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http://www.palmbeachpost.com/dolphins/content/sports/epaper/2008/05/04/a12b_dolphins_0504.html

Abandoned by his father, Dolphins' DE Merling was raised by his uncle

By CARLOS FRÍAS
Palm Beach Post Staff Writer

Sunday, May 04, 2008

Phillip Merling was a big distraction for the other first-graders.

Towering over his classmates, looking like a third-grader who'd been incorrectly assigned to that class, he complicated matters by being a dynamo, and rambunctious, as teachers tried to keep order. So they called in his parents.

"He was disrupting class because he was so playful, so much larger than all the other students," his mother, Sharon, remembered.

His teacher suggested sports to channel Merling's energy, maybe football. But the only football league available near them in Hampton, Va., required children to be at least 8 years old; Phillip was barely 6.

He was already as tall as most 8- or 9-year-olds and when the Merlings spoke with youth league coaches about their predicament, they pulled some strings to let him play.

What did his mother think about her little boy banging helmets with boys who, at that age, can be so much more advanced physically?

"I was a little afraid for the other kids," Sharon Merling said.

Football did the trick for Phillip's endless energy, and it allowed him to concentrate in the classroom. It would do more than help him become the 32nd overall pick in last month's NFL Draft to the Dolphins. It would be the outlet for a boy whose idyllic life would change in an instant.

Chris Rumph remembers his summers in Virginia so vividly.

It was a welcome break from the steamy heat in South Carolina's low country, where the Rumph name goes back for generations. Visiting his sister Sharon's family in Hampton during his teenage years meant a summer job at the restaurant where he worked as a cook and once saw J.R. Reid during his glory years in the NBA. Where he bathed in the waters off Virginia Beach. But the most fun he had those summers was with his nephew, Phillip.

He loved just babysitting the boy, hanging out by the family pool, wrestling with him in the back yard, walking him to youth league football games or watching him play baseball. Even then, he loved that his nephew looked up to him.

"We had a lot of fun," Chris said.

The lifestyle was different, too. Phillip and his sister, Heather, lived in a 3,200-square foot, three-story home near Langley Air Force Base. Phillip's father was a naval officer and Phillip was born at the Naval hospital in Portsmouth, Va.

Sharon missed her family, though, and it took years of pleading before she convinced her husband to move back near her family in St. Matthews, S.C., when Phillip was 13.

But that move put a strain on the marriage. One evening, Phillip stayed home while the rest of the family visited a family member who was on his deathbed. When they returned that night, Phillip's father, and all his personal belongings, were gone.

Sharon could hear her son outside the house, stomping and kicking, swearing under his breath, punching into his hands, and punching the sides of the shed out back. For years, Phillip would not speak to his father.

"It was devastating to him," Sharon said. "He was so angry — hurt, most of all. He was in disbelief: What happened, what went wrong? Everything was so normal until then."

Phillip began to rebel. He found no comfort at home as his mother, too, was distracted, dealing with the unexpected blow. He would often go for walks by himself, alone in the small town, even as night began to fall. He found himself spending the afternoons at the homes of his grandparents and his uncle, Chris, who was now his football coach at Calhoun County High, and lived within a mile or so of his mother's home.

Phillip would show up on an idle midweek afternoon and ask Rumph's wife, Kila, if she could make him her famous pancakes. He often stayed for dinner — "He could eat three servings before I sat down to eat," Kila said — and then spent the night.

"To me, it was just him looking for that comfort, for that love," Chris said. "He was just bouncing from place to place, just drifting. I looked at my own son and said, 'This isn't cool.' "

When he wasn't there, Phillip often fended for himself, subsisting on Hardee's hamburgers and whatever other fast food was available. One night, Chris and Kila were driving home as dusk turned to night when they saw a towering figure walking aimlessly on the sidewalk. It was Phillip, heading nowhere in particular.

"At that moment, you saw that kid in the world alone," Kila said. "He needed a home, not a house. He didn't need a roof over his head. ... I can't stand the fact that he lived one second like that."

Chris talked it over with his sister and Phillip. And the very next night, as Phillip was beginning his junior year, he moved in with Chris and Kila.

"That structure, that saved him," Sharon said.

It was awkward at first, since Chris Rumph is just 14 years older than his nephew and the couple were in their mid-20s when they took in Phillip.

Still, Chris applied order as if it were to his own son, Christopher, now 9. Phillip was no longer allowed those long walks that, sometimes, kept him out after midnight. He had a curfew and was expected to do chores. Kila oversaw Chris' schoolwork and Chris, a one-time University of South Carolina linebacker, watched over him during the day at school and at football practice.

"I don't know how you can have this gorgeous, humble, amazing, talented son and not want to be in his presence all the time," Kila said. "He completed our family. It felt like it was the way it was supposed to be when he came to live with us."

But there was only a limit to what Chris could demand of his nephew. Before the start of his Phillip's senior year, Chris got an offer as an assistant coach at the University of Memphis. They would have to move immediately. And, in Chris' mind, that meant, Phillip, too.

"Oh, you're going. You're going and you're living with us," Chris told Phillip, who at first did not want to leave just before his senior year.

Chris let off a bit when Phillip's grandfather suggested what might happen if he forced Phillip to go and things turned out badly. Chris softened his stance, but kept up the pressure. He knew the pitfalls of Calhoun County, where the slow-living, easy lifestyle lulled boys who grew up there to stay a while longer, and 50 years later, woke up with their whole lives having gone by.

"The town grabs hold of you and life is so easy, that it makes you complacent," Chris said. "But I just think that life has more to offer, especially for someone blessed with the ability to do so much more."

Days before the family left, Phillip simply told his uncle, "I'm going." And he did.

Phillip played his senior year at the local Cordova High School, but his grades, lagging since he had been in Calhoun County, kept him from accepting a scholarship to South Carolina or Clemson. But Clemson said they would honor the offer if he graduated from Fork Union Military Academy, a prep school. It was just one more challenge that Chris and Kila helped Phillip confront.

In the days before he left, Phillip, who so often reclined on the couch and let Kila tickle his hair, found himself nipping at her and she in return.

"I know what's the matter: You're having empty nest 'cause you're going to miss me when I'm gone," Kila said he told her. He was right, she admitted.

At Fork Union he lived the military life, getting up at 5 a.m. to make his bed, pick up his room, shine his shoes, press his clothes, march before dawn and learn the only two acceptable answers in his new world: "Yes, sir!" and "No, sir!" He would send home letters that reminded the Rumphs of Phillip's studious younger sister, Heather. Kila and Chris read the letters over and over on the couch, laughing between tears.

Chris, Kila and Sharon watched Phillip graduate from Fork Union in his military dress uniform. And when Phillip saw Chris for the first time, he could not fight back the tears that Kila caught, forever, in a picture she keeps in her living room. Chris has two sons now, ages 9 and 2, but he always sees Phillip as the first son he saw graduate, the one who gave him an advanced course in fatherhood.

"It wasn't just a one-way street with Phillip. We helped him and he helped us," Chris said.

Phillip soon earned a spot as Clemson's starting defensive end. And a year later Chris was hired to coach Clemson's defensive line before Phillip's sophomore season. By that time, Chris only needed to work on the player, not the person.

"The work had already been done," Chris said. "He was maturing, disciplined as a young man."

Chris said Phillip relied on that maturity when deciding to enter the NFL Draft a year early. Scouts predicted he would be a late first- or second-round pick. Plus, Merling had fallen for a South Carolina student and the two had a daughter, Justice, who made the decision easier.

Merling's father — who has recently re-emerged into Phillip's life, attending his final three college games — could not be reached for this story. And Merling, 22, has chosen only to talk about football for now, reticent to discuss his family life.

But that life has given him all experience he needs for his new job.

"I don't have to talk to him about that because he's lived it," Kila said. "He's not going to be that guy; that's not an option. He's a father, he's a dad."

Never underestimate the effect that military discipline can have on a young player's work ethic...and never underestimate the effect that good work ethic can have on a young player maximizing his physical skills. I'm really looking forward to watching Merling develop!!