Miss-Delectable
New Member
- Joined
- Apr 18, 2004
- Messages
- 17,160
- Reaction score
- 7
AP Wire | 10/21/2006 | Hearing-impaired Muwwakkil just one of the guys for Hilltoppers
The disclaimer is near the top of Munir Muwwakkil's MySpace page. Two words at the beginning of his bio.
"I'm deaf," it reads.
And that's it. The rest of the page is filled with everything you'd expect to see on a college football player's profile: pictures of his friends (277 at last count, including Baltimore Ravens linebacker Ray Lewis), a list of his favorite movies (a NFL Films compilation from the 1960s, a DVD of the Tampa Bay Buccaneers from 2002, the season they won the Super Bowl) and messages galore, most of them from young women.
By contrast, the "I'm deaf" part almost looks like a typo.
Flip open the Western Kentucky University media guide to the page featuring the 6-foot-3, 285-pound sophomore defensive tackle and there's no mention of Muwwakkil's disability, just the standard list of high school honors and personal tidbits, from his major (physical education) to his hobbies (working with children).
The omission of Muwwakkil's disability isn't intentional. Being deaf - the result of a childhood bout with meningitis - isn't something he's is ashamed of or tries to hide. It's just that he's lived with it so long, it's simply become another physical characteristic, like his shoe size or the length of his hair.
"My parents always pushed me to know that I could do anything outside school," said Muwwakkil through interpreter Teresa Smith.
In fact, the only real indication that Muwwakkil is deaf is the presence of the quiet and tiny Smith, one of a handful of interpreters the school uses to help deaf students communicate in the classroom. Though for Smith and Jeff Bracken - the two interpreters most often assigned to Muwwakkil - those duties extend to the football field, which has a language all its own.
Sorry, but there's no direct American Sign Language translation for defensive calls like "70 Southwest Twist."
"You may say '70 Southwest Twist' but I don't know what that means you want them to do," Smith said. "I have to know your intent or what you're saying and that's been the most challenging. On the sidelines I'm always asking them 'What does Scout mean?'"
Not that Muwwakkil, a backup nose tackle with seven tackles so far this season, needs much translation to know his job is to clog the middle of the line of scrimmage.
"In games you see him throwing folks around and making plays," said defensive line coach Eric Mathies, who has created his own admittedly somewhat crude sign language to talk to Muwwakkil during practice and games. "He gives us a lot of toughness and a lot of size. He's got talent."
Not bad for a player who didn't even take up the game until high school, when he transferred from a residential hearing impaired school to Pinellas Park in Clearwater, Fla., where he lettered for four years.
At Pinellas he discovered a passion for the game that found its way to Western Kentucky after coach Dave Elson received a phone call from Webber International coach Kelly Scott, who told Elson about the big kid with the nonstop motor who just happened to be deaf.
Elson said initially there were some worries about how they would communicate and that he focused a bit too much on how Muwwakkil was adapting.
"At one point during preseason camp, we had trouble getting signals to him," Elson said. "But throughout the grades, he had the same number of missed assignments as the other guys on the defensive line."
And besides, as Elson jokes "he's not ever going to jump offsides."
Elson and Mathies do more showing and less telling while teaching Muwwakkil new techniques, but coaching Muwwakkil is really no different than coaching any other young college football player.
"There are times at the field when I run up to him and tell him some things and he nods his head, but I think he's just doing that to get me away from him," Elson said with a laugh.
Muwwakkil's outgoing personality - he's constantly reminding Mathies just how good looking he is - proved disarming to his teammates, who have quickly adopted Muwwakkil's pregame grunts into a team exercise.
"It'll be real quiet and we'll make him yell out," said quarterback Justin Haddix. "We've got it set up where we raise our hand and he grunts and everybody yells and we all jump around."
Muwwakkil shakes with laughter while Haddix tells the story. He said he never worried about fitting in at Western Kentucky, and perhaps the surest sign that he does comes during those times in practice where his teammates scream his name, forgetting for a moment that he can't hear them.
While they don't know much sign language, they have learned a few key phrases, including the sign for "soft," meaning he's got to play harder. When they want him to pick up the pace, they snap their fingers.
"Once you break through that communication barrier, he becomes a regular 19, 20-year-old football player," Mathies said. "It's amazing really. At first you didn't know what to expect, but then when you realize where he's at and you're excited about where he's going to go."
The disclaimer is near the top of Munir Muwwakkil's MySpace page. Two words at the beginning of his bio.
"I'm deaf," it reads.
And that's it. The rest of the page is filled with everything you'd expect to see on a college football player's profile: pictures of his friends (277 at last count, including Baltimore Ravens linebacker Ray Lewis), a list of his favorite movies (a NFL Films compilation from the 1960s, a DVD of the Tampa Bay Buccaneers from 2002, the season they won the Super Bowl) and messages galore, most of them from young women.
By contrast, the "I'm deaf" part almost looks like a typo.
Flip open the Western Kentucky University media guide to the page featuring the 6-foot-3, 285-pound sophomore defensive tackle and there's no mention of Muwwakkil's disability, just the standard list of high school honors and personal tidbits, from his major (physical education) to his hobbies (working with children).
The omission of Muwwakkil's disability isn't intentional. Being deaf - the result of a childhood bout with meningitis - isn't something he's is ashamed of or tries to hide. It's just that he's lived with it so long, it's simply become another physical characteristic, like his shoe size or the length of his hair.
"My parents always pushed me to know that I could do anything outside school," said Muwwakkil through interpreter Teresa Smith.
In fact, the only real indication that Muwwakkil is deaf is the presence of the quiet and tiny Smith, one of a handful of interpreters the school uses to help deaf students communicate in the classroom. Though for Smith and Jeff Bracken - the two interpreters most often assigned to Muwwakkil - those duties extend to the football field, which has a language all its own.
Sorry, but there's no direct American Sign Language translation for defensive calls like "70 Southwest Twist."
"You may say '70 Southwest Twist' but I don't know what that means you want them to do," Smith said. "I have to know your intent or what you're saying and that's been the most challenging. On the sidelines I'm always asking them 'What does Scout mean?'"
Not that Muwwakkil, a backup nose tackle with seven tackles so far this season, needs much translation to know his job is to clog the middle of the line of scrimmage.
"In games you see him throwing folks around and making plays," said defensive line coach Eric Mathies, who has created his own admittedly somewhat crude sign language to talk to Muwwakkil during practice and games. "He gives us a lot of toughness and a lot of size. He's got talent."
Not bad for a player who didn't even take up the game until high school, when he transferred from a residential hearing impaired school to Pinellas Park in Clearwater, Fla., where he lettered for four years.
At Pinellas he discovered a passion for the game that found its way to Western Kentucky after coach Dave Elson received a phone call from Webber International coach Kelly Scott, who told Elson about the big kid with the nonstop motor who just happened to be deaf.
Elson said initially there were some worries about how they would communicate and that he focused a bit too much on how Muwwakkil was adapting.
"At one point during preseason camp, we had trouble getting signals to him," Elson said. "But throughout the grades, he had the same number of missed assignments as the other guys on the defensive line."
And besides, as Elson jokes "he's not ever going to jump offsides."
Elson and Mathies do more showing and less telling while teaching Muwwakkil new techniques, but coaching Muwwakkil is really no different than coaching any other young college football player.
"There are times at the field when I run up to him and tell him some things and he nods his head, but I think he's just doing that to get me away from him," Elson said with a laugh.
Muwwakkil's outgoing personality - he's constantly reminding Mathies just how good looking he is - proved disarming to his teammates, who have quickly adopted Muwwakkil's pregame grunts into a team exercise.
"It'll be real quiet and we'll make him yell out," said quarterback Justin Haddix. "We've got it set up where we raise our hand and he grunts and everybody yells and we all jump around."
Muwwakkil shakes with laughter while Haddix tells the story. He said he never worried about fitting in at Western Kentucky, and perhaps the surest sign that he does comes during those times in practice where his teammates scream his name, forgetting for a moment that he can't hear them.
While they don't know much sign language, they have learned a few key phrases, including the sign for "soft," meaning he's got to play harder. When they want him to pick up the pace, they snap their fingers.
"Once you break through that communication barrier, he becomes a regular 19, 20-year-old football player," Mathies said. "It's amazing really. At first you didn't know what to expect, but then when you realize where he's at and you're excited about where he's going to go."