ATLANTA - It seems that everyone wants to be James Lynch's mother, including the Maryland junior fullback himself.

The coaches constantly inquire about Lynch's 2-year-old son, James Jr. His 30-year-old sister, Regina Hill, tells him that moving back to his Northeast Washington home is a recipe for disaster. He tells himself that, despite the whirl of his life in the past six months, there's no reason to cry.

All to fill a void left in June, when Brenda Lynch died after a vein ruptured near her brain as a result of high blood pressure. Try as they might, all the surrogates in the world couldn't replace the 41-year-old woman, who was teacher, provider and inspiration for her youngest of three children.

"She was like a coach at home. She'd settle me down. Redirect my attention," said Lynch, 20, who had his left forearm tattooed with the likeness of his mother's face two days after her death. "She'd tell me to focus in more on school, put in more time. Don't do certain things. Don't go out. I have to remind myself of what she might tell me."

She was beloved not only by her children, but also by players for whom she invited over for dinner every Sunday after a victory.

So much so that nearly half the roster was in attendance at the funeral.

"She was more than his mother - she was his best friend," Terps safety Tyrone Stewart said. "For a lot of players, she was like another mom. She'd make dinners, have us over, just sit around and play cards or whatever. So we lost a good friend, too."

"I know he misses his mother terribly," Maryland head coach Ralph Friedgen said. "I know his players miss her, too. It's just a tough situation to deal with."

Lynch's grades became a problem, but mindful of his mom, he pulled himself together and remained eligible for the season. He'll be in the starting backfield Tuesday night when the 20th-ranked Terrapins play Tennessee in the Peach Bowl at the Georgia Dome.

Lynch has been Maryland's primary fullback since a knee injury ended Chad Killian's career Sept. 28 against Wofford. He mostly blocks, but averages 4.1 yards per carry.

"It was amazing that he was able to refocus himself, and put himself in the position to be able to help us win 10 games this season," running backs coach Mike Locksley said. "At fullback, you don't get the ball. He's asked to play a lot of roles and he's done it really well."

Friedgen and Locksley sent notes to Lynch every few weeks asking him to come to Friedgen's office.

"What did I do now?" Lynch said he would ask himself, only to find out they usually were merely concerned about his family life.

"It's not a problem or anything," Lynch said. "There's no problems. No big issues. Nothing pressing."

Hill said that Brenda Lynch, fearful of surgery, never told her children that her life was in danger because of blood pressure high enough to require an operation they would have urged her to undergo.

But in the year before her death, Brenda told James enough that he was prepared on June 14, when she went brain dead, a respirator keeping her heart beating. She'd told him that she never wanted to be hooked up to a machine, and she didn't want him crying at the funeral. He told doctors to disconnect the machine.

"She always told me that people who cry at funerals, some people [cry] because they haven't seen people in a long time, or just because they can't believe it," Lynch said. "But most cry because [they] didn't get to tell them something or they regret a lot of things that happened."

Stress was a substitute for tears in Lynch's life. He and his older brother, Wilson Whitaker, 21, arranged the funeral and handled related matters, and then moved into their sister's nearby apartment.

In those weeks, he missed summer school classes and was required to withdraw from that short course. He ended up taking classes during two-a-day practices in August.

The fortunate part was that most of his tougher classes came in the spring.

Offered a chance to take a $900 per month stipend from Maryland to find a place closer to his Landsburg neighborhood in Washington - to take care of James Jr. and the baby's mother - he decided to stay on campus.

Hill said she saw little good coming from him moving back with her, in an area dangerous enough that she tells Lynch's teammates not to linger too long when they visit.

"He's there [at Maryland], so he has to get up and go," she said. "If she's in the Southeast or Northeast, he may wake up and decide not to go to school. A couple of times, he tried to come here and we wouldn't let him."

She said that family issues could impact Lynch's career at Maryland. Whitaker lives with Hill, while the girlfriend and James Jr. live with an aunt.

Though Lynch isn't rated as a pro prospect at this point, she believes that he would try the professional ranks after this season if there were any shot of that happening.

"He doesn't like school, but he loves football and he's got to go through school to get to the football," Hill said. "He said he wasn't any silver spoon. If they gave him the offer to leave school, he would leave."

In his third year at Maryland, Lynch would be eligible to enter the NFL draft. It has been a passing thought at times, but he expects to be back in College Park next season.

He hopes that with everything settled, he can come into 2003's camp in better shape than he did this year.

"I couldn't get myself the way I needed to be from dealing with family issues and then class, just to be able to play," Lynch said. "There's always more money if you can stick around. It's not a need."

Next for Terps

Matchup:No. 20 Maryland (10-3) vs. Tennessee (8-4) in Peach Bowl

Site:Georgia Dome, Atlanta

When:Tuesday, 7:30 p.m.

TV/Radio:ESPN/WBAL (1090 AM)

Line:Pick