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Ricky Proehl is taking a big risk at the crook of Horse Pen Creek and Jessup Grove roads. And he knows it.

He's spending a lot of his own money. He's been called crazy. And he's heard people blister him for creating more noise, more traffic, and more concrete and steel in a once bucolic swath of northwest Guilford County.

Yet, Proehl stands firm. He sees the need for what he calls Proehlific Park, a six-field, $10 million complex geared for young athletes ages 7 to 18.

He calls it his legacy. And as he goes about his long days, delivering in a quiet voice his dreams for the park, he relies on his faith. He believes.

"I know some people don't see it yet, but I have a vision, a passion," Proehl says. "I see the construction, and I believe it can change a generation of kids.

"They'll be proud to be a part of something special, and 10 years down the road, I truly believe someone will say, 'Proehlific Park changed my life.' ''

For many fans, Proehl is as familiar as a favorite trading card.
He's an old-school athlete with old-school values who remained in pro football for 17 years. He became the sage old man, a favorite on the Carolina Panthers, a quiet leader called "the technician'' by his teammate Steve Smith.

It wasn't always like that. Proehl is an overachiever, a guy who heard during the first quarter of his football life that he was too slow, too small, too limited to make it in college, let alone the pros.

Yet, he worked hard. He believed.

At age 10, while watching a New York Giants' game at the Meadowlands, he told his father: "Dad, I'm going to play here some day.''

At Hillsborough High, his alma mater in middle-class New Jersey, he wrote in pencil on a piece of notebook paper: "In 10 years, I hope to be a professional football player, and in 20 years, I hope to be a successful business man.''

But Proehl had believers, too.

Otto Gsell, his high school football coach, moved Proehl from running back to wide receiver his junior year. Gsell knew Proehl had it in him — even when Proehl didn't think so himself.

"You can do great things,'' Gsell told him.

Proehl did. He made all-state his senior year and earned a scholarship to Wake Forest, one of only two schools that recruited him. He set school records at Wake, got picked in the third round of the NFL draft and began the life of an athletic journeyman.

He bounced between six teams, and when he moved — from Phoenix, Seattle, Chicago, St. Louis — he'd call his mom and say, "Well, I have to prove myself again.''

That all changed in 1999. He met coach and mentor Dick Vermeil, his St. Louis Rams won the Super Bowl, and he turned into what Sports Illustrated called the "beloved wideout'' that created a "fairy-tale career.''

All good memories.

Today, Proehl doesn't miss football. He gets to spend time with his family. And gets to tackle his next dream: Proehlific Park.

Proehl made a lot of money and made wise investments. He walked away relatively unscathed — two injuries in 17 years — and bought for his family 12 years ago a comfortable 6,500-square-foot house in a gated community near Brassfield Shopping Center.

Still, he worries. Not about himself. For his family.

He says he's put "a lot of money up front'' to build Proehlific Park. He won't say how much. But he admits it gets "scary'' for him when he thinks about his wife Kelly and their three children, ages 8 to 13. Proehlific Park is a family business; it's their future, too.

Ricky and Kelly sketched out the plan at their kitchen table. They thought about opening a sporting goods store and a drop-in center for kids before the idea of a park took shape.

Two years ago, Ricky found practice fields hard to find when his oldest son, Austin, pitched for the Triad Tomahawks.

Then, he mentioned the park idea to his son's baseball coach, Robbie Efird, a seasoned businessman.

The two took trips in their pickups, looking for land. Ricky's attorney introduced them to a family that owned a desirable 20-acre tract within sight of Jessup Grove Baptist Church.

"This is it,'' Ricky told Efird.

The family liked Ricky's proposal, and they all agreed with a handshake.
Ricky brought in his longtime friend, Mike Pratapas, his former academic adviser at Wake who became a fundraiser and networker in the business of college athletics.

Efird became his partner, Pratapas became his president, and Kelly became his constant advocate.

"I wouldn't want to go up or go down with anyone but you,'' Kelly, his college sweetheart, a former cheerleader at Wake, told him this summer. "If we end up with nothing, so be it.''

Every chance he gets, Proehl walks the site and sees taking shape what he calls a one-stop spot for frazzled families and a safe haven for unstructured play.

There, young athletes will hone their skills, learn from pro athletes, meet college scouts and, perhaps, meet their own Otto Gsell.

Sure, Proehlific Park will be a tough sell. The issue is emotional and the memberships are considered high — $60 to $100 a month per athlete. In our corner of the struggling South, money is tight.

Without community buy-in, Proehl knows his project will sink. So far, nearly 250 memberships have come through; Proehlific needs at least 350 more by the time it opens next spring.

But Proehl hears more people are coming aboard, and he tells everyone who asks that he'll offer scholarships and reach out to athletes from money-strapped families.

"I wish it were free,'' Proehl says. "But I'm funding the thing, and I'd like to break even. Now, people laugh at that. But they don't know me. I'm not doing it to make money. It's about the kids. That's my passion, my calling.''

Yes, he believes. And for Proehl, that's always paid off.

Contact Jeri Rowe at 373-7374 or jrowe@news-record.com