ORLANDO -- Two days after the news conference at which tailback Ricky Williams was introduced as the player who might actually catapult the Miami Dolphins beyond the first round of the playoffs, the phone rang in coach Dave Wannstedt's office. While the number on his caller I.D. was one he didn't recognize, he picked up the headset anyway.

	Ricky Williams made no secret of his excitement over being traded to the Dolphins.

On the other end of the line was a local real estate agent, apprising Wannstedt that Williams had just put down earnest money on a home in the area, close to the team complex. But to Wannstedt the brief conversation was more significant than just a guy preparing to buy a house.

It concerned a player making an investment in his future, about an often misunderstood veteran trying to make things right the second time around, about a guy willing to make a down payment on a piece of property and a commitment to a prominent role with his new team.

"Look, it's not like Ricky is coming to a team that doesn't have a lot of star players," Wannstedt said. "You've got to earn your way into our group. How do you do that? By showing up for the offseason stuff, showing everyone you're with the program, getting in the weight room and sweating with them. So far, he's done all of that, and people are impressed."

The Dreadlocked One was hardly diligent in his offseason training during his three seasons with the New Orleans Saints. He fit in with the city's nickname, "The Big Easy," by characteristically being too big and taking it way too easy. Unfortunately, the former Heisman Trophy winner, for whom the Saints sacrificed their entire 1999 draft and choices in 2000 as well, was a square peg in a round hole in New Orleans' locker room.

His aloof persona rubbed teammates, fans and the media the wrong way. Williams conducted interviews from behind the security of a visor on his helmet. Even in a city as bizarre as New Orleans, he was regarded as too weird, a nonconformist uncomfortable with the savior label he toted around.

And how much did he fret about his conditioning? A few weeks ago, Williams found in the mail a bill for $200,000, the repayment due the Saints under his wacky contract because of his weight problems and a failure to attend a prescribed number of offseason workouts.

It is one thing, of course, to scrutinize Williams as a player. You turn on the videotape machine, as did Wannstedt and personnel chief Rick Spielman, sit back and watch the celluloid evidence of his abilities on the field. But for the Dolphins to make a commitment to Williams, and to surrender a first-round draft choice this year and a conditional pick in 2003 that could become another first-rounder based on the tailback's performance, they had to plumb his off-field background.

And so there were phone calls to former associates at the University of Texas, to onetime Longhorns and NFL star Earl Campbell, to high school coaches and longtime friends. Most important, there was a meeting at the combine sessions in Indianapolis with former New Orleans general manager Bill Kuharich, the man whom along with then-Saints coach Mike Ditka masterminded the '99 megadeal to land Williams.

The advice from Kuharich was simple: If the price isn't exorbitant, and if the fit is as good as it appears to be, complete the trade.

"He is going to be tremendous for the Dolphins," said Kuharich, now pro personnel director for the Kansas City Chiefs. "He'll get carries and they'll throw him the ball. And he's going to be a lot happier there than in New Orleans. It's too bad, because the public just put so much pressure on him down there to be The Guy, you know? But as good as he is, what he really wants to be is just one of the guys, that's all. He's smart enough to know that in Miami he has a chance to be exactly that."

	“	This isn't like trading for an Eric Dickerson or a Marcus Allen in their 30s, where you're just trying to squeeze one more year out of them. Ricky is going to be with us for the long haul and he's going to get the ball a lot. I think he'll be pretty happy and I think we will be, too. ”
		— Dave Wannstedt

His occasionally eccentric behavior aside, Williams is no fool, and the few interviews in which he has dropped his guard have demonstrated that. He scored a 32 in 1999 on the Wonderlic test, an I.Q.-type battery administered by most NFL teams, and that grade was higher than any of the quarterbacks' grades in that year's draft.

Wannstedt acknowledged Tuesday that the Dolphins organization put in plenty of man hours digging into Williams' background, and that "because we were honest with him on things and he was candid," the two sides accomplished a good feel for each other. Spielman allowed that the team researched Williams as they would a potential first-round draft choice.

"If we were going to do this," Spielman said, "we were going to turn over as many stones as we felt we had to so that we would be comfortable with Ricky. The fact we made the trade was all predicated on us knowing him really well and knowing what to expect."

Nearly two weeks into the relationship, the Dolphins have not altered their expectations. They feel Williams is the workhorse runner the offense has lacked for too many seasons.

Erroneously regarded as a passing game guru, new offensive coordinator Norv Turner is a man who loves to bludgeon opponents with the running game, and Williams is his new human wrecking ball. Turner's preferred method is to get a lead and then use the run to protect it.

Williams, who averaged 271.3 carries and 1,043 yards during his three seasons in New Orleans, will top those numbers in Miami if he simply stays healthy.

Dating back to 1991, when Turner first became an offensive coordinator in Dallas, his attacks have featured a strong inside rushing game. Over that period, the "feature" back in the Turner-designed offense has averaged 292 rushes and 1,223 yards.

In eight of those 11 seasons, Turner had a 1,200-yard runner, the only exceptions in 1994 when he had to rotate backs as head coach in Washington, and in 1997 and 1998 when an aging Terry Allen combined for only 1,424 yards in two years. Take away those three fallow seasons, and the backs who played under Turner averaged 1,423 yards.

The 1,200-yard mark is significant, since the Dolphins will have to surrender a second-round pick to the Saints in 2003 if Williams reaches the milestone. If he gets to 1,500 rushing yards, the pick becomes a first-rounder.

Wannstedt speaks like a man who will be only too happy to gift-wrap a first-round pick in 2003.

"He's only 24 years old and he doesn't have that much mileage on him," Wannstedt said. "This isn't like trading for an Eric Dickerson or a Marcus Allen in their 30s, where you're just trying to squeeze one more year out of them. Ricky is going to be with us for the long haul and he's going to get the ball a lot. I think he'll be pretty happy and I think we will be, too."

Len Pasquarelli is a senior writer for ESPN.com.