Danny Wilmer could have written the book on recruiting

By Jerry Ratcliffe

Every time I see an alarm clock, I think of Danny Wilmer, the greatest college football recruiter I ever knew. Danny, who signed some of the greatest names in Virginia football history, used the alarm clock as a secret weapon.

While in pursuit of a blue-ribbon prospect, often recruiting against football programs with a more storied gridiron history, Danny would deliver an alarm clock to the prospect’s mother with a simple message.

Let’s say he was recruiting a player from Hampton. Before the player and his family would depart on a visit elsewhere, Danny would instruct the mother to set the alarm for 2 hours and 15 minutes, the time it would take that family to drive the 147 miles to Virginia’s campus.

If the recruit was headed to Chapel Hill, the alarm would sound a little more than two hours into the trip, with more than another hour to drive. Clemson? Add four more hours after the alarm sounded, reminding the family that Charlottesville was so much closer to home.

Danny Wilmer, who passed away this week at the age of 77 (see related story), was brought to UVA from JMU by Hall of Fame coach George Welsh, who knew he had to upgrade the program’s talent to reach the heights Welsh envisioned. Danny had carved out a reputation as a master recruiter while at JMU when he signed Gary Clark, who went on to star with the Washington Redskins, and Charles Haley, who went on to own five Super Bowl rings (more on Haley later in the story).

Realizing he was attempting to lure potentially big-time players to JMU, which was Division I-AA at the time, and to UVA, which had formerly been the butt of every college football joke before Welsh arrived, Danny had to be innovative, think outside-the-box. He made it a priority to recruit the momma’s and to make a strong impression on in-home visits. Oh, and yeah, he used the church when possible, too, getting pastors involved if he could (all within the rules, of course).

For instance, when Virginia was recruiting some of the top players out of the 757, players who could have committed anywhere in the country, Danny told them, “You know, Jesus never traveled any further than a half-hour from home and look at all the great things he accomplished.”

Former UVA basketball coach Jeff Jones, who was also recruiting a couple of those same football players to play hoops for the Cavaliers, caught wind of Danny’s story and when bumping into Wilmer the next day, said: “Jesus, Danny? Jesus? Really?”

I couldn’t possibly name all the great players that Danny brought to Virginia from our state and also from North Carolina, but here’s a few: Shawn Moore, Herman Moore, Thomas Jones, Terry Kirby, Chris Slade, Tiki and Ronde Barber, Heath Miller, Anthony Poindexter, Marques Hagans, Tony Covington, Antoine Womack, Mark Dixon, Ty Lewis, Tyrone Davis, Germaine Crowell, James Farrior, Jamie Sharper … sure I’ve left some out, but you get the picture.

I had to good fortune to hit it off with Danny soon after he came to UVA in 1984. I probably crossed the professional line of sportswriter/coach as we became steadfast friends for life. He actually talked me into taking recruiting trips with him around the Commonwealth and beyond, spending countless hours driving all over Virginia, North Carolina and even into South Carolina.

It wasn’t unusual for him to visit a number of schools in a day and it was normal for him to take in three high school games in one night.

I remember asking him on my first “three-game” trip with him, who was he looking at, what were the jersey numbers, to which he replied, “Don’t know their numbers, don’t need to know. If they’re worth recruiting, I’ll spot them.”

The one thing that was constant when I accompanied him into coaching offices at all these high schools was his opening line: “Coach, you got anybody here that can help us beat Florida State?”

He would visit so many schools in a day or two days, that it would leave recruiters from rival schools bewildered. They would ask, “How did you get to all those schools?”

Danny would chuckle, delivering his answer: “Helicopter.”

I don’t know if those other coaches bought the story, but they looked really concerned that they were getting beat and maybe hustled at the same time.

I would always keep a low profile on the visits, although a lot of the high school coaches in this state knew me because I talked to so many of them about recruiting over the years. In North and South Carolina, a lot of those high school coaches — who lit up like Christmas trees when Wilmer walked into their offices — none of them knew me. I kept quiet and watched the master do his work. Danny didn’t wear a coat and tie, but a Virginia football jacket, and the high school coaches seemed to like that.

On the way out of the school, Danny would say his goodbyes to them and usually those out-of-state coaches would say, “I didn’t get your name, coach,” to me. I would usually tell them I was a sportswriter compiling background for recruiting stories, but one time in Orangeburg, S.C., before I could say anything, Danny said, “Oh, he’s my pilot.”

I was keeping my mouth shut on that one, until the high school coach said, “What kind of plane you flyin’?” Now, I was on the spot and I could see Danny grinning up ahead. All I could think of was, “It’s a small Cesna,” the only aircraft I knew, and before the coach could ask any more questions, I nudged Danny quickly to the door.

That’s the kind of guy Danny was. A fun-loving dude.

It always amazed me how many phone calls he would make and receive to prospects, to coaches, to Welsh for updates, in a few hours drive. He had an incredible filing system he carried with him, index cards, a system that only he could figure out, but man, he was always on top of things.

Danny knew all the backroads, shortcuts to get places quickly, and often we’d stop at some hole-in-the-wall only to be greeted by the owner, who obviously held Danny in the highest order.

They would always offer a free meal, and one guy would also give us a brown bag with a jar of moonshine to take home. Home was Danny’s spread off Rt. 250, not far from the women’s prison, and he had a second structure across the road from his home that he called “The Rasta House,” where many coaches and friends spent time sipping a cool one or the moonshine and watching sports on TV, talking about history (Danny was a real history buff). In fact, in the bedroom where he passed, there are two paintings above the bed. One is of George Washington, kneeling to pray beside his stallion, the other of Stonewall Jackson, also praying.

Once upon a time, during a 90-minute sitdown with Joe Paterno in his Penn State office, JoePa told me that Welsh was the best evaluator of talent that he had ever known. I think George saw some of that in Danny and admired him for it, trusted his judgment.

That sure was the case one day down at Hampton High School, home of the Crabbers, the office of legendary Mike Smith. Smith loved Danny, and vice versa.

This one day in particular, Danny was telling Smith about how Virginia really needed a quarterback. Smith looked up and said, “Hell, Danny, the best athlete in the state is right there under your nose at Fork Union.”

Smith was referring to Marques “Biscuit” Hagans, who had starred at Hampton, but needed a year at FUMA before moving on. Hagans was committed to Indiana, who saw him as the next Antwaan Randle El. He didn’t stay committed to Indiana once Wilmer was on the trail.

Hagans, who played wide receiver, return man, and quarterback at Virginia, was outstanding. In fact, he came close to making legendary Florida State coach Bobby Bowden cuss after Hagans led UVA to an upset over the Seminoles in 2005.

“We couldn’t stop that dadgum No. 18,” Bowden said.

There’s a jillion Wilmer recruiting stories, but one of the best was when he recruited unknown Charles Haley, from Gladys, Va., and William Campbell High School. Nobody knew about Haley, and Danny signed him at JMU.

Haley, of course, went on to stardom, has five Super Bowl rings, is in the 49ers’ Hall of Fame and the Dallas Cowboys’ Ring of Honor.

I was in Phoenix, covering Super Bowl XXX in Tempe in January of 1996. The Cowboys beat the Steelers, 27-17. It was the last time Dallas made it to the Super Bowl.

Charles Haley had made a great play in the game and I wanted to talk to him afterward. The Cowboys didn’t bring him out to a podium for interviews, so I had to wander inside Sun Devils Stadium and found my way back into the Dallas locker room.

Haley was at his locker, puffing on a victory cigar. I approached with some trepidation because I was told Haley wasn’t always happy to see sportswriters.

“Congratulations, Charles,” I said. Haley gave me an intimidating glance and I figured I had better think of something fast.

“Danny Wilmer told me to give you his best,” I said.

Haley looked at me and smiled, extended his hand and said, “If it wasn’t for Danny Wilmer, I wouldn’t be in football.”

Haley went on to give me a great interview. That’s what all of Wilmer’s former players think of him, how much they loved Danny Wilmer.

Rest in Peace, my friend. We will miss you.