Vikings rookie camp: Sports was his way out of danger

The cell phone is the first indication that Jaymar Johnson can't be lumped into the category of "just another football player."

Call Johnson and you won't hear music as you wait for an answer. Instead, there is a passage from the Book of Matthew: "For what profit is it to a man if he gains the whole world, and loses his own soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?"

Said Johnson: "I used to call people's phones and you'd hear all this music and stuff like that. I was like, 'Man, if I'm going to put something like that on my phone, it's going to be something to help somebody.' "

Johnson is only 23, but his maturity level appears to far exceed his years, in large part because of what he has been through.

The fact the receiver faces steep odds of making the Vikings after being a sixth-round pick in last weekend's NFL draft is just the latest obstacle.

The youngest of eight children, Johnson grew up in the violence-plagued city of Gary, Ind. Although he kept his nose clean, trouble found him on at least two occasions, he said.

The first time came when he was "13 or 14 years" old: Johnson's younger nephew had just gotten out of a car driven by his mother when machine gun fire erupted. Johnson quickly grabbed his cousin and got him to duck behind the back seat.

A couple of years later, Johnson was playing basketball on a playground with one of his brothers, a cousin and a friend.

"Next thing you know this car just came down the street and started shooting," he said. "We took off running. Me and my cousin ran around the back way, and my brother went around the other building on the other side. We met up at my cousin's house. We were running for about 10 minutes."

Johnson, who is among those at Winter Park this weekend taking part in the Vikings' three-day rookie camp, knows the results of those two incidents could have been tragic. But with a glass-half-full philosophy, he often cites the positive side of negative experiences.

"Actually, growing up in that situation makes you stronger as a person," he said. "It makes you appreciate life and makes you appreciate the little things in life. It teaches you not to take things for granted and things of that nature.

"I'm just fortunate to be here right now. It's a blessing. Fortunately, nothing bad happened back at home as I've seen happen to many other people back home."

Johnson, who married his high school sweetheart (they will celebrate their second anniversary this month), credits his siblings and love of sports with keeping him on the right path. Asked if there was ever any temptation to become involved with a gang, Johnson admitted he never gave himself time to consider it.

"I've always been busy because I always played [sports]," he said. "It was always football and then I went straight to basketball and then I went straight into track. Even in the summer you have summer training."

Johnson's devotion to sports paid off on the football field. An all-state, all-conference and all-area selection as a senior at Wirt High School, he drew interest from Ohio State and Penn State among others. But Johnson found out he wouldn't be eligible to play as a freshman because of his SAT scores, and the only school willing to offer him a full scholarship was Jackson State of the Southwestern Athletic Conference.

He was able to get himself noticed by NFL scouts in part because of his statistics -- he caught 36 passes for 613 yards and seven touchdowns and averaged 9.6 yards on punt returns and 16.9 yards on kick returns as a senior -- and also because of his speed (4.3 seconds in the 40-yard dash).

That speed comes despite the fact Johnson was born with clubfoot (the bottom of the feet face inward), just another part of his story. At one point, doctors thought they might have to break Johnson's legs in order to fix the bones; that was avoided only after he wore casts on his legs for a total of 11 months as a toddler to fix the problem.

"He's been through extraordinary circumstances already and managed to overcome that and get a degree," Vikings coach Brad Childress said. "God willing he can contribute here."

Johnson, for one, doesn't appear to be sweating it.

"I believe God has a purpose for me, so that's why I'm standing here today," he said. "A bullet doesn't have anybody's name on it so it could easily hit anyone at any given time. I'm just fortunate to be here."