Following his fall at Georgia, Michael Lemon is trying to learn how to pick himself back up

Following his fall at Georgia, Michael Lemon is trying to learn how to pick himself back up
It's called the bull ring.
When Michael Lemon arrived at Georgia Military College in Milledgeville this fall, it was talked about the way small children discuss the boogeyman. Do what you're told, his teammates said, or find yourself in the bull ring.
Lemon never thought a lack of discipline was his problem. He had always been the good kid, a beaming smile etched across his face serving as a constant reminder that he was just a big-hearted kid, who also happened to torment quarterbacks whenever he stepped on to a football field.
The past few months, however, had changed him. In his adopted hometown of Athens, the former Georgia Bulldogs player's name became synonymous with trouble, and his punishments were far worse than the bull ring.
Still, the mere sound of the exercise was enough keep him on his toes. Getting "bull ringed," his new teammates told him on one of his first days at GMC, meant spending hours in uniform marching up and down hills, looping the campus over and over until the commanding officer felt a lesson had been properly learned.
It was a punishment Lemon hoped to avoid, but in the ultra-regimented world of GMC, nobody stays perfect for long.
For the past few months in Athens, Lemon had found himself overwhelmed by an avalanche of bad decisions and disastrous consequences, but his first crime at GMC was for the cardinal sin of forgetting to take a pen to class.
He got the bull ring.
"It's just nitpicky stuff," Lemon said, "but I think it builds discipline and character you have to follow everything down to the 'T' or else you get in trouble."
Like many of his teammates, Lemon never thought he would end up at GMC, and if he had his way, he never would have. He hopes this year will be a small bump in the road, another of a seemingly endless string of challenges to be overcome on his path to a better life. What he doesn't want, however, is to forget what brought him there.
BUMPS IN THE ROAD
Lemon's path to GMC wasn't the typical one.
The 21-year-old from Lizella isn't at the school to improve his grades to qualify for admission to a Division I school. Lemon already has succeeded at the highest levels of college football. His time at the military junior college isn't about building himself up to achieve bigger things. It's about rebuilding the future he once had.
At Stratford, Lemon was a high school phenom, racking up 169 career tackles while playing everything from fullback to tight end to nose tackle. After signing with Georgia in 2006, he found his niche at defensive end.
Lemon redshirted his first season in Athens and appeared in eight games his next. During spring practice this year, he was named the most improved defensive end, climbing his way up the depth chart, where he was listed as the Bulldogs' No. 3 defensive end.
His on-field successes, however, have been overshadowed by a litany of heartache off it.
When Lemon was 16, his best friend, Cory Johnson, died in a car accident. Lemon was following in a separate car and pulled his friend from the wreckage, but Johnson died at the hospital.
In February 2007, Lemon's home in Lizella was set on fire, with his brother, Marquez, and mother, Phaba, inside. A newspaper carrier saw the flames and woke Marquez in time to escape, but Lemon's mother was already dead. Police determined Phaba Lemon was murdered by her boyfriend, who had intentionally set the blaze after beating her to death.
Through it all, Michael Lemon remained upbeat. He wore his smile like a uniform, and in the face of tragedy, he always fell back on football. This summer, however, that, too, was taken from him, and this time Lemon had only himself to blame.
In July, Lemon was arrested on felony assault charges. At a cookout in Athens, Lemon became upset with a fellow student for talking to his girlfriend, according to a police report filed with the Athens Clarke County Police Department. Lemon punched the man several times before the fight was broken up. The victim was taken to the hospital, and in conjunction with university policy, Lemon was immediately suspended from the team.
A few days later, head coach Mark Richt announced Lemon had been dismissed from the program. It was a decision Richt later called the most difficult of his career at Georgia.
Initially, Lemon hoped to find his way back on to the Bulldogs' roster, but less than a month later, he was arrested again - this time for underage possession of alcohol - effectively ending any chance he had of returning to the team.
As the off-field issues spiraled out of control, it became increasingly difficult for Lemon to maintain that constant smile. The stories in the newspaper and on television used his name, but it seemed like they were talking about a different person, he said. Yes, he had done things he wasn't proud of, but it hardly seemed real.
"When everything was happening, everything just started rolling, and it was like, I eventually had to stop picking up the paper because they were portraying me as this monster," Lemon said. "Just to read people and see how they saw me, and they saw me as somebody totally different from who I really was."
Lemon's friends and coaches advised him to remain silent - no verbal sparring with victims or police, no interviews with the media, no defense against the onslaught of negative stories.
Among his friends, Lemon enjoyed support, but the public assault ate at him.
"There was really nothing that I could do," Lemon said. "I couldn't call up 100,000 or however many people and say, 'Hey, I'm Michael Lemon, let me introduce myself to you.' "
To Lemon, he was still the big-hearted kid with the wide smile. The public had been shown a darker side, however, and excuses or explanations weren't the answer. He had made mistakes, and he was paying for them. What he wanted was a second chance.
A FRESH START
Once Richt knew Lemon would not return to Georgia, he placed a call to Bert Williams, the head football coach at GMC. The two had developed a relationship through the years, and Richt had recently plucked starters Vince Vance, Jarius Wynn and Corvey Irvin from Williams' program.
Lemon wasn't the typical GMC student, but Richt saw the school as Lemon's chance at redemption. The regimented culture of the military program might be exactly what the sophomore needed to put his life back in order.
On the surface, GMC doesn't seem a lot different from Georgia. The uniforms are red and white, just like the ones Lemon wore in Athens. They're just a bit more frayed and faded.
The locker rooms are nice, but not nearly as big, and after practice, the players are expected to clean them.
Like the preseason at Georgia, the schedule is grueling - but rather than spending hours in the film room, GMC players line up for military formations long before sunrise.
The program offers a first-class junior-college experience, Williams said, but it's a far cry from Georgia.
"Our guys learn appreciation for things they're given," Williams said. "We work very hard to make everything we do as first class as possible, (but) I like to think we toughen them up a little bit."
For players who have been stars of their high school teams or have transferred from swanky Division I facilities, it can be a culture shock.
What happens on the football field, however, is the easy part. The military lifestyle is a dramatic change of pace for many players who are often used to an unhealthy amount of freedom.
"Waking up early in the morning at 5 o'clock, going to run, shaving, wearing a uniform every day, shining my shoes, keeping my room clean, just getting fussed at for nothing, I wasn't used to that," said Irvin, who played defensive tackle for GMC in 2006 before transferring to Georgia.
The regimented lifestyle isn't for everyone, but as Irvin soon found out, there's no point in fighting it. One punishment followed another until Irvin did what he had to do to survive - not necessarily because he bought in to the program, but because going along with the plan was easier than fighting it.
That's often the case, Williams said, but the sales pitch is an easy one.
"The fact of the matter is that if they could take care of their business, they would have, and they wouldn't be here," Williams said. "The fact of the matter is, they need that structure, they need the discipline to help get them focused on getting their academic credentials to where they need to be and to change some of their personal habits that have probably held them back in succeeding."
The track record speaks for itself, Williams said. Through last season, GMC has placed 115 of its players with Division I teams, and no junior college has transferred more talent to Division I since 2000. Along the walls outside Williams' office, nearly a dozen NFL Jerseys are framed with the names of players who had once called GMC home stitched across the back. Mementos of the 2001 team's junior college national championship are everywhere.
The lesson is simple, Williams said. GMC isn't a destination, but it's a clear path to success.
"Schools recruit us because we're doing a great job of getting students academically prepared and improving their athletic abilities and holding them to a high standard of behavior," Williams said. "The process works, but the longer you want to fight it, the harder it's going to be for you."
LESSON IN CULTURE
There was no fight in Lemon when he arrived at GMC. There was only anxiety.
For the better part of three years in Athens, Lemon had parked in the same spot every day. That was the first thing that hit him when he arrived at GMC, but it would hardly be the most traumatic.
"It's not a lifestyle I've been accustomed to," Lemon said. "Who to salute, who not to salute, what you've got to say to this person - just different little small things."
Williams had a long talk with Lemon before bringing him to GMC, making sure he understood what enrollment at the school meant. Lemon spoke with his former Georgia teammates, too. Irvin sounded a strong warning but also reiterated the opportunity at hand.
"At Georgia, you're kind of free a little bit. At GMC, you're on their time, like you're in jail," Irvin said. "But I'm sure he knows what he's got at stake."
Lemon's day begins at 5:20 a.m. Twenty minutes later, he is outside for morning formations. Breakfast is served at 6:30, followed by more formations, class, more formations, practice. At 11 p.m., it's lights out, no exceptions.
Uniforms - either football or military - are worn nearly all the time. Barracks are kept pristine. Salutes are given to the proper people or push-ups are done on the spot. The little details mean everything.
"There really is no way around it," Lemon said. "There's no back door to try to get through. You just have to do it."
Lemon is handling his new life better than virtually anyone else in the program, Williams said. In his three months at GMC, Williams said he doesn't remember a single bad day for Lemon. That smile is back, a badge of honor that he overcame the hard times and better days are ahead.
It's hard to know what Lemon is thinking on the inside, Williams said, but outwardly, he has done all the right things.
"The one thing that did impress me about him is he never made excuses for the mistakes he made in Athens," Williams said. "He accepted responsibility for what he did and where he was."
LOOKING FORWARD
Lemon isn't trying to outrun his past. He holds no grudges against Georgia for dismissing him. He doesn't feel abandoned. He feels saved.
Moving from Georgia to GMC, he said, isn't about turning the page; it's about expanding his horizons. He compared it to leaving one family to find another one - a story he knows all too well.
"I would never put Georgia behind me," he said. "Maybe slide it over and make room for another place. That's where I did most of my growing since high school. That's where I made the strongest bonds with the people who were on that team. I could never put those experiences behind me."
Lemon never wavered in his decision to head to GMC. It was the path to where he wanted to be. It was his second chance.
Williams has Lemon's name listed with all the recruiting services. Williams calls coaches around the country and touts Lemon's athletic ability. He tells them about the big smile and positive attitude, too.
Once or twice a week, Lemon stops into Williams' office to talk about what schools might be interested in recruiting him and what he needs to do to get back to the big time.
"Right now, I'm just kind of open," Lemon said. "I've been out of the whole recruiting loop for a while, so I'm getting back into it. It's sort of like I'm coming out of high school again all over."
Sitting in the plush meeting room on a leather chair in Georgia's multi-million dollar athletics building, Irvin said the biggest lesson his time at GMC taught him is to appreciate the little things.
Lemon learned that quickly, too, but there's something about the little things at GMC that have brought him peace.
Road trips are long. The buses are first-class and the players always stay in nice hotels, but traveling cross-country by highways or back roads is simply part of the routine.
Every few weeks, Lemon sits on a bus for 14 or 15 hours, just him and his new teammates. Things seem simpler, quiet, real. When the team arrives at the stadium for away games, there aren't 90,000 fans screaming. There are no NFL stars in VIP boxes taking in the game. The sidelines aren't cluttered with television cameras.
"You look, and there's just dust and dirt on the bleachers," Lemon said. "There's no people. You're playing for yourself. In a way, it kind of takes it back to a kind of rec ball feel, just when you were playing the game for fun."
That has made the biggest impact on Lemon. Football is fun again, and that smile crosses his face with ease now, even when he talks about his painful past.
With all the travel, Lemon hasn't had a chance to watch too many Georgia games so far this season. Last Saturday, however, he managed to catch the Bulldogs' loss to Alabama - an outcome that forced him to endure the taunts of a few Crimson Tide fans on his team.
After the game was over, he called a few of his former teammates in Athens to go over some play-by-play and talk Xs and Os. The conversations help Lemon feel like he's still a part of the Bulldogs' family, and those are relationships he plans to carry with him for the rest of his life.
Lemon says his past is part of who he is. He just doesn't want his past to define him. He wants to use his second chance to show the world who he really is.
"I've had to live in the moment," Lemon said. "I would have all those memories and thoughts about (the past), but that wouldn't help me get through this. The only way I could get through this was to be in the situation, so that's my approach I took to it."