TEMPE, Ariz. -- He began the year by himself, the lone member of the Ohio State recruiting class of 2001½. He ends it sitting on a chair atop a tiny stage at Sun Devil Stadium, reporters and cameramen forming a five-deep semi-circle around him, foam-covered microphones thrust so close that they nearly scrape his black beard.

Maurice Clarett was 18 when he arrived at Ohio State, 19 when he plopped himself on that chair Tuesday morning, squinted into the crowd of notebooks and minicams, and awaited the questions. In between Januarys Clarett's life has done a reverse 2½ backflip with a twist. In Friday's national championship game against Miami we find out if he nails the landing.

	Ohio State freshman RB Maurice Clarett ran for 1,190 yards and 14 TDs this year.

The latest Maurice Moment deals with his failed attempt to return home to Youngstown, Ohio, in time for the funeral of a boyhood friend. Clarett says he filed the necessary forms required to receive emergency money for such a trip; Ohio State says otherwise.

Reporters breathlessly asked if Clarett's remarks (including the oft-repeated, "I guess football is more important than a person's life to them.") would have an effect on Ohio State's Fiesta Bowl preparations, or if Clarett himself would feel less compelled to give his all for a university that allegedly failed him in his time of personal need.

"I ain't really worried about it being a distraction," he said.

If you've seen Clarett play this season you know he speaks the truth. Clarett is a pedal-to-the-medal kind of guy. He plays for himself, for his teammates, for his coaches.

"The only people I have to have a relationship with is that man right there," he said, gesturing toward Ohio State coach Jim Tressel, "and the people on the team."

And Ohio State proper?

"I never had that much affection for Ohio State," he said. "I came to Ohio State to get an education and to play football, and that's it."

So far he's gotten both: an education that goes far beyond anything he'll learn in a lecture hall, and a football experience that has featured more ups and downs than the nearby Camelback Mountain.

I don't know about you, but I spent most of my freshman year in college in a semi-stupor, overwhelmed by Western Civ, coin laundry machines, 6:50 a.m. classes, and $1.99 12-packs of Schlitz. And then there's Clarett, who barreled through Warren Harding High School in time to join the Buckeyes winter conditioning program in January, participate in spring drills, become the first OSU true freshman to start the season at tailback since 1943, rush for 175 yards in the opener against Texas Tech, rush for 230 yards on national television against Washington State, undergo knee surgery three days later, rush for 104 yards against Indiana 11 days later, see his signature sold on eBay, have overzealous fans follow him home, confront his fear of flying, cry in front of his teammates after a three-fumble (and 140-yard, two-touchdown) game against Northwestern, tell ESPN The Magazine that he had considered the possibility of challenging the NFL's early entry rule, deal with the subsequent fan backlash from his remarks -- including hate mail, cope with a series of shoulder injuries that caused him to stagger off the field like some sort of football Quasimodo, miss games against Minnesota and Illinois, and play only briefly against Penn State and Purdue because of the pain in his shoulder, rush for 119 yards against Michigan -- even though his shoulder wasn't near 100 percent, become the Big Ten Freshman of the Year, finish with 1,190 yards, be part of a 13-0 regular season, play for a national title, then speak passionately about a fallen friend and the frustration of not being able to say goodbye.

And another thing: his girlfriend is mad at him.

"I know he's feeling it," said freshman redshirt quarterback Troy Smith, who is rooming with Clarett at the Fiesta Bowl. "But he'll be good. That's the type of player he is."

Clarett wears his heart on his jersey sleeve. Buckeye fans more worried about Miami than Clarett's own feelings will never understand why he said what he said Monday and Tuesday. But his mother knew.

"He was a 19-year-old boy who was filled with emotion that day," said the soft-spoken Michelle Clarett. "He had just lost one of his best friends."

There were a lot of one-word answers and cold stares from Clarett during Tuesday's one-hour media session. His signature laugh and smile made infrequent appearances. He cradled a camcorder (part of his Fiesta Bowl gift package) and occasionally kicked at the stage floor with his suede work boots. Clarett clearly was still annoyed with several Ohio State officials, "but I ain't going to name no names."

But his mood softened when he spoke about his mom, about his departed friend, and about Miami defensive tackle Vince Wilfork, who is dealing with the recent deaths of both his mother and father.

"I feel bad for the dude from Miami," he said. "I couldn't imagine that. That's really sad."

Wilfork is playing Friday. Clarett wouldn't.

"I'd probably go home," he said. "Sorry to the university. My heart goes out to him."

There is no in-between with Clarett. He says what he believes. He thinks he got sucker-punched by unnamed Ohio State bureaucrats. He thinks Miami's Willis McGahee is the most complete running back in the country. "He's better than me right now," he said.

He thinks the national championship game is "another game," but with more people watching.

What a strange, wonderful, bizarre, sobering 12 months it has been for Clarett, who came to Ohio State from the hard edges of Youngstown. Who knew the distance between 18 and 19 could be so far?

"I can see that he's matured a lot over the last year," said Michelle Clarett. "I just don't want him to mature and grow up too fast. I want him to enjoy being a young person."

I tell her that it looks as if her son needs a hug.

"He needs a lot of hugs," she said.

Gene Wojciechowski is a senior writer at ESPN The Magazine. He can be reached at gene.wojciechowski@espnmag.com.