Bell, a junior, carries the ball for the University of Southern California, treading hard on the heels of such former USC dervishes as Simpson and Anthony Davis. An unknown at the start of the season, Bell has suddenly become one of the most closely watched players in big-time college football. From opening day he has led the nation in rushing, with a total of 723 yards in the first four games, an average of about 6.4 yards per carry. "You've got to gang-tackle Bell," Purdue coach Alex Agase warned his players. "That's the only way you're going to bring him down." Agase's advice was good, if unheeded, and USC won 19-6.
Oddly enough, during his first two years at USC, Bell was not thought of as a runner. During his freshman season, he filled in as a linebacker, then moved to fullback. As a sophomore it was his job to clear the way for All-American Davis, a bruising job. "Tell me," Bell says, "someone who really likes to block." He vowed to replace Davis, a senior, now graduated to the pros.
To make sure he would never again be asked to block, Bell set a USC single game rushing record of 256 yards in this fall's opener. Then, to prove he was no flash in the grass, he ran for 215 yards in his second game.
That's a long way from the self-described "sorriest kid in Houston, Texas." His mother, Ruthie Lee Tatum, was the only parent he ever knew. "It was what you would call a typical black family," Ricky says. "But my mama was strong. She knew where I was every minute. If there was a fight, I was told to get out of it, even if it meant sprouting feathers and flying away."
Mrs. Tatum has seven sons (Ricky is the fifth oldest) and her home is filled with their mementos. "The Lord gave each one of them something special," she says. "Ricky was given the strength of Samson, and that's amazing because he was an anemic baby." (Two other sons are rock musicians.)
When Ricky was 9 years old, the family moved from Texas to Los Angeles. "It really changed my life," he says. "I didn't have any friends and I turned to sports—football and basketball." Mama was never wild about football and preferred that her son sing in the church choir. "I just couldn't stand to see the boys out there hurting each other," she says.
At Fremont High School, Ricky won All-City honors before USC captured him. "I've never wanted to be an average football player," he says. "I've always wanted to be great. But I also want to be liked for myself. It still annoys me when my friends introduce me: 'This is Ricky Bell, he plays for USC Or when kids want to shake my hand just because I'm a player."
Bell begins each day with 150 pushups, urged on by the sound of jazz rock (the Average White Band is his favorite). Then he lifts weights—he can press 365 pounds. It pays off on Saturday. USC coach John McKay notes, "He's not the fastest we've had here. O.J. was. But Bell has a style of his own—he doesn't try to avoid tacklers, he just runs right over them."
Ricky's mama wouldn't know. She hasn't attended a game all season. "I can sit there all quiet like," she says, "but when those players take after my Ricky I jump up and yell, 'Ooh, no!' It scares me to death. But if they make it to the Rose Bowl, I guess I'll go."
Saved by the Bell Reunion
The hookups, the meltdowns, the memoires
The case reveals what was really going on what they think of each other now!
