There was some funny stuff about his life in there that I didn't know before.
The hysteria grew exponentially the next season, after Clowney was named the nation’s consensus No. 1 recruit. Carroll’s phone rang 40 times a day. Mail piled up in the school offices, thousands and thousands of letters, enough to fill the bed of a pickup truck four times. All the best universities — Alabama, Florida, Louisiana State — wrote regularly. Colorado wrote the most, even sent a box of fake money — total pretend value $1 million — with the team’s mascot, a Buffalo, in place of the usual picture of a president. Harvard, oddly, corresponded.
In the spring before Clowney’s senior year, more than 90 college coaches visited South Pointe’s campus. Nick Saban, the Alabama coach, spoke with Clowney and his parents via Skype. A Texas Tech assistant begged Clowney just to visit, because even if he had no plans to attend there, his presence alone would boost the Red Raiders’ profile.
Snyder recalled one Alabama assistant who sent a text message after midnight.
“Did he say anything about us today?” the coach asked.
“I’m asleep,” came the response.