RAND, W.Va. -- "Big Mike" Thomas' daily ritual as head
custodian at DuPont Middle School starts by unlocking the doors to
the gymnasium and looking high on the wall at a photo of his good
friend, Randy Moss.
In an adjacent hallway, Thomas glances into a trophy case
honoring Moss, ex-teammate Jason Williams and the school's
predecessor, DuPont High, for feats accomplished more than a decade
ago.
Thomas can't help but whistle while he works these days. Moss, a
rare success story from a poor community near Charleston, is going
for football's biggest prize on Sunday.
"If you can make it and get out of here, yeah, you're pretty
lucky," Thomas said. "That's my boy, doing his thing. The Super
Bowl. He's a hometown hero."
And Thomas is more than the cleanup crew.
The janitor-turned-jetsetter is part of a small circle of
friends that Moss flies at his expense to see games or meet up for
a weekend at the player's home. Minneapolis, Oakland, New England,
and many points in between.
"He was always the greatest to us anyway. I wish you could see
him as we see him," Thomas said with a chuckle. "All we do is we
sit at the house and crack jokes on each other."
There's also a softer side to Moss few people know about.
"You would be amazed to see how kindhearted -- he loves kids,"
Thomas said.
Moss' generosity with his friends and children back home often
goes unnoticed.
He's arranged for busloads of area children to attend
professional football and basketball games and area amusement
parks. He has held autograph sessions for children in Charleston
nearly every year since turning pro and he sponsors community
events.
As a child, "He never got a chance to go to a professional game
because, first of all, his momma couldn't afford it and didn't know
nobody," said Carol Hodge, a substitute teacher at DuPont Middle
School who has known Moss since birth.
"He is really trying to give back," she said. "He's doing it
in his own way and his own time."
Susan Duernberger taught Moss in ninth-grade civics and he
played sports with her son. Moss appeared in a video on her behalf
in competition for a teaching award.
"I used to tease him that he helped make me teacher of the
year, so I was going to make him athlete of the year," Duernberger
said.
Moss grew up in a single-parent home with three siblings six
miles from the state Capitol. Rand, a town of about 2,500
residents, is a mix of trailers and modest homes squeezed between
railroad tracks, U.S. Route 60 and mountains on one side and the
Kanawha River a few blocks to the west.
When people go out to eat, they have to leave town. The center
of activity is a convenience store not far from Moss' former
school. The most noticeable business is a junkyard. A sign with the
town's former name, Levi, still stands.
Outside of the school, the only evidence of Moss and his
mid-1990s athletic accomplishments is a small, green sign at the
town's entrance proclaiming Rand as his hometown.
Moss' inner circle also includes Sam Singleton, Moss' youth
football and baseball coach who bought him cleats, often fed him,
and was a father figure to him.
"He's Randy's cook, basically," Thomas said. "Randy will eat
out. But if Sam's around, he won't want anybody else to cook for
him but Sam."
The frequent flier of the group is Moss' personal assistant,
Donnie Jones, who has been to all but one of the Patriots' games
this season.
He was hired during Moss' rookie season in 1998 with the
Vikings. Jones started out by being in charge of reading Moss' fan
mail. His duties now include running to buy video games for Moss'
PlayStation, arranging to ship Moss' vehicle cross country, or just
being an extra set of eyes.
"Whatever he needs, I get it done," Jones said.
The one who stands out, though, is Thomas, 51, a popular figure
at school whose frequent laughs echo far down the hallway.
His first-ever trip on a plane came in 2000 when he started
following Moss in the pros.
With Super Bowl tickets at a premium, Thomas doubts he'll see
the game in person, speculating that Moss' immediate family comes
first.
"I'm just the kind of guy that when you call, I go. If you
don't call, I don't go," Thomas said. "I'm hoping to get to go, I
really am. But if I don't, I'm not going to be mad."
The important thing is the ring.
"He has one more," Thomas said. "We can't do any dancing yet.
Like he tells us, I've got one more thing to do."