Everyone wants a piece of Jeremy Shockey. The blond-haired, muscle-bound tight end has gone full circle so fast -- from an under-recruited high school receiver to a Pro Bowler in less than five years -- that he and his entourage have had to put the reins on his growing popularity. Will it even matter?

Almost right from the start of his pro career, the ball-spiking, loose-lipped Shockey has become something of a phenomenon, breaking barriers and stereotypes of the definitively unsexy tight end position and becoming a fan favorite, media foil and target of opponents, seemingly simultaneously.

"He has all the intrinsic qualities as well as the physical tools," Shockey's tight end coach, Mike Pope said. "He wants to be a great player. My job is to constantly remind him that there are a lot of plays that open on Broadway and don't last very long. So if he is going to be a long-running Broadway play, he has to do it every day."

New York might be home of the big Broadway debut, but the Giants' tight end was a smash as a rookie on Opening Night last August at Fawcett Stadium in Canton, Ohio, site of the Hall of Fame Game, playing in his first preseason contest against the Texans. Shockey was behind the rest of his teammates in that game, having held out the first week of training camp, but the Giants decided to let the rookie loose a little in the game. And it has been hard for them to hold him back since.

	Jeremy Shockey has been a big hit in New York.

The memory that Shockey permanently embossed in Giants fans' heads was the image of him making a catch, slipping past one Texans tackler, then blasting through another one for an eye-popping 48-yard reception that -- pardon the pun -- sent shockwaves through the crowd, immediately evoking memories of former Giants tight end Mark Bavaro. He scored two plays later.

Less than a minute after Shockey's highlight play, ABC was showing clips of Bavaro carving up the Eagles' secondary with a bulldozing run 16 years earlier. Not a bad comparison some 20 minutes into your career.

"The fans wouldn't like me if I didn't catch passes or I didn't run over people," Shockey said. "And they wouldn't like me if I caught a two-yard pass and got up and started celebrating either. I just do what I am paid to do."

It was a play that encompassed Shockey's tremendous and diverse skills in a few mere moments: size, speed, elusiveness, strength and a nasty attitude. It was also a play -- and display -- that made the NFL marketing and advertising people drool and dream. They had another young star a la Michael Vick to promote the league. The play had the same effect on companies that wanted Shockey to help shill their wares.

And perhaps it was no coincidence that the game was being played in Canton, either, home of the NFL's Hall of Fame. Perhaps one day they will show that clip again when Shockey is wearing the Hall's patented gold blazer in Canton several years from now. But first things first … .

The 6-foot-5, 255-pound Shockey -- who, at 22, is younger than six of the Giants' draft picks this year -- came into the league out of Miami (Fla.) hyped as a player with skills capable of changing the modern face of the tight end position. Although he struggled at times with injury and double teams throughout as a rookie, he still managed to put together a 74-catch, 894-yard season that earned him a Pro Bowl bid -- the first by a rookie tight end in 15 years.

Adding Shockey made the previously vanilla Giants offense one to be reckoned with and spurred quarterback Kerry Collins, wide receiver Amani Toomer and running back Tiki Barber on to career seasons. Shockey's flashy, on-field mannerisms might have been a turnoff to some, but they were an instant hit among Giants fans and a breath of fresh air to a team needing an injection of life.

"You have to remember," Pope said, "that at Miami, Jeremy was just one of the guys. He did not stand out there. Miami was full of colorful guys like him, and he did not stick out there. You think about Warren Sapp and Michael Irvin and those kinds of guys who came out of there … Jeremy fit right in with that school.

"He has an effect on this team. His plays are usually on the upper edge of spectacular. He runs over two or three guys, which is very uncommon for the position. And it ignites our whole team. The physical way he plays -- that is what has endeared him to our defense."

Beyond strong statistics and barreling runs, Shockey made his impression in other ways off the field. Hailing from map-dot Ada, Okla., Shockey's roots might be rural, but his money-talks (you get the rest) style instantly appealed to no-nonsense New Yorkers. Looking back, it's only fitting that Shockey's introduction to the team would be a wild one as well. As hard as it was for fans watching the Hall of Fame Game to forget Shockey's auspicious debut, imagine what went through his teammates' heads as they were introduced to their fiery, young rookie.

On his way from Miami to Albany, N.Y., where the team holds its training camp, after signing a five-year, $8.5 million deal the night before, Shockey was faced with a slapstick series of cancelled planes, overbooked hotels and mixed or missed messages that turned into a scene reminiscent of Martin Scorsese's New York-set "After Hours," a movie about a man who just can't seem to get home no matter what he does. Shockey ended up sleeping in a limousine parked in a lot outside the team's facility.

Never boring. Always interesting. That same night, a sleep-deprived Shockey had his first encounter. Giants linebacker Brandon Short requested Shockey to sing the Hurricanes' fight song, a time-honored rookie tradition in NFL camps, during dinner at the team's cafeteria. Shockey refused, saying he would do it after he ate. Short took exception. Moments later, the two were brawling. Jeremy Shockey had arrived.

For head coach Jim Fassel, it was apparently love at first sight.

"As soon as I walked out with my cup of coffee," Fassel said last year, "I knew I had my man here."

Over the top

Part of the appeal with Shockey has been like a walk on a cliff: His fans love to ride that edge between dangerous and exciting, and that's the element that makes Shockey so intriguing. Love him or hate him … you have to watch him. And Giants fans were not the only ones to take notice.

Shockey's histrionics also caught the attention of those advertising folks who wanted his mug and name attached with their products in the same sense that they viewed Anna Kournikova as an edgy, generation-X representation of the 18-32 demographic that corners the market. The only difference being, of course, that Shockey could play too. Shockey's marketing guy, Robert Bailey, took the Kournikova model and ran with it.

Shockey's blossoming celebrity soon spread like wildfire. First there were the endorsements. Watchmakers Casio, sporting-goods mogul Steiner Sports and Steve Madden shoes all worked deals with the tight end. The promotions were tailor-made to Shockey's identity: Casio issued a "G-Shock" watch with his likeness; Steve Madden fashioned a two-tone, Giants-blue shoe with Shockey's No. 80 on the side.

Shockey also signed a deal with Nike, and Shockey's management team, including Bailey, president of Miami-based KCB Sports Marketing, and high-profile agent Drew Rosenhaus, had accrued deals that pushed Shockey's off-field salary to an estimated seven figures.

"He is a very hot, marketable guy," Bailey, a former NFL player, said. "He's one of the top (draws) in the NFL. You don't see that happen often much with one particular player, especially in the NFL where everyone wears a helmet. So he definitely is someone that the media and fans want to know what he is doing."

"The season started with a bang in that Hall of Fame game," Rosenhaus said, "and I think it's only going to grow."

There were also the appearances, the most notable of which was a radio spot with shock jock Howard Stern. The show with Stern awakened fans to Shockey's country-inflected voice, which up until then had been muted to TV viewers during games and blunt for the most part with the media.

The show also suddenly opened him to scrutiny. His comments about homosexuality and how he wouldn't accept a gay teammate were accepted negatively by the public, especially among outraged gay and lesbian groups.

Shockey was also fired from his WFAN weekly radio gig with Mike Francesa and Chris Russo and sharply blasted on the air by the hosts for repeatedly calling in late. He was short with the media, giving off an air of apathy and stubbornness.

	“	He has an effect on this team. His plays are usually on the upper edge of spectacular. He runs over two or three guys, which is very uncommon for the position. And it ignites our whole team. The physical way he plays -- that is what has endeared him to our defense. ”
		—Giants TE coach Mike Pope

Add to that a liberal mix of on-field exuberance, and by midseason Shockey had an instant media frenzy surrounding him. Hothead. Hot dog. Immature. Whatever was being said, the adjectives and accusations flew, becoming instant fodder as the Giants stumbled, especially on offense, to a 3-4 start.

Shockey, too, was struggling. He had 22 catches for 278 yards in the first seven games, playing with a toe injury that would nag him the rest of the season -- not exactly the immediate impact people expected.

"It became even more difficult for him," Pope said. "They put two, sometimes three guys on him, and it becomes frustrating when they deliberately take him out of the game. But for him to be able to deal with that is not easy. He played all year with a nasty foot (injury), but he kept coming."

The injured toe was a big factor in the early struggles -- one that Shockey admitted was a severe hindrance.

"Obviously, yeah, it hurt, but it's just a toe," Shockey said. "It hurt a lot, and it will probably hurt next year. So there are definitely things people have to fight with every day, and this is mine."

Fassel took over play-calling responsibilities from offensive coordinator Sean Payton at that point. Fassel knew taking advantage of Shockey's skills and not using him as much as a decoy was necessary. He simplified the offense and kept things basic, appealing to the rookie's no-nonsense style.

It was about that same time that the off-field distractions began to cool down a bit as well. In the final nine games, Shockey caught 52 passes for 616 yards to grab the league's Rookie of the Year award.

And keeping things simple, he said, is what helped keep him focused on what brought him to New York: play football. That's it. Shockey says he does not seek extra attention off the field. He turns down far more deals and public appearances than he approves, according to Bailey, in order to properly ply his trade distraction-free.

"That's where my being in football makes me a valuable piece to this whole puzzle," said Bailey, an 11-year player in the NFL and a Miami (Fla.) alumnus. "I understand what it takes to be a good football player. I know there is a certain level of energy it takes to perform on a daily basis on the field and off the field.

"When I am going through all the different deals that we have on the table for Jeremy, that's my main focus: that these deals don't take away from any of his football responsibilities. I work very closely with the Giants, too. We put football first and his success off the field second."

Said Shockey: "I have a very easy philosophy. I want everything in my life -- everything off the field -- to be easy. I don't want any hassle or distractions. If I have to make an appearance and do all these extra things, I won't do it. I have a job to do, and I feel like if I don't get the job done they are going to fire me and give the job to someone else."

Hot commodity

The flip side is, of course, that everyone wants a piece of Jeremy Shockey. Start with opposing players and fans. Consider 49ers fans, known for their elephant-like recall, who likely will hang onto the memory of Shockey's taunting throughout the Giants' playoff loss to San Francisco last season.

Early on in that game Shockey owned Julian Peterson -- the 49ers' strong-side linebacker who talked trash about the Giants' rookie leading up to the game -- catching a tremendous, leaping touchdown pass as the Giants took a 38-14 lead.

But the tide quickly turned -- for the Giants and for Shockey. Shockey appeared to take a less-than-direct path to the endzone on one reception in order to deliver a crushing blow to Peterson. The linebacker stopped him cold.

	Shockey

Shockey later responded with an unsavory gesture, which cost him $5,000 in fines. New York then blew a 24-point, late second-half lead as Shockey dropped a touchdown pass that could have sealed the game. Among those 49ers fans was the five-year old boy he hit in the face with a cup of ice water; Shockey tossed the cup over his shoulder from the bench that day. The child's father asked for a public apology. The incident cost Shockey another five grand to the league.

In the way that the preseason reception in Canton gave fans a snapshot of his amazing skills, that three-and-a-half-hour playoff game provided a microcosm -- the good, the bad and the ugly -- of Shockey's rookie season, ranging from the unprintable to the unfathomable.

The ice-cup incident also angered Shockey's mother, Lucinda, who called him out on the team bus after the game and again in Hawaii at the Pro Bowl. When Shockey publicly apologized at the Rookie of the Year ceremony, Lucinda told reporters she felt proud of her son.

Shockey is hesitant to talk about his family much, especially his father, who left the family when Jeremy was two years old, but Shockey does say that his mother is close to him and that she "understands how people try to magnify all the negatives. She has a year under her belt now just like I do. I am sure she will see better things come out of (all the attention)," he said.

The spotlight, if anything, has brightened since the end of the season. He was a regular courtside attendee of New Jersey Nets games. He was announced over the loud speaker as being in attendance before the Oscar De La Hoya-Luis Campas fight this May. Even his social life does not escape scrutiny. Shockey has been romantically linked to Brittney Gastineau, the daughter of former Jets sack master Mark, in the New York tabloids. He was even reportedly rebuffed by another Britney -- pop diva Spears -- in a popular Manhattan eatery.

"Jeremy is never going to change," Rosenhaus said. "He was unfazed when he came to Miami, and he was unfazed when he came to New York. All of the superstardom and glitz and glam haven't affected him at all. I think he enjoys a lot of the finer things that come with being a superstar, but he is just a normal guy."

Shockey said being in the spotlight is not necessarily natural for him -- it's just something he deals with. He says he doesn't strive to attract so much attention with his style. It's just his way of getting up during games.

"People (close to me) know who I am," he said, "and there's no change in who I am. A lot of people think it's a show or whatever. I do what I do to get the people around me up, and I do it to get myself up. I play better pissed off. I play better when people around me say something to me out on the field. I pick up the paper, and I read this guy is going to shut me down. That's what I feed off of."

And there is his odd relationship with the media -- the folks in New York who follow him around every day. Shockey says he doesn't need the media to make friends, change his image or earn himself a cushy TV deal after his career ends.

"During the season I don't want them near me," Shockey said. "I understand I have to talk to them. Sometimes I'll not talk to them and just walk out. (Giants PR) will say you have to talk to them, and I will just walk out. It just depends what mood they get me in. I don't want to sit around and waste my time talking. Half the (stuff) you say to them, they turn around and write something else.

"I am not going to get wrapped up in loving the media. I treat them like they are my enemy half the time. I appreciate they have a job to do and I have to inform them about what's going on out there and all that."

On a national level, no fewer than four magazines are doing cover stories featuring No. 80. The parade is unlikely to end anytime soon. And there are those continuing endorsement and public-appearance requests, which still roll in every day -- something the Giants have been monitoring closely. Rumors swirled at the end of last season that coaches and team officials were concerned about Shockey's antics and public appearances not only creating a distraction but also casting a negative light on someone they thought was a misunderstood young man.

"No one has (said anything) to me like that," Shockey said. "I think (the team) respects my style. But in the same sense, they don't want me to throw ice in the crowd, which, you know, I don't want myself throwing ice in the crowd. I don't want to flip off somebody or anything like that. I get caught up in it, and a lot of people don't. I definitely need to change a few things, but the approach will be the same.

"I think (the public) senses how I am on the field and thinks that's how I am off the field. Off the field, I am really relaxed. I like to go out and have my fun. Whatever I do, I want to do well. If I go out drinking, I kind of want to be a good drinker."

So does Shockey have an image problem? Or is it just a matter of the public not really knowing the real Jeremy Shockey? His fractured public identity makes one wonder which image are Bailey and Rosenhaus trying to purvey for their client: Steve Madden or Howard Stern?

"He is a reluctant superstar," Rosenhaus said. "He doesn't seek out attention, and he turns more offers down than some (athletes) receive in a lifetime. The image he gives off and the stuff he does off the field don't shed a negative light on him. Very few people know the real Jeremy -- only what he lets them know."

Equal parts color and controversy, Shockey never fails to keep us intrigued -- whether or not he wants us to be. As private in some respects as Shockey is, we are left to guess at his motivation. His raucous celebrations might be misconstrued as youthful brashness, and his on- and off-field bursts still can be filed under exuberance or inexperience in some people's minds.

"Jeremy plays the game the way it is meant to be played," Rosenhaus said. "He plays with a lot of passion, emotion and enthusiasm. Why anyone would have a problem with that, I don't know. I tell him not to change a thing."

But the ice-cup incident and the comments on Stern left a really bitter taste in a lot of mouths. Sure, fans will strain their voices chiding Shockey on the road. But would there be a veteran player out there who might go headhunting for a player who some believe is showing too much emotion on the field?

"I don't know if there are (players who would take a shot at me)," Shockey said. "If someone really said something bad to me, and it really did offend me, and I saw the chance to cheap shot them, I am going to cheap shot them. I am sure they go about it the same way."

And we'll be there when it happens, listening, watching and waiting for more along the long ride back to Canton.

Eric Edholm is an associate editor for Pro Football Weekly.

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