A man from the bank was calling with what he presumed was good news: Chuck Muncie's $1-million home loan had been approved.
At the other end of the line, Muncie had no idea what he was talking about. The former California and San Diego Chargers running back had neither applied for a loan nor was looking to buy a house.
He had been scammed.
A victim of identity theft, he was by turns frightened and agitated. But the experience last winter also could be seen as strangely illuminating because it showed just how far Muncie had progressed in reclaiming his good name.
Twenty years ago, nobody wanted to be Chuck Muncie, whose drug addiction had cut short his NFL career and landed him in jail.
Back then, he notes in an interview, "I was spiraling downhill."
Still, before going to prison in 1989 for selling cocaine, Muncie told the sentencing judge, "I am more than willing to get my life back in order."
Clearly, he meant it.
His Chuck Muncie Youth Foundation, a nonprofit established in 1997 and based in Oxnard, has helped countless youngsters avoid the bad decisions that nearly destroyed its namesake, providing Southern California youth with alternatives to the street and offering a highly regarded tattoo-removal program.
Muncie, who spends much of his time at his Bay Area home in Emeryville, also spearheads a mentoring program for athletes at his alma mater.
"Whenever we call, he makes himself available," says Dr. Bill Coysh, director of sports medicine for the Cal athletic department. "That's what's incredible about him. This is not a paid position. He does it because that's how he is."
If a similar program had been in place when Muncie played at Cal, the former running back says, "it would have made all the difference in the world."
Or maybe not.
"Back in the '70s," says Muncie, noting that he started using cocaine in college, "everything was about experimentation, and Berkeley was a different place than it is now. It was a different time, and we didn't have the education we have now on drug abuse, so it's kind of hard to compare. It's apples and oranges."
His past may be less than noble, but Muncie, 55, embraces its lessons.
"Everything I did and everything I went through in my life has allowed me to do the things I'm doing now," says Muncie, who spent about 1 1/2 years behind bars. "I've been able to tell these guys, 'Been there, done that, and if you keep doing these things, this is what's going to happen.' "
