Hoping to make Texans cut, Denham knows about survival
Positive mindset enables Denham to rise above a life full of negatives
August 6, 2014
Scroll down the list of names, sliding from Arian Foster and Andre Johnson to the Texans' 2014 draft picks and undrafted rookies. Anthony Denham finally appears.
The 85th of 90 active athletes. One of the most distant long shots to make coach Bill O'Brien's final 53-man cut. A 6-4, 235-pound University of Utah wide receiver turned potential NFL tight end.
That's all Denham merits on the training-camp roster for a rebuilding team. He's a two-a-day practice body and the fifth of five players at a position the Texans will rely upon heavily in 2014 as veteran quarterback Ryan Fitzpatrick searches for safe zones in a new, complex offense.
Denham, 23, is raw, unproven and unknown. And he knows it.
"They really see something in me that I guess I don't see yet," Denham said.
But he has seen and survived so much else. Abandonment. Isolation. Survival of the fittest on the streets and in his own home. Years spent feeling he was unneeded and unwanted yet never fully believing in his heart either was true.
"It's really hard once you're on that path to snap out of it," Denham said. "Because you've bought into doing wrong for so long, it's all you know."
While the world around him shattered and fell apart, Denham slowly rose. From Monterey Park and Pasadena, Calif., to East Los Angeles Community College, Salt Lake City, Houston and the verge of the NFL. Which is partly why the Texans have kept Denham around since May 16.
A foster child who never knew his father and watched his mother succumb to the dark pull of drugs has been given a once-in-a-lifetime chance. Denham won't let go of the opportunity until general manager Rick Smith and O'Brien take it away.
"He's got some unbelievable physical attributes that give him a chance to develop into a player," Smith said. "But what he's made of inside is really going to be the thing that helps him get to where he wants to go."
Separated from family
There is no father. The mother is spiraling, falling for the drug life while five children wither around her. Denham is close to turning 12. Other kids are in middle school. He's in hell.
Denham's great-grandmother finally sees enough. Child services is called, separating Denham's mother, Dana Lewis, from the children she's already left behind. Denham's four siblings go one way. He's ripped apart in a different direction.
"I always had to every day think, 'Oh, yeah, they're going to come back and get me,' " Denham said. "They never did. But I know it wasn't their fault."
For five years, Denham loses track of his family. A black kid drifts further from his own life, becoming part of a Hispanic foster-care household with which he initially has nothing in common. There are too many unknown children, and the single mother now raising Denham is stern and unrelenting.
Denham knows he can run away and let go at any time. He feels the pull. He holds on.
"It hurt me a lot. I always thought I was alone," said Denham, who missed much of the fifth and sixth grades. "But I never fell into that depression state. I always had a positive mindset behind it."
As his body grows, sports grab hold. Basketball and track steady Denham, then football becomes his father figure. He adjusts to his strict new world. He reconnects with his biological family during his junior year of high school. Two years of community college become two years in the Pac-12, with Denham rising higher near the mountains of Utah.
"I had to go through understanding life," Denham said. "Setting goals. Making those goals come true. Achieving things that some said would be unachievable in my situation. So just beating the odds - I had to beat a lot of odds going through what I went through."
Someone special
When Lewis sees her son now, she often breaks down in tears. But there is love, understanding and acceptance. Denham never gave up on his mother.
"She's still fighting the battle. It's on and off," he said. "But she's a very happy lady whenever I see her."
The light-from-darkness mindset is what first sold the Utes on Denham, who entered their program surrounded by red flags, then emerged with an above 3.0 grade-point average and the enduring respect of teammates and coaches.
"As soon as you start to get to know him, he's one of those kids you can tell is just genuine and a special, special person," said Utah quarterbacks coach Aaron Roderick, who handled the team's wide receivers in 2013. "I felt like just when he was starting to figure it out, his career was over. If we had one more year with him, there's no doubt in my mind he would've been a draft pick."
With the Texans, Denham is just another undrafted rookie. He could have been cut at any time during the last 21/2 months, but he has outlasted no-namers who have come and gone daily since his arrival.
Monday, Denham was one of the last players to leave the field, putting in extra time with rookie quarterback Tom Savage, then speaking quietly as he recounted his life story.
"For Denham to be where he was and to come here and to be able to get through this training camp … it shows what kind of person he is and the kind of drive that he has," Texans tight end Garrett Graham said.
Aug. 26 and 30 are cut-down days. Denham must survive both to become one of 53. Simply being named among O'Brien's final 75 players would be an achievement.
After being abandoned, then drifting and searching for half a decade, Denham knows where he belongs. It could take years for him to find a home in the NFL. He might never be allowed full entrance into the league. But hanging on, surviving and lasting? Denham figured that out long ago.
"You just move forward," Denham said. "You don't move backward."