Bull In The Spotlight: Timmy McClain
By Joey Johnston
He throws darts, tight spirals that are catchable and almost always on target. He doesn't run, he glides. It seems almost effortless. He makes defenders look like they are in quicksand. Then he shifts into full-burst mode, especially if the first-down marker is within sight.
USF true freshman quarterback Timmy McClain, approaching the fifth game of his college career, will start for the third consecutive week Saturday afternoon when the Bulls (1-3) travel to face the SMU Mustangs (4-0) in Dallas. It's tempting to take that small sample size and get carried away with hyperbole, assigning superhuman qualities to the kid who already has provided so much real-time hope — and so much excitement for the future.
But when you talk to people who know him best — his parents, his little-league and high-school coaches, his longtime teammates — it becomes apparent that McClain's debut has been nothing new.
"The Timmy you're seeing now is the same Timmy at age 10,'' said former NFL linebacker Anthony Fieldings, who coached McClain with the Apopka Raptors, a youth-league powerhouse. "USF folks need to buckle up and enjoy this ride. He does things that are uncommon.''
Exasperated BYU coach Kalani Sitake found that out last Saturday, when McClain engineered three long second-half touchdown drives, making the No. 15-ranked Cougars sweat, before the Bulls finally fell short, 35-27. But the point — and points — had been made. Even in the noisy din of LaVell Edwards Stadium, even when facing a fourth-and-goal while driving into the hyperactive student section and the BYU marching band, McClain was not bothered. Like always, he was there to do a job.
"I can't believe he's a young freshman,'' Sitake said afterward. "He can escape. He can run. I felt like we couldn't keep him contained.''
Yet McClain's best quality isn't his quick feet. It's not his rocket arm.
It's his mind and Gandhi-like composure. It's his preparation.
After McClain graduated from high school last December so he could enter USF early, Bulls offensive coordinator Charlie Weis Jr. held a quarterback position meeting one day before the initial spring practice. McClain showed up with 100 notecards, where he had methodically written down each play, along with the progressions and protection calls.
"I had never seen that before,'' Weis said. "And as we're talking through the plays, he was taking down notes on his notecards. He knew exactly what he should be doing. Normally, you have to teach these guys how to take notes. He was on it.
"I mean, he should be going to his prom. But in the spring, he's fully immersed in what we're doing. It's that important to him. He's like that quiet student. You wonder if he's hearing you. He knows exactly what he's doing. He just takes it in with that stone cold face. He has special, unusual qualities.''
And it starts with his approach.
"I'm a calm guy,'' said McClain, 19, a 6-foot-1, 196-pound left-hander. "I don't let things get to me. I don't want them to know what I'm thinking. Football is an emotional game and I have emotions like anybody else.
"Sometimes, people say I'm too nonchalant, like I don't care. Believe me, I do care. I care a whole lot. I just don't let the emotions show.''
That goes beyond the football field.
"He reminds me of my father (Robert Moore, Timmy's grandfather),'' said McClain's mother, Marcheal. "He's patient and placid. When he gets excited, you might see a little smirk, but that's about it. He'll speak, but only after thinking long and hard about it. He doesn't react quickly to anything.''
For USF coach Jeff Scott, McClain's demeanor reminds him of Deshaun Watson's quiet leadership at Clemson. The cool-headed Watson didn't speak often. But when he did, everyone stopped to listen.
"He's always thinking, always looking for a winning edge, but it's sometimes tough to get a word out of him," said McClain's father, also named Timmy McClain, who is a criminal defense attorney in Orlando.
"I think he's got an old spirit living inside him. He's an old soul. He's like a guy who already has lived a long time and has that wisdom. It's hard for me to describe it because I've seen it his whole life.''
The recruitment
McClain took the Apopka Raptors to three youth-football national championships. He started every game for four seasons at Sanford Seminole High School, losing just four games overall, and leading the Seminoles to a storybook Class 8A state title in 2020 to complete a 12-0 season.
"He might be young, but Timmy McClain has played a lot of big-time ball and he has won a bunch of games,'' said USF freshman wide receiver Jimmy Horn Jr., who was McClain's high-school teammate.
Near the end of his junior high school season, McClain nearly committed to Boston College. But Coach Steve Addazio was fired on Dec. 1, 2019, so the search continued. McClain's focus shifted to West Virginia, maybe Virginia Tech, as the 2020 offseason began.
About that time, newly hired USF coach Jeff Scott and Weis were crafting a plan. They had a few veterans on the roster, but USF needed an up-and-coming quarterback. The possibilities were narrowed to two or three Florida-based players. McClain looked like the best passer — by far.
Weis was dispatched to Sanford, where USF offensive-line coach Allen Mogridge already had a solid relationship with the Seminole High coaching staff, located in his Central Florida recruiting territory. Weis had some initial questions.
"First, you want to know about the kid, is he a leader, is he a captain? And it was definitely yes,'' Weis said. "Does he love football? Absolutely. Can he learn the playbook and do what we need him to do? Absolutely.
"Everywhere you looked, it was evident that Timmy was a star at that school, a great player, a stellar guy. So yeah, it became clear pretty quick that he was the guy we were targeting.''
McClain and his father attended USF's Junior Day on campus, where everyone seemed nice. But no special treatment was given and McClain's father wasn't sure if there was sincere interest.
Then everything changed. COVID hit. College sports shut down. The recruiting rhythm was altered. When other schools backed away, gathering their plan in an uncertain time, Scott set up a virtual home visit with McClain and his family.
"It was a full-court press like you wouldn't believe,'' McClain's father said. "They knew what they wanted, but they weren't showing their hand before. They had a great vision for USF football and the whole institution. Timmy was their guy. That night, we listed the pros and cons of everything. It was obvious. USF was the place.
"From a football standpoint, it was in Florida. Timmy had a chance to play right away. Great school. We could go to the games easily. We all had a great feeling about Jeff Scott. He would call sometimes and we wouldn't even talk football. We talked about our families. As a father — and his mother felt the same way — we felt at ease.''
McClain, whose live throwing was never witnessed by USF coaches prior to the scholarship offer, didn't make his recruiting process into a show. His word was his word. He called every coach that had recruited him to say thanks for the interest, but he was going to USF.
His senior year hit dramatic overdrive. Following the death of teammate Zi'Erric Wynn in a car accident, the Seminoles found a purpose. They were going to win it all for their fallen brother. But in the state semifinals against fierce rival Apopka, they were down big in the first half to the program that had twice eliminated them in McClain's career.
The second half was a Disney movie. McClain, playing against many friends and former youth-football teammates, willed his squad to a riveting come-from-behind victory as Seminole defeated Apopka 28-24, surging ahead on his 58-yard touchdown run with 3:47 to play. The next week, following an anti-climactic 38-10 victory against Kissimmee Osceola in the 8A final, Seminoles players placed a state-championship medal and the Orlando Sentinel sports section on Wynn's grave.
It was a brilliant final act for McClain and Horn — better known around Sanford as "Touchdown Timmy and Dancin' Jimmy.''
"The season and losing Zi'Erric was hard on all of us,'' McClain said. "It showed me that when adversity hits, you find out a lot about yourself and the people around you. When everybody comes together, when you don't care who gets the credit, you can do great things.''
The future
For McClain, the future possibilities are intriguing. He has lifted teams on his shoulders before. His statistics are impressive, but to him, the only numbers that matter are the victories.
"He quit on me once,'' said McClain's father, who played quarterback at Livingstone College. "His first (youth-football) team. He took off the pads and went with his mom under the tent. I wasn't going to have a quitter. I was furious driving home.
"He looked at me and said, 'Then take me somewhere where they're serious about it.' That stopped me in my tracks.''
That's when McClain's father knew it wasn't just a game. It was cute when McClain first picked up a plastic football at age 7 and began delivering left-handed tight spirals in rapid-fire fashion, so much so that everybody had to stop and watch. But even at an early age, McClain was driven. The Raptors set him up for high school.
After investigating some options — Apopka, Orlando Oak Ridge and Lake Highland Prep — McClain told his parents he wanted to attend his zoned hometown high school, Sanford Seminole. McClain showed up unannounced one day as the Seminole coaches were leaving for the day. When he threw a few deep post patterns, warming up with friends, the coaches put down their briefcases and came back. A few weeks later, McClain was named the freshman starter.
"At every level so far, you see that he's destined for greatness,'' Fieldings said. "He doesn't jump around when things are going good. He doesn't mope when things are going bad. He never acts like he's a big deal. He's easy to love. That's our Q.''
Q?
Ah yes, Q. That's how everyone knows McClain. It's not Timmy. It's Q.
He was born Timmy Jahqueal McClain. Jahqueal (pronounced Jah-qwell) is a created name — a combination of Jacquez Green, the former Florida Gator and Tampa Bay Bucs receiver, and his mother's name, Marcheal.
McClain's grandmother didn't want to confuse the two Timmy's — the son and the father — so she called the young one Jahqueal. When McClain began youth football, his coaches and teammates struggled to pronounce Jahqueal. "We're just going to call you Q,'' one of the coaches said. That was that. It stuck.
He's Quiet. He's Quick. He's even Quaint. And, of course, he's the Quintessential Quarterback, a homebody who's happiest studying film, diving into the playbook and even checking out YouTube videos of Green Bay Packer Hall of Fame quarterback Bart Starr, who retired from the NFL three decades before McClain's birth.
Talk about a football nerd. McClain isn't averse to checking out the old-school black-and-white highlights if it means studying someone's accuracy and patterns, something he might incorporate into his game.
For the modern-day fan, such as Horn, there are other comparisons.
"To me, Q is like a Lamar Jackson who can actually throw,'' Horn said. "Sometimes, he plays like Russell Wilson. I guess you have to put him up with Michael Vick, too. There's a couple of nice left-handers.''
McClain won't get drawn into the comparisons. How could he? He's preparing for a game and such talk is an unnecessary distraction.
"Michael Vick … I've heard that before,'' McClain said. "I'm familiar with him. I know Mike Vick. But I'm pretty sure he doesn't know me.''
Not yet at least. Give it some time. McClain is only starting out. His USF ride has just begun. And as McClain's former coaches suggest, it's going to be something to enjoy.
