One-On-One With the Hawk

There is something far worse than lining up across from Lavelle Hawkins and letting him burn you for a touchdown, or two, or three.

There is the talk that follows.

“I’m gonna smash on you,” Hawkins said. “I’m gonna whoop you another time to let you know I’m the greatest.”

No, the trash talk wasn’t directed at DeSean Jackson in one of their ritually competitive practices. In fact, it wasn’t elicited by anything that happened on the football field.

At least, not a real one.

Something convinced me to challenge the wide receiver in a game of EA Sports’ “NCAA Football 08,” and the trash talk started long before he even stepped foot in my living room Wednesday evening for the showdown.

“I’m gonna give you a blowout,” said Hawkins in all seriousness.

Granted, I’m no video game expert. My skills playing this game are probably on par with Hawkins’ ability to do ballet, but I had spent the last two weeks training for judgment day.

I must have forgotten that two weeks of intense practicing wouldn’t mean much against a player that is featured in the game.

Game One.

After Hawkins insists on playing as Stanford, we enact our own version of the 110th Big Game, and if the upcoming contest is anything like the game that played out on my television screen, it doesn’t bode well for Cal.

At least The Hawk makes things interesting.

“Let’s go Stanford, let’s go!” sings Hawkins upon fielding the opening kickoff.

He tries to get fancy, but the game doesn’t let the Cardinal do much on kickoff return.

“I forgot what team I was playing with,” says Hawkins. “I can’t really be doing all that.”

It’s close only for the first quarter, when Cal manages to tie the score at 7-7 with repeated receptions by a streaking DeSean Jackson.

Hawkins doesn’t seem to appreciate my playing favorites.

“They’re giving DeSean stuff,” says Hawkins. “He ain’t catching no more. I’m gonna make you go to Hawkins!”

But when Hawkins has two consecutive dropped passes, I glare at the real No. 7.

He brushes it off.

“That’s Hawkins, he can’t catch,” he says. “I’m The Hawk! That’s an imposter man.”

On 4th-and-1, I call a familiar play: the draw. But Justin Forsett is stuffed at the line.

“She tried to hit me with the draw,” he says to the raucous crowd of three fans sitting in my living room. “You’ve been watching coach Tedford too much.”

Meanwhile, Hawkins is only momentarily fazed by Stanford’s intrinsic inferiority.

“I need a faster quarterback!” he shouts.

Apparently T.C. Ostrander is not getting the job done. But it soon becomes clear that Stanford will have its best game in years. Ostrander starts to resemble Brett Favre as he lasers passes all over the field. Tailback Anthony Kimble runs roughshod for nearly 200 yards.

“I’m yo’ daddy boy,” he says, popping his collar while Stanford wins the Axe for the first time in six years.

Final score: Stanford 45, Cal 17.

But the challenge isn’t over. We still have to revisit the stadium a younger Hawkins used to call home.

Game two.

“The Eye of the Tiger,” he says. “Tiger Stadium. This is where The Hawk started his career.”

However, before LSU and USC kick off, we listen to the College GameDay crew. He’s not so happy when Lee Corso dons the Trojans helmet.

“Calling the upset at my house?” he screams. “Let’s go.”

As Hawkins gets down to business, it seems as if the underdog role fuels him to play harder. Consequently, the game is much uglier than before, and with double the amount of talking.

The Tigers defense brings the blitz and John David Booty has three turnovers in the first half.

The Tigers on the other hand have little trouble capitalizing. Hawkins decides to sub out Matt Flynn for Ryan Perrilloux, and the young, fast quarterback has a career day.

“This is just beginning,” says Hawkins after helping his team shoot out to a 35-0 lead. “It’s about to get uglier.”

At this point, there’s not much more I can do. As I throw my controller down, junior linebacker Devin Bishop, who has been sitting quietly watching me get demolished, tries to find some encouraging words.

“It’s all right, you’ve got time,” says Bishop. “You’re just down ... 35-0.”

But I know better. As I shake hands with Hawkins, I can’t help but tell him he talks a lot.

The Hawk raises his arms in the air.

“I back it up though!” he says, smiling.

Staring at the screen that reads 35-0, I have no comeback.

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