On football Saturdays, Johnson, 49, is usually dressed in a cowboy hat and boa and waits outside the locker room to offer hugs and encouragement to each player on the 105-man roster. "She seems like the most lovable, huggable woman there is,'' fifth-year senior long-snapper Drew Norman said earlier this season. "You come out, and she's wearing a smile. She's energy all the time. She's just unreal. "That hug after a game makes it seem very family-like,'' he said. Hugs are small change for Johnson, who offers much more to her son's teammates. A self-employed motivational speaker and youth minister at St. John African Methodist Episcopal Church in Worthington, she became the first female to address the Buckeyes at their Saturday chapel service this season at Illinois.
Niger RPCV Debbie Johnson quit her job and has spent the past five years as the OSU football "team mom" -- a role she says has become her true passion
`Mom' to all Buckeyes
Jay Richardson's mother gives players family feeling with hugs, food, prayers
By Marla Ridenour
Beacon Journal sportswriter
There was a time when Debbie Johnson's job was her passion.
She held an $80,000-a-year civilian position with the Department of Defense. She was five years from retirement.
Then, when one of her sons, Ohio State senior defensive end Jay Richardson, was a high school junior, Johnson's focus changed. She says she heeded a call from the Lord and quit the job. She has spent the past five years as the OSU football ``team mom'' -- a role she says has become her true passion.
Johnson, the former student body president at East High School in Cleveland, founded Ohio State's parents association with Nick Mangold's father, Vern, after the 2002 Fiesta Bowl.
Now the parents group's president, she has been its larger-than-life figure and has no intention of severing ties after Richardson plays his final college game against Florida on Jan. 8 for the BCS national title in Glendale, Ariz.
On football Saturdays, Johnson, 49, is usually dressed in a cowboy hat and boa and waits outside the locker room to offer hugs and encouragement to each player on the 105-man roster.
``She seems like the most lovable, huggable woman there is,'' fifth-year senior long-snapper Drew Norman said earlier this season. ``You come out, and she's wearing a smile. She's energy all the time. She's just unreal.
``That hug after a game makes it seem very family-like,'' he said.
Hugs are small change for Johnson, who offers much more to her son's teammates.
A self-employed motivational speaker and youth minister at St. John African Methodist Episcopal Church in Worthington, she became the first female to address the Buckeyes at their Saturday chapel service this season at Illinois.
When sophomore defensive tackle Nader Abdallah's brother was killed, Johnson said, ``the first person he called was me.''
When senior defensive tackle David Patterson learned that he needed arthroscopic knee surgery this season, Johnson invited him and his mother to her home to pray.
When offensive lineman Steve Rehring contracted pneumonia in 2005 and when receiver Tyson Gentry broke a vertebra in his neck in April that left him paralyzed, Johnson and the parents group rallied around them.
Every Saturday before a game in Ohio Stadium, the parents meet an hour before kickoff in the visiting team's media room for prayer. Opponents' families also are invited. She said a Michigan family joined them Nov. 18, and a group of about 60 from Texas held the session in the parking lot before the September 2005 game.
``We're still praying for (Maurice) Clarett,'' Johnson said of the former OSU tailback serving a 3 ½-year prison term. ``We see a kid who for whatever reason didn't get the support he needed to make good judgments. We don't know what went wrong, but we can at least try to intervene.''
A welcoming home
During the football season, Johnson mixes religion and revelry. After games, players stop by the parents group's famous Lincoln Tower tailgate parties -- boosted by standout cook Glen Johnson, her second husband, who has worked for UPS for 25 years and also owns Black Orchid Catering -- or go to the Johnsons' home for dinner or solace, especially when they're not on the traveling squad.
``When I was a freshman, me and Santonio Holmes lived together, and they let us know from the beginning it was a place we could get home-cooked food,'' said former OSU safety Nate Salley, now with the Carolina Panthers. ``She's very enthusiastic about it, takes a lot of pride in being the team mother.''
Senior strong safety Brandon Mitchell said he spent time at the Johnsons', especially during his redshirt freshman year.
``For away games, we'd go over there and watch the game and eat,'' Mitchell said. ``It's a good time. I'm very grateful for her. A great woman. Everybody on the team loves her.''
Debbie Johnson remembers a day when quarterback Troy Smith brought two friends and took refuge in the Johnsons' basement. ``When he came up, he said, `Thank you for a couple of hours of peace,' '' she said.
Players know they can come over to talk, even if Richardson is not around.
``I'm a magnet for kids who play ball,'' said Johnson, who is also a substitute teacher in Columbus. ``They find me and tell me what's going on with their coach, how they're trying to get into a school. They come on their free periods and find me.
``My absolute passion is connecting with these young men. Young men are the most difficult group to find their space. They don't open up as easily, so parents sometimes have a difficult time connecting with their sons.
``Now I know why I quit my job. It wasn't just about my children. I think my destiny was to have these experiences to understand what the need was. What is so important is finding the gift that lives in your kid.''
Richardson doesn't mind sharing his mother with the rest of the Buckeyes. ``It's no problem; I've had her for 22 years,'' he said. ``They all call her `Mom,' and I think it's really good to have that family atmosphere around our team.''
There are times, however, when he must escape from his ever-talkative mother. ``She'll keep you, won't she? She can talk up a storm,'' he said. ``I've learned techniques to get away from her when it comes to that.''
Debbie Johnson has so much to talk about, it's no wonder that young men are drawn to her.
Her college days
As an OSU student, she never missed a football game and persuaded sister Lois to delay her honeymoon so they could attend the January 1976 Rose Bowl.
Johnson, a French major, played left side prop on the OSU women's club rugby team for a year because the international tournament was held in New Orleans during Mardi Gras.
``I love adventure. I love travel. I will try anything if it's not illegal, immoral or unethical,'' Johnson said. ``They said, `All you need is a mouthpiece.' Our team captain was a woman named Hoss. The team was the Iron Ovaries.
``I told Jay, `It's such a vulgar sport, our team song I couldn't even sing to my children.' I kept thinking, `Mardi Gras.' ''
After graduating from OSU in 1979, Johnson served in the Peace Corps in the African nation of Niger. Being a single, black female in a land-locked, Third World Muslim country wasn't easy. She was called home after six months when her boyfriend suffered a relapse of Hodgkin's disease; he later died.
She got her graduate degree in social welfare policy at Brandeis University outside Boston, was accepted into the presidential intern program under Ronald Reagan and moved to Washington, D.C. In her government career, she lived in Guam for two years, was a labor relations officer during the Persian Gulf War and negotiated contracts.
Multi-tasking
She has always been the consummate multi-tasker. As a senior at East High, then-Debbie Hubbard was called into the principal's office because he thought she was so overextended she shouldn't run for senior class president. ``He said, `You cannot do everything,' '' she remembered. ``I was thinking, `You can if you're a good leader because you're not doing everything; you're the orchestrator.' ''
She relented -- with a twist that kept her in power behind the scenes. ``I talked one of my buddies on the football team into being president so I could still be `president.' I said, `We've already planned the prom. I've written your speech. All you have to do is run.' ''
Johnson's talents for juggling never have been more evident than in the past few years. She is finishing her first book, From the Heart of a Football Mom, in the works for three years. Its theme is how to nurture your children.
She said that if you can connect with your child, ``an incredible thing starts to happen.''
``In this process, we found our middle child is the most gifted poet you'll ever meet. We discovered 60 poems that would take your breath away. I didn't realize there was that much stuff inside. That's how he found his space. My baby sings. He's in the Dublin honors choir. They all play football.
``This is my absolute passion. My presiding elder said, `Stop struggling with what you need to do in the ministry. This is your ministry. Only God would have taken you off your job, guided you into this position.' ''
Glen Johnson has fully supported her decision to alter her life's direction, which came when Jay Richardson was a junior at Dublin Scioto High School.
Her other two sons
Not long after the career change, Johnson said, her boys became needy. The youngest, Joshua Odis Johnson, now 14, is dyslexic. Middle son Joshua Alexander Richardson, now 17, ``was being a classic middle child and trying to find his space.'' Both were overshadowed by Jay Richardson, who was such a highly sought recruit as a Dublin Scioto senior that even Lou Holtz, then at South Carolina, called their house.
Johnson devotes herself to her ministry -- and to football -- with a seemingly limitless reserve of passion. Despite having a left ankle that required 14 pins and two metal plates to repair when it was shattered as she watched one of Jay Richardson's eighth-grade football games from the sideline, she leaped over the Ohio Stadium railing in 2002 to celebrate the victory over Michigan. She found her son in the mob before the smell of tear gas prompted her to leave the field.
Richardson graduated in December, but Johnson can't say goodbye to her OSU friends. She plans to begin an alumni wing of the parents group that could help former players find jobs.
With Richardson hoping for a chance in the NFL, Johnson has another goal in mind. ``She tells me, `You'd better go to the NFL so I can do one of those Chunky soup commercials,' '' he said.
No one who knows Johnson will rule that out. But there are days when she's still amazed by where her son's football experiences have led her.
``I could not have imagined I would have a son play for Ohio State,'' she said. ``It's still kind of surreal. Even after five years, some days I go, `I can't believe this is my life.' ''
Marla Ridenour can be reached at mridenour@thebeaconjournal.com.
