FORT COLLINS — The little white boy looked at the skin of the little black boy and called him the N-word.
Lee Clubb was on a T-ball field that day in Texas. He was 5. The parents were on the field, too, helping kids with their fundamentals, so Clubb’s mother heard the searing insult fired at her son. She approached the little white boy.
“You know what?” LaDonna Clubb said to him. “God does not care what color our skin is. All he cares about is what’s in your heart.”
It was a touching moment of education on race relations — all the more because, see, Lee Clubb’s mother is white.
The current Colorado State receiver became part of the Clubb family just two days after he was born. Adopted by white parents — with four white sons — Clubb was raised in the tiny town of Iowa Park, Texas, which he estimated was “98 percent white.”
He became one of the greatest athletes the north Texas town ever saw, and along the way, he helped change how the town saw race.
“When Lee first came into our home, I could actually count on one hand the black people in Iowa Park,” said LaDonna Clubb, who has lived in Iowa Park since junior high and is married to John Clubb. “And there used to be a lot of old people who’d kind of look at you. But with Lee’s personality being outgoing, it was interesting to see a lot of these old people who slowly transformed. They’d come to the games, they’d cheer for him. They learned a life lesson as well.”
Toughness on the field
On Wednesday, a sunny afternoon in Fort Collins, it suddenly began raining.
There was a shower of expletives from the CSU coaches, notably Steve Fairchild, the passionate head coach who had seen enough — or, really, hadn’t seen anything at all.
“Offensively, we still haven’t had a receiver who has stepped up,” Fairchild said after practice. “I’ll tell you what — if a freshman receiver knows what he’s doing, he’s going to play. We are absolutely just starving for somebody to be average out there.”
Fairchild has pulled Clubb’s redshirt before Clubb could get the thing over his shoulder pads. Just two days into camp, the coach knew the freshman could help his team in some capacity (and, at the receiver position, he knew he needed some help).
Nothing is set in regards to playing time, but the kid continues to impress, which is, well, impressive — considering he played quarterback in Iowa Park last fall.
CSU assistant coach Dan Hammerschmidt had heard about Clubb from his counterparts at Texas Christian. The Horned Frogs, though, had filled their available spots, so Hammerschmidt took a road trip.
College recruiters have seemingly been everywhere, twice — “But I had never been there before, that’s for sure,” Hammerschmidt said. “Little school, lots of pickup trucks, one-stoplight town.”
He met the 5-foot-10, 185-pound athlete and, like many who meet Lee, was astounded by the maturity of such a young kid. He also met a family who was colorblind. Later, the coach would gush about how the family actually liked each other, liked doing things together.
“They’re like a family is supposed to be — it’s kind of refreshing,” he said. “They raised him right. He has morals, he has character. And he works. . . .
“He’s been a pleasant surprise (during camp). We knew he had work ethic and athleticism coming in, but his mentality and his toughness — you never know if a skill guy is going to be tough or not. That’s the one thing that’s hard to tell.”
Background check
Home is four country-fried square miles. In Iowa Park, Clubb felt like he belonged. He epitomized the town’s passion for sports, the pride for religion. And he helped re-energize a football program — and a fan base — that had been stagnant, making Friday nights important again.
Sure, over the years, there had been some comments. Like when a man sarcastically pulled on baby Lee’s foot and said to LaDonna, “And who is this baby’s daddy?” Or when his pee-wee football team would travel to smaller towns “known for being prejudice,” LaDonna said, and the youth coaches found themselves teaching temperament as well as tackling. Or, the couple times LaDonna overheard someone say, “Oh, there’s this family . . .”
But for Clubb, the only skin that mattered was thick skin.
“My parents are just so strong. So tough,” he said. “They’re so strong-willed that it just makes me want to be a better person, you know what I mean? . . .
“God put me with the right family.”
He has seen “The Blind Side.” It’s a natural comparison. In the popular movie, based off the book of the same title, a white family brings in a black teenager, whose home life was in disarray. Sandra Bullock won an Oscar for playing the sassy but inspirational matriarch, who, when told that she was changing the boy’s life, replied, “No, he’s changin’ mine.”
Clubb was overwhelmed by the film. “To be honest, it brought me to tears,” he said, “because it reminded me so much of my family.”
Clubb is proud of his legacy — and that has nothing to do with his football accomplishments or being drafted by baseball’s Kansas City Royals. His legacy is his normalcy, his ability to just fit in and make people see Lee, not a minority.
He likes to talk to younger kids. He said he enjoys inspiring them with integrity.
“I look at it as — everything happens for a reason,” he said.
Benjamin Hochman: 303-954-1294 or bhochman@denverpost.com
