Ron Dayne, the bruising Wisconsin senior tailback who turned hard knocks off the field into hard knocks on it, won the Heisman Trophy at ceremonies held Saturday at New York's Downtown Athletic Club.
Victory was as predictable as a Dayne run: a straight-forward runaway.
Dayne won with 2,042 votes, followed by Georgia Tech quarterback Joe Hamilton with 994, Virginia Tech quarterback Michael Vick, 319, Purdue quarterback Drew Brees, 308, and Marshall quarterback Chad Pennington with 247.
Dayne is a man of action, not words, a media mystery for much of his collegiate career, a player who ultimately wore down his critics the way he did opposing defenses.
But it was an emotional and humbled Dayne who stood before peers and accepted college football's most prestigious award.
His career has been a steady, relentless push toward respect. Legs churning, Dayne kept moving the pile toward New York until it became inevitable he would end up holding the coveted statue.
Dayne thanked his coach, Barry Alvarez, "for always being there, no matter what goes on," and Steve Malchow, Wisconsin's sports information director, for "helping me with all my media hoopla."
His most touching tribute went to Rob Reid, the uncle who helped raise him in Berlin, N.J., a suburb of Philadelphia.
"Finally, I'd like to thank the real Heisman winner, to me, my Uncle Rob," Dayne said on the live ESPN telecast, "for always being there for me, having somebody to come talk to, to call on the phone, make jokes, everything. I love you."
Dayne rushed for 6,397 yards in four seasons, breaking the Division I-A career mark Ricky Williams set last year, yet Dayne's Heisman was not, as some have suggested, a lifetime achievement award.
He ran for 1,834 yards and 19 touchdowns this season while averaging 6.1 yards a carry in leading the Badgers to the Big Ten title and their second consecutive Rose Bowl appearance.
Dayne could have easily topped the 2,000-yard mark had Alvarez allowed his back to pad his statistics against inferior opponents.
Although reluctant to tell it, the 5-10, 254-pound Dayne is an unqualified success story. His parents divorced when he was 8, and Dayne later moved in with his aunt and uncle because of his mother Brenda's addiction to cocaine.
Recently, Dayne penned a note to his uncle, which read in part: "For never making me feel like a nephew, but always making me feel like a son, for that, Uncle Rob, you win the Heisman."
