Quincy Wilson is all smiles.

His 200-watt grin almost never blows a fuse. Whether it be on a Pittsburgh dance floor or in the West Virginia football weight room, Wilson’s pearly whites are always on display.

‘I don’t think he’s had an enemy in his life,’ Mike Weaver, Wilson’s best friend, said. ‘He’s not one of those charismatic smilers. He’s just one of the nicest people I know.’

Chances are, the Mountaineers’ running back will be smiling again when the Orangemen bring their run defense, ranked last in the Big East, to Morgantown, W.Va., on Saturday.

‘He’s always so upbeat,’ West Virginia offensive lineman Lance Nimmo said. ‘He’s just always smiling.’

For the last two years, though, Wilson’s smile hasn’t been so natural. Sure, he was happy off the field. The same happy-go-lucky ‘Q,’ as his teammates call him. But at practice, the smile was artificial, like makeup applied to a bruise.

After carrying the ball for a West Virginia state-record 3,262 yards and 47 touchdowns as a senior at Weir High School in his hometown of Weirton, W.Va., Wilson had been the crown jewel of former West Virginia coach Don Nehlen’s 1998 recruiting class. Recruiting expert Tom Lemming ranked Wilson the third-best running back on the East Coast.

Wilson’s local supporters raved. He was going to lead the Mountaineers to a national title. He was going to win a Heisman Trophy and return the program to its glory days. He was going to start all four years and leave current NFLer and former Mountaineer ‘Famous’ Amos Zereoue forgotten. In short, Quincy Wilson was going to be the man.

‘Everyone hears that the (college) game is a lot faster,’ Wilson said. ‘But everyone still feels like they can go in and make a difference anyway.’

It began well enough. Wilson didn’t start in 1999, his freshman year, but unlike most newcomers, he didn’t sit either. While most redshirted, Wilson’s athletic prowess earned him time on special teams.

That year, however, was also unproven running back Avon Cobourne’s redshirt-freshman season. Cobourne, who arrived at West Virginia in 1998 amid questions about his size and speed, quickly supplied an answer to all his critics, rushing for more than 1,000 yards.

While Wilson entertained thoughts of winning the starting spot during spring practice before his sophomore year, he knew overtaking a 1,000-yard rusher was near impossible. So he entered West Virginia’s spring game aiming for the backup spot.

Instead, Wilson tore his ACL, forcing him to miss an entire season and putting him far behind Cobourne on the depth chart.

While Cobourne juked his way to his second straight 1,000-yard season, Wilson was barely able to jog. After surgery, trainers put him through a grueling rehabilitation.

The treatment brought Wilson to trainer Dave Kerns’ office three times a day for two- or three-hour spans. The first, and most painful, part of the process involved stretching the ligament and returning flexibility.

Three days after the surgery, Kerns said that the running back couldn’t bend his knee. It remained locked in place, held by a brace and an assortment of dials, bolts and screws.

Kerns pushed the stiff kneecap to the right, then left, then up, then down.

‘I wouldn’t wish (the rehab) on my worst enemy,’ Wilson said. ‘Oh man, it was painful.’

Even without the injury, Cobourne had distanced himself from Wilson.

At 190 pounds, Cobourne wasn’t the physical specimen that the 215-pound Wilson was, but he had tremendous agility and picked his holes like the gopher from ‘Caddyshack.’

‘Avon has tremendous vision,’ WVU running backs coach Calvin Magee said. ‘He sees the whole field and always picks the right hole. Quincy has more straight-ahead speed. He’s learning to use his vision.’

With Cobourne enjoying a successful season, Wilson knew he wouldn’t start in his junior year either. Still, Wilson believed Nehlen would give him a chance to contribute.

But then, Nehlen, the winningest coach in West Virginia history, retired. Rich Rodriguez replaced him, scrapping Nehlen’s Power-I offense for a spread formation that would allow Cobourne to use his vision.

While Cobourne naturally adjusted to the scheme, Wilson struggled. The halfbacks were supposed to block more in Rodriguez’s attack and were given more freedom in choosing a hole.

‘(Wilson) was struggling with the system,’ Rodriguez said. ‘Avon picked it up much more quickly. (Wilson) finally understands all the blocking assignments.’

Instead of increasing his participation, Wilson received only 25 carries, two fewer than as a freshman.

He was miserable. He was the son of former NFL player Otis Wilson. He’d never sat the bench. And with Cobourne racking up more than 1,000 yards in each of his first three years, Wilson’s spot on the bench would be warm until he was a senior.

He talked to his best friend, Weaver, a student at Marshall, each week for an hour, mulling over his future at Morgantown.

Wilson wondered if he should have gone to Wisconsin, which also recruited him. Both his father and mother, Kyle, urged their son to seek playing time elsewhere. Weaver encouraged him to come to Marshall, where Wilson was nearly sure to start and would team with quarterback Byron Leftwich to form one of the nation’s most explosive offenses.

‘I was telling him all the time to come to Marshall,’ Weaver said. ‘That way he’d get to play, and I’d get to watch him. I thought he was going to do it, but he stayed at West Virginia.’

‘I was so close to leaving,’ Wilson said. ‘I was just so frustrated. I didn’t think the new system was made for me. I wasn’t getting playing time. I didn’t think the coaches wanted me around.’

While Wilson and Weaver spent their nights talking on the phone, the locals spent their time talking about Wilson.

‘I still have people here who come up to me and ask why Quincy doesn’t play more,’ Weaver said. ‘There’s a ton of pressure if you’re the local guy.’

During his first three weeks at WVU, Wilson did at least one interview every day, and the athletic department restricted his access. The following year he was constantly grilled about his knee. Before his sophomore year, the locals began to wonder if their state’s biggest superstar had turned into the state’s biggest bust.

‘West Virginia’s like the professional team around here,’ Wilson said. ‘A lot of people thought I’d come in and start as a freshman. It was all anyone could talk about.’

This year, with everyone talking about Wilson’s role on West Virginia, a talk with Rodriguez convinced the running back to stay. One day late last season, Wilson marched into Rodriguez’s office to discuss his future. Rodriguez assured Wilson he was part of the team’s plans.

So in the offseason, Wilson worked. By the end of winter, he ranked first among the team’s running backs in the bench press and squats.

At the beginning of the season, coaches dubbed 2002 Wilson’s breakout year. The locals ate it up. And after the second game, so did Wilson.

While Cobourne has received the lion’s share of the carries and currently ranks fifth in the country with 894 yards, Wilson has touched the ball 10 or more times in two of the past three games, running for more than 55 yards both times. He ran for 198 yards against East Carolina, helping WVU to a conference-record 536 yards rushing, and currently averages 8.4 yards a carry.

‘The knee injury actually worked out for the best,’ Wilson said. ‘Otherwise, I’d be a senior. The coaches told me I was part of the plan this year, but that next year I’m the guy that’s going to run for 100 yards a game. Next year, I’m the man.’

You can almost see Wilson smiling at the thought.

Published on October 16, 2002 at 12:00 pm