," says Al, who recently received the family's order of jerseys for the new season.

Look for them wearing No. 8. Thanks to them, the colors are still Navy blue and gold. Things might have been different.

After his sophomore season, Middleton reached a crossroads. Like every other midshipman, he had a choice. Middleton could remain on Academy course to graduation and commissioning as an officer. Or he could transfer to a civilian school, without any military obligations down the road.

What made Middleton different from classmates was his early emergence as a legitimate NFL prospect. He set a school record for tackles by a freshman. His second-year performance included 13 stops in a season-changing win over Rutgers and interception in an upset of nationally-ranked Wake Forest.

At 6-foot-2, around 190 pounds, the former high school linebacker, converted to college safety, had more than just the physical goods to get looks from pro scouts. Middleton also had NFL aspirations. "It's always been a dream of mine," Middleton admits today. "Seeing it through my brother's eyes, I'd like to live it through my own eyes."

Yet, when many others would have left, he chose to stay.

"One main reason is my family," Middleton says. "They've served as great role models for me. There was never any doubt in my mind; I always wanted to be here. I love these coaches, they've taught me a lot about football and about life, and the people I'm playing with.

"This place is very special and unique. I never really wavered at all, in my mind. Whatever you do, you're going to be set for life."

"Wyatt has goals," said Green. "Also, he has the maturity to realize that he made a commitment to the country and to the Academy that he has to fulfill. He sees the big picture and the value of that degree. He's a great example of how it's done in, out of the classroom, taking accountability to the highest degree."

For Middleton's father, he "could only lead (his) children so far." The rest was up to Wyatt.

"This was his choice," Al said. "I did what I should do as a parent to make sure that it was what Wyatt wanted to do. I constantly asked him questions...he never wavered.

"It brings goose bumps to my arms. You've got to understand, things with Wyatt and the Naval Academy touch me on a different level. There's something special about being selected to attend the Naval Academy."

Fully investing himself, Middleton is studying systems engineering and considering postgraduate possibilities - academic more than athletic. He talks of earning a master's degree.

Middleton, whose artistic side reveals itself in the poetry he writes, foresees a time when his technical know-how will help design combat systems and naval architecture. And if not the NFL, he later envisions a career in the FBI.

"I'm more excited about Wyatt's future, what that future can bring if he's willing to work hard," says Al, "because everything we do is systems oriented. Technology is going to get more sophisticated. I can't even fathom how unlimited technology will be. I'm a lot more excited about that than I am about the possibility of him playing in the NFL. I believe that in my soul."

By his coach's account, Middleton is, truly, a modern-day model for Navy football.

"He's been a guy who's taken care of business, juggling all three of those balls," Niumatalolo says of Middleton's ability to handle his academic, military and athletic responsibilities. "For us to go out and recruit anybody now, Wyatt Middleton would be the mold we would try to recruit."

As recognized by others, including the committee that awards The Lott Trophy. Established by the Pacific Club IMPACT Foundation, the honor is named for USC great and pro Hall of Famer Ronnie Lott. Its winner is selected on the merits of both on-field performance and off-field character. Middleton is among the 42 defenders named on the Lott Trophy's preseason watch list.

"Being committed to the program means you're going to be willing to make a commitment to everybody," he says. "Navy football embodies selflessness and serving the community. Coach Niumatalolo talks about it all the time, we have young players and young men who've made sacrifices to play football."

Such talk resonates all the way to Norcross, Ga., where Al hears the echoes of his father's voice reverberating in the words of his son's coaches.

"What I really wanted from my kids' coaches is to have a good experience," he says. "What he's heard constantly the last four years from his coaches reinforced the points he's been hearing his whole life. They reinforce everything that's been told to him his whole life. There was no confusion. The values they stress are consistent with what I've tried to teach Wyatt."

More important than a youngster who makes plays, those values beget a man who makes a stand.

"Wyatt's a great human being," says Niumatalolo.

"He's comfortable with who he is," Al Middleton says. "(I wanted) for our children to feel at a very young age that they are a gift. They have a purpose. I tell them that they chose me. I thank them through the years for choosing me to guardian them through this journey. They were placed here for a special purpose. No one can be them. Only Wyatt can be Wyatt.

"I really want people to learn what a great son he is. I couldn't have designed a better son than Wyatt."