Chiefs RB coach Deland McCullough strives to be the dad he thought he never had

OVERLAND PARK, KAN. — The Friday night lights illuminated the football field at the Blue Valley District Athletic Complex, and as two high school teams paced their sidelines preparing for kickoff, Deland McCullough, the Kansas City Chiefs’ running backs coach, settled into his seat.

It had been a busy week. The day before, the Chiefs had signed another running back for McCullough to work with. Le’Veon Bell, McCullough knew, would bring another element to the job McCullough relishes, a job that fulfills a purpose of mentorship that seeps through so much else. In preparation for what was to come, McCullough pored through film cut-ups. But he wasn’t thinking about that as he sat on a cold metal bleacher near the 20-yard-line.

As the Blue Valley North players trotted onto the field, McCullough was instead thinking about two young men who fulfill his foremost purpose: his sons Daeh and Dasan.

On that mid-October night, McCullough tracked them closely, his eyes following their every move. Daeh McCullough, a sophomore cornerback, darted into the backfield for a tackle. His dad filed the play away in his memory bank for later. Later in the game, Dasan McCullough, a junior who plays receiver on offense and a hybrid linebacker/safety on defense, leapt for a touchdown grab in the left corner of the end zone. After the catch, Dasan lifted himself off the ground and looked up at his dad. Deland peered down, the pride seeping through his smile.

After the game, a loss on this particular night, the family sat in its kitchen as Deland recalled certain plays, asked his sons what they were thinking during others then talked through the emotions he once felt as a player himself. McCullough makes this a point each Friday night, not only to watch his sons intently but also guide them afterward in a way he had not been guided as a youth. And in these moments, win or lose, his wife, Darnell, sits and watches and listens, knowing how much these moments mean to her husband.

“It’s his thing,” she said.

Dasan McCullough is a two-way player. (Courtesy of Adam Murray Photography)

The reason Deland McCullough makes it a point to be so involved in his sons’ athletic endeavors is the same reason he keeps going over the kids’ Christmas lists with his wife.

He is present in a way his own father was not, present in a way he has always longed to be.

He’s like this, those close to him understand, because of his backstory, which ESPN’s Sarah Spain chronicled beautifully in the fall of 2018. The tale — “I wouldn’t believe it either if I wasn’t living it,” Darnell said — began at birth.

Our story of the year (for real, it’s amazing).

Be sure to catch Identity: The Deland McCullough Story (@coachdmc) tonight at 5:30pm ET on ESPN2. pic.twitter.com/ShbUZVuRHG

— E60 (@E60) November 13, 2018

In January 1973, Deland, then six months old and named Jon Kenneth Briggs, was adopted by Adelle Comer and A.C. McCullough of Youngstown, Ohio. A couple of years later A.C. moved out of the house, foreshadowing an upbringing that wasn’t easy.

But McCullough found solace on the football field.

Spectacular performances in high school beneath the Friday night lights led to an introduction from a man named Sherman Smith, who recruited McCullough to play college football at Miami (Ohio). Smith was the school’s running backs coach and a former player himself from the same area, so McCullough related to him, gravitated toward him. He accepted the scholarship offer and, four years later, set the school’s rushing record, leading to a stint in the Canadian Football League and calls from NFL teams such as the Cincinnati Bengals before he married Darnell and started a family.

Shaped by his upbringing, and the absence of his biological and adoptive fathers, McCullough chose not to dive headfirst into the college coaching ranks. Instead, he taught and coached at Harmony Community School, a charter school in Cincinnati, hoping to make an impact on underprivileged youth. Away from the classroom, he spent his days around his sons, seeing them walk and talk then start to play football themselves.

In 2010, more than a decade after his playing career ended, McCullough accepted a job as a special teams intern with the Miami (Ohio) football team. His oldest son, Deland McCullough Jr., was a fourth-grader at the time. And just like his dad, he loved getting the ball and darting through the tackles, finding a gap of space and hurtling his body toward the open grass ahead.

The youth-league team Deland Jr. played for was the Reading Blue Devils, and the games were serious. Parents stood on the sidelines. Helmets clashed against pads, and jerseys got stained quickly. Little Deland thrived as a running back, but his team wasn’t very good. Not to mention, the team’s coach, at least from Darnell McCullough’s recollection, completely botched his tone with the kids.

The next year, the same year Big Deland was promoted to become Miami’s running backs coach, Little Deland, then a fifth-grader, arrived at the preseason weigh-in, focused on starting the season strong. Something happened as they stood in line waiting that day, as Darnell remembers it, because a shouting match ensured. Darnell hadn’t seen her husband act that way before — and she hasn’t seen him act that way since — but he was upset with something that had been said or the tone the coach had said it in front of so many kids, and he wasn’t going to let it slide.

Once Deland calmed down and evaluated what had happened, he knew he had to do something, telling Darnell: “I can’t act like I know all the problems but can’t be part of the solution. So I’m going to coach.” To him, it was a lesson to teach his kids, that actions speak louder than words. He learned this from his adoptive mother, Adelle, who stressed hard work and showcased it, bouncing between jobs while also shuttling McCullough to practices. He’d also learned it from Sherman Smith.

When Smith first pulled up to Campbell (Ohio) Memorial High School in his candy apple red Mercedes-Benz and called Deland to the school’s office to recruit him, he was struck by McCullough’s seriousness.

“He had a maturity about him — something,” Smith said. “The way he carried himself, you knew this guy was going to be different.”

Sherman Smith (middle) stands as Deland McCullough (right) signs his national letter of intent to attend Miami (Ohio). (Courtesy of Smith)

As for Deland Jr.’s youth-league football team, those fifth-grade Reading Blue Devils smashed their way to the league’s championship game, a day none of the McCulloughs remember other than the bone-chilling weather the team played in. Father and his oldest son won the game. Deland Jr. had again been the running back for the team, and as much as he enjoyed both the victory and his dad’s continued pointers, one thing was clear.

“That was my last time being a running back,” Deland Jr. said, laughing.

In 2011, a year after the youth-league championship, Deland McCullough was offered another job. Indiana University needed a running backs coach, and coach Kevin Wilson had called while Deland was having lunch at a Frisch’s Big Boy outside of Oxford, Ohio. When McCullough hung up his phone and told Darnell the situation, she asked, “Well, when does he need to know?”

Deland sat in silence for a moment.

“In a few minutes,” he said.

This is how the coaching profession works; one call can alter the course of a family’s life. Deland knew this, and he also knew how driven he’d be when he began coaching because that drive had so often existed. College teammate and fellow running back Ty King would continuously watch as Deland went above and beyond. Both were smaller, and coaches wanted to see them bulk up. They’d go to the dining hall and Deland would eat two or three plates of pasta.

“Every time,” King said, laughing. “He was gonna do it.”

Another teammate, Eric Beverly, who was a year younger, noticed how committed McCullough was right away. Beverly would hear about McCullough’s goals on the field and off — McCullough’s day-to-day work matched those goals — and Beverly would tease his teammate about his serious demeanor.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Beverly said, “he would joke around with the best of them. But he was a straight-laced guy who was focused.”

Inside the restaurant, thinking about the opportunity that had just presented itself, McCullough accepted the job. The family moved to Bloomington, Ind., setting the stage for some of Deland’s second son, Dasan’s, favorite memories. He would run around the facility with the sons and daughters of the other coaches’ kids. He would watch future NFL players, such as running backs Tevin Coleman and Jordan Howard, hurdle obstacles, lift weights and play well on Saturdays. He was learning and growing, darting in between the tackles himself just like his older brother and his dad before him, thinking about the advice his dad gave him: “If you’re going to play ball, let’s play it at the highest level possible.”

By 2017, after Deland McCullough had been hired as USC’s running backs coach, his third son, Daeh, was playing quarterback. He was young, so the offers weren’t coming yet the way they were for Deland Jr., who had developed into a cornerback, and Dasan, whose lanky frame also led to him having defensive responsibilites.

Although his position was different, Daeh watched his older brothers. He filed away how they worked. How they carried themselves. How they led on and off the field. And this is exactly how their father wanted it, attempting to set his own example throughout their upbringing.

You never know who is watching or what a person might learn from what they see. Sherman Smith learned this when he first became a coach, participating in internships with the Buffalo Bills and the Seattle Seahawks. Coaches hadn’t given him much say or opportunity, which he filed away for the future.

In 2014, McCullough was offered a coaching internship with the Seahawks, working with their running backs coach, who, ironically enough, was Smith. In thinking about what he could do for McCullough, Smith kept coming back to one thought: “I’m not going to let what happened to me happen to him. I was going to let him coach.”

Initially, McCullough did not know the Seahawks’ offense, so rather than assigning McCullough to do the install, Smith let McCullough lead an individual drill period on the practice field each day. Running backs such as Marshawn Lynch would listen as McCullough directed them to their spots, and Smith would watch his former pupil command their attention. Later in the day, during position meetings when the group watched film, Smith would pinpoint a move and ask Deland in front of the room: “What do you think about this?”

“I wanted him to take ownership,” Smith said. “And I wanted those guys to respect him for his coaching ability. And they did.”

Incredible RB Drill from former USC and current Kansas City Chiefs RB Coach Deland McCullough

1️⃣Read Coach for initial cut 📚
2️⃣Spin off the can 🗑
3️⃣Explode into the open field 💥

Make practice more like the game! pic.twitter.com/wxvvmHNv97

— Coach Dan Casey (@CoachDanCasey) May 30, 2018

The opportunity paved a path to USC, where in 2017 McCullough became the Trojans’ running backs coach. Around this time, seeing his sons continue to grow into the men he hoped they would become, McCullough grew curious about the identities of his biological parents. Through open records, he found his birth mother, Carol Denise Briggs, and messaged her on Facebook. She called, and after a lengthy and emotional conversation, he asked her who his biological dad was.

It was November 2017, and once McCullough hung up the phone, he spotted his wife and boys, who had been seated at a rectangular table inside the Galen dining center at USC. He snaked around the other families, sat down at the table then looked at his wife, Darnell, the way you look at someone when something is urgent.

“I asked her, ‘So who’s my father?’” Deland told Darnell at the table.

“Did she know?” Darnell asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “You won’t believe it.”

Her heart dropped and her mind raced, flipping through memories of the past. He then told her his biological father was Sherman Smith, and she screamed, realizing the father figure he’d always wanted — and a man who had inspired the way he parented their sons — had been there all along.

Which leads us back to the give-it-your-all mindset: In the spring of 2018, McCullough was hired to be the running backs coach for the Kansas City Chiefs. Once the family moved to Overland Park, Daeh watched as his older brothers meshed with new high school friends and teammates at Blue Valley North.

Daeh watched as Deland Jr. overcame labrum and meniscus injuries and accepted a scholarship offer to play cornerback at Miami (Ohio). Daeh watched as Dasan, who had grown to 6-foot-4, embraced his leadership role. In 2019, Dasan committed to play outside linebacker for Ohio State. Meanwhile, Daeh started to field offers himself. Another McCullough, thriving off the examples that had been set.

From left to right, Daeh McCullough, Dasan McCullough, Deland McCullough, Deland McCullough Jr., Sherman Smith and Sherman Smith Jr. (Courtesy of Smith).

Growing up in Youngstown, Sherman Smith would sit on his grandmother’s porch. Together, they’d watch cars drive by and play a game, calling out the rides they’d love to have. After his playing days, once he got into coaching and arrived at a position where he could purchase one of his own, he jumped at the opportunity.

Hence, the candy apple red Mercedes-Benz McCullough noticed the day they first met.

As McCullough became a college coach, he, too, became a car enthusiast. As much as McCullough may have looked or sounded like Smith — “that’s your dad,” teammates such as Ty King joked in college — a clue to their genetic link may have resided most obviously in the joy they had in buying new vehicles.

Smith learned about that joy in the months after McCullough had told him they were father and son. But as Spain wrote in her ESPN article, Smith’s first reaction was shock. McCullough’s biological mother had never told his biological father of the pregnancy. Smith had built his life around a strong sense of personal responsibility, and he felt guilty about the pain he believed he’d unintentionally caused McCullough by his absence. McCullough, though, urged Smith to let it go, saying, “Hey, you were in my life.” That reaction has allowed Smith himself to embrace it all.

A couple of months ago, McCullough was on the phone with Smith, complaining about Deland Jr. wanting another car after he had already purchased him one.

“I wonder where he got that from?” Smith said, laughing. “Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?”

These days, Smith finds joy in hearing about his grandkids’ progressions. About how Deland Jr. not only spoke about altering his diet, hoping to contribute to the RedHawks, but has started to eat more vegetables. About how Dasan has created a bond with Chiefs star safety Tyrann Mathieu because he wants to take another step. About how Daeh is improving almost daily and earning a number of offers in the process. And then there’s four-year-old Diem, who will have a full family of football minds to look up to.

“It’s beautiful,” Smith said. “Their dad is their biggest fan.”

Over the years, friends have asked Darnell McCullough whether she wanted a daughter or not. Her answer is always no.

“I felt like God gave us all these boys because they’d be the ones to carry his name,” Darnell said. “Like, this was the beginning of his tree. Of his starting. Of his roots. Since he didn’t know who his biological parents were, I think he takes such pride in knowing that.”

That pride persists in his presence on Friday nights. They may not say it as often as they should — if anything, they’ve been taught to show it by someone who always has — but the McCullough boys are appreciative that their father shows up, regardless of how big the Chiefs’ game is that weekend or how much work he may have. Beyond Diem, McCullough’s sons will soon be out of the house and at college themselves. Their dad will continue to watch them, whether it’s on television or in person.

He’ll continue to file the plays away, provide feedback and continue to share his experiences, hoping they’ll one day have the same opportunity, and an example to lean on.

Chiefs reporter Nate Taylor contributed to this story.

(Top photo of the McCullough family, from left to right: Daeh, Dasan, Deland and Diem, Darnell and Deland Jr.: Courtesy of Darnell McCullough)

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