Von Miller is the superstar the NFL needs

The NFL has seen brighter days, it seems every morning the league is getting bad press. It’s Peyton Manning involved in a sexual assault lawsuit, it’s Ray Rice knocking his girlfriend out in an elevator, it’s another player testing positive for CTE, it’s Cam Newton being too brash for many fans. Whatever it is, it seems “The Shield” is as vulnerable as ever.

In the darkness, though, shines (really shines) a bright light. I’m not sure if they deserve him, but a once-skinny nerd (let me clarify, once-skinny, still a nerd) from DeSoto, Texas, may be the hero the NFL needs.

On Super Bowl Sunday, football fans all around the world were ready for a man who is unapologetically himself to catapult himself into superstardom, cement himself as one of the greats in the league, become the face of a new era — they got exactly that. Thing is, it wasn’t the man they were expecting. No, it was the man ripping the ball away from him, making his life a living hell. The world was about to meet their new favorite player, Von Miller.

He’s as unique as his middle name, he’s Vonnie B’Vsean Miller to the fullest extent. He’s thousand dollar shiny jackets made of french metallic opalescent cloque, he’s $3,200 shiny Louboutins on his feet, he’s nerdy glasses, he calls them “frames,” it sounds cool, they didn’t use to be cool. He’s dancing like a goofball on Snapchat at NBA All-Star weekend, fans chanting “MVP” in the background. Actually, he’s dancing like a goofball everywhere.

From the floor at All-Star to the set of SNL back to the floor in Toronto to the Stage at the Grammys. He’s on the Today Show, he’s on Ellen, he’s doing commercials for Esquire, he’s on every ESPN program you can fathom, he’s living the life of “VMVP” but everywhere he goes he’s still just Vonnie.

Whether or not the world was ready for all that is Von Miller, they’ve got him now and they’re liking what they see. I mean what’s not to like?

Well, let’s be clear, Von isn’t perfect. In 2013, he was one of those players making the wrong headlines, he tested positive for marijuana for the second time, it resulted in a six-game suspension, putting him in stage three of the NFL’s drug intervention program, another violation and he would face another one year suspension.

“Is marijuana a part of your life?” 104.3 The Fan’s Darren “D-Mac” McKee famously asked at the time.

“Absolutely not,” Miller shot back.

“I’ve just got to grow up, be more mature and take care of business,” he said later.

“He’s come so far from, ‘Is marijuana a part of your life?'” McKee told me with a proud smile outside of a Super Bowl media tent.

He really has. In August of this year, Miller was released from the drug program after two consecutive years of clean tests. Was it a slight stain on the resume? Sure, but it really just adds into Miller being perfect for the NFL right now. Von Miller is now the poster child for that program, “From Stage Three to SB MVP,” it’ll say on some slideshow being shown to a rookie who lit one up with his friends on draft night.

That’s not the extent of the value of Von Miller’s stardom, though, that lies with the kids.

Today, in some small town in Texas, a parent juggles the decision of whether or not to let their son play football, a decision that is ending up on the “Not” side of things more and more often in this country. As their kid dances like a goofball in the background, taking a selfie video on Snapchat, that parent opens up Von Miller’s Player’s tribune piece. They read about the lifetime friendships he made, the special bond built with his mother when she finally decided to let him play, the life lessons, the opportunities opened up by football. “Maybe we’ll let him give it a try,” the parent thinks.

In Colorado, a kid is finally home from school after another day of being called “four-eyes,” he pauses his “Planet Earth” DVD when “A brief history of me being a nerd,” comes across his facebook feed, that’s the guy everybody’s been talking about at school. As he reads more about the hero of his classmates, he realizes that football may be his escape. He takes off his thick glasses and looks at down at them with blurry eyes, “My frames,” he says with a smile.

What better role model for the kids? He’s unapologetically himself but, heck, he doesn’t have much to apologize for. Behind the expensive, eccentric suits and the diamonds, he’s about as blue-collar as they come. He literally has a chicken farm, although he’ll admit they’re just pets to him at this point, “They’re living the life.”

He’s perfect for the league because he’s got it all. He’s smart, he talented, he’s funny, he’s great with the media. He’s everything a young fan loves — the dancing, the social media — while simultaneously being everything the older fan loves — the class, the hard working attitude.

He’s small-town, he’s loyal —mentioning his college every chance he gets, “Gig ’em,” — he’s nerdy, he’s cool, he’s the best pass-rusher in the NFL.

He’s the message that “different” is okay, he’s the NFL’s consummate teammate (he invites the long-snapper over to play poker), he’s all smiles all the time when he hits the podium, “The Shield” on the backdrop behind him, he gives Roger Goodell a big, warm hug as he accepts the Super Bowl MVP trophy.

He’s, “Roosters are dope,” he’s, “I love NatGeo.” He’s so weird but he’s so new, so fresh.

On Super Bowl media night, I made sure to get over to Cam Newton’s podium to snap a picture. “Coolest dude in the league,” I captioned it. Nah, I was wrong, that title belongs to Vonnie B’Vsean Miller, he’s the next face of the NFL.