Orlando is known as "The City Beautiful,'' but some of its neighborhoods aren't featured in the glitzy travel brochures.

USF nickel back Daquan Evans is from one of those places — the Parramore District, a once thriving historically Black community that lost its identity when the construction of Interstate 4 barreled through its heart and soul, accentuating the segregation and leaving behind a place now associated with crime, poverty and economic hardship.

"The projects, the hood, call it what you want … but that was where I grew up,'' said Evans, 22. "I spent a lot of years just hanging around, doing stuff I shouldn't have been doing. But that was all I knew. That was my environment.

"I could've very easily been dead or in jail. I could've very easily been a statistic.''

Instead, thanks to some family members, friends and coaches who set him straight — and his own sensibilities that had him seeking a better life — the man they call "Dae Dae'' is being celebrated for his football statistics.

And that's a very positive development as the Bulls (1-2) prepare for Saturday's American Athletic Conference opener against the Rice Owls (2-1) at Raymond James Stadium.

Evans (5-foot-11, 190 pounds) is the AAC Defensive Player of the Week — the first time that honor was bestowed upon a USF defender in nearly six years — along with the Nagurski National Defensive Player of the Week.

Against the No. 10-ranked Alabama Crimson Tide, before an ABC-TV national audience, Evans was stunningly disruptive with eight tackles, four tackles for a loss, three sacks, one pass breakup and a quarterback hurry.

"Dae Dae is like a linebacker and safety wrapped up together,'' linebacker Jhalyn Shuler said. "He's strong just like us (at linebacker) and he's fast just like the back end. You put that together coming off the edge and it's hard to stop.''

"We came to USF together (in 2019) and I know what Dae Dae can do because I see it in practice every day, but it's very exciting to see it in the games,'' safety Logan Berryhill said. "He has always been fighting something, whether it's injuries or other stuff, so to actually see him go out there and release that energy and fly around the field, it's so great for all of us.''

Evans wore No. 10 as a true freshman but requested a switch to No. 0 because "when I'm on that field, I've got nothing on my mind … nothing except complete focus and staying locked in.''

His story is fascinating but he has mostly kept it to himself. Few people have even asked because when Evans sets his jaw and flashes an expressionless glare, he seems unapproachable. But once you understand how he values loyalty and respect, once you crack through that facade, he's an open book.

"I'm not a bad guy,'' Evans said. "I'm really a loner. I just don't have a lot of people who I trust. Where I come from, there's not a lot of trust.''

Evans was 15, a sophomore at Orlando Jones High School, when he became a father. He was confused and unsure about those responsibilities. But now he's never happier than the days he spends with his son, 6-year-old Da'Mani, and he has a cordial co-parenting relationship with the child's mother.

On the day of his high-school graduation, he lost the most important person in his life, his mother, Sharicka Collins. Evans wouldn't specify the nature of his mother's illness, but said her death came quickly and unexpectedly. He showed up that night at the Amway Center to walk across a stage and receive his diploma because "that's what she would've wanted,'' but his heart was shattered. Evans never had a meaningful relationship with his father.

After four years at USF — all losing seasons — Evans expected to be on the move. In 2022, an adductor muscle injury limited him to five games and he was never completely healthy. He already had earned his bachelor's degree in finance. The transfer portal beckoned. He thought he needed a fresh start.

But during an official visit to a freezing Midwestern outpost, he called back to USF coach Alex Golesh. For maybe the first time in his life, Evans was convinced about the right path.

He wanted to come home.

Choosing The Right Path

Evans said he used to "live two lives.'' He made good grades. But he was always on the brink of trouble. He had friends who went to jail. Others died after gun violence. Some got mixed up in drugs.

"It's actually pretty easy for some kids to go the gangster route,'' Evans said. "People just can't imagine the kind of stuff that goes on sometimes. Back when I was around it, doing all kind of street stuff, my (older) brother sat me down. He said, 'You can't be doing this. It's going to cost you. You got a future. You need to play some ball.' And I heard that.''

Then Evans arrived at Jones High School, where "my whole demeanor just shifted.'' The head coach was Elijah Williams, the former University of Florida running back and NFL player.

"Coach Elijah just told me, 'If you want to play for me, you've got to do this, this and this,' '' Evans said. "He gave me the blueprint. He showed me how to work on and off the field. He taught me how to treat people. I started to learn more about life and how many fake people there really are. You can actually be nice to people and you should. But you've got to be aware.''

Evans was recruited to USF by Coach Charlie Strong, who taught him about parental responsibility. Life wasn't just about Dae Dae. Not any longer. Not with a young son who was counting on him. Coach Jeff Scott had the same message.

"I feel like I came to USF a kid and I became a grown man,'' Evans said. "But after last year, I felt like I had done all I could at USF and wanted a fresh start at a new place. Then the longer I thought about it, I didn't want to leave what I had started. And maybe I could get that fresh start with the new coaching staff.''

Evans was intrigued by the personal story of Golesh, who had basically nothing when arriving in America with his immigrant parents, then worked his way up the coaching ladder. And Golesh was equally intrigued by Evans' potential.

They hit it off — in a big way.

"There's no fakeness to that man,'' Evans said. "He's genuine. He's authentic. He's my coach.''

Evans is Golesh's kind of player.

"I think Dae Dae was honestly yearning for somebody to trust him and pour into him,'' Golesh said. "I don't know what happened before — and I really don't care. But since the day I got here and sat down with Dae Dae, I was like, 'Man, this is my kind of dude.' He's exactly what you want.

"He has a million reasons, a million excuses, why he shouldn't be successful. All he does is spend all day here, working extremely hard, learning how to hold his teammates accountable. Now he has this crazy confidence. He puts the work in, then it shows on the field.''

Defensive coordinator Todd Orlando moved Evans from cornerback to nickel back, a decision the player initially didn't understand or fully endorse. But he played along and now the benefits are obvious.

"Dae Dae is super intelligent … I mean, football-wise, he's like a coach,'' Orlando said. "He's explosive. Somebody that tough, with that kind of burst and quickness, with that kind of intelligence, you can do a lot of things with them.

"It's important to understand what you have with your players and not to try to stuff a package on people who don't have the right skill-set. Dae Dae is really good at coming off the edge, getting underneath, going over the top. So, we put him in positions where he'll have success.''

Evans is an effective blitzer. So, he blitzes. He plays closer to the ball, allowing his instincts to take over. He can run, hit and cover. Golesh, who believes that dedication to the process leads to favorable outcomes, said Evans does all the little things, including weight-room work, proper sleep and the right diet.

"All Dae Dae does is come to work every day and make everybody around him better,'' Golesh said.

Then Golesh bestowed what has become his highest compliment.

"He's another tough-ass dude,'' Golesh said.

Tough Enough For Life

The way Evans sees it, you can't emerge from the Parramore District with a soft attitude.

"I had some homeboys who lost their lives early and some of us had our fathers in jail,'' Evans said. "That stuff was just common. You walk out of your house and you don't know what you might see and what you might get mixed up in. I'm blessed I got away from that.

"I never took anything for granted. It's all mindset, a tough mindset. I carry myself a certain way. Some people might be scared to talk to me because my face is so straight and serious. I'm not trying to be mean. It's just kind of the way I have to be. You learn that growing up in my neighborhood. You kind of have to be a certain way to survive.''

But through the craziness, there were always the lights from the Florida Citrus Bowl (now known as Camping World Stadium) down the street. In a way, they represented the road out. He heard the cheering crowds at high-school state championship games and dreamed about being part of it.

At every level, Evans knew only one way to play. That has always earned him respect from coaches and teammates.

"There are different kinds of tough,'' Orlando said. "There are guys who are perceived as tough, but they're really frauds. You know, fake tough. And there are guys who always act tough, but they're really not.

"I think this kid (Evans) is a good human being. Between the lines, he's probably playing the same way he played at age 5 because he was taught that way. There's always physical toughness. But he's mentally tough. Some guys give up one bad play and it affects them the whole game. Dae Dae will keep coming at you. He won't get rattled. He's an older guy with a lot of life experience. That shows up with the way he plays.''

Evans describes it simply.

"I play with aggression,'' he said. "But off the field, I have learned how to treat people right. I think I have an interesting story and I think it can impact others. I've learned that if you smile and help people, you can brighten up the room. I do have a softer side.''

It comes out around his son.

"I can't deny him because he looks just like me,'' Evans said, his voice brightening. "It's so funny to have that, a little man with so much ahead of him. It makes me want to work even harder.''

Da'Mani is a big fan of bounce houses. He's non-stop energy when showing off his back flips. He likes hamburgers and pizza. And in his mind, No. 0 for USF is the best football player ever.

"I want him to have a great childhood and not worry about a thing,'' Evans said. "I'm not going to force sports on him. Whatever he chooses to do, I'm going to support him as a parent. I want him to be safe. He doesn't have to be in a rush. He's got it all in front of him.''

For Evans, the clock is ticking on his college-football career.

"It's starting to hit me, my last go-round,'' Evans said. "We want to bring some history here, bring back that USF culture. I'm glad I stayed here so I could help the alma mater. Now we got to finish the job. We got to win some games.''

Evans, dedicated to the memory of his late mother and inspired by the potential of his son, provides an example for his teammates every day. He emerged from a troubled past. Now it's all about a bright future.

"If we had 25 Dae Dae's, we'd be rocking and rolling at a pretty high clip,'' Golesh said.

"You could ask anybody on our team — defense or offense — and they'll tell you how happy they are to see Dae Dae doing all of this,'' Berryhill said. "His time is right now.''

-#GoBulls–