The quaint, two-bedroom apartment Antoine and Anthony Smithson share in Salt Lake City could not be more different than home.
The brothers grew up on the corner of The Alameda and 29th Street in Northeast Baltimore, on a block where many of the houses have overgrown lawns and bushes cluttering yards that are no wider or longer than the 10 yards any football team needs to get a first down.
In that neighborhood, Antoine — who usually goes by Shaky — and Anthony knew to be wary. They knew too many of the people they saw were dealing drugs. Crime was rampant. Murder became something you lived with.
So it took some time for Shaky, the Douglass grad who now plays wide receiver for Utah and has taken legal guardianship of his younger brother, to understand the overtures of his new neighbors. They all wanted to help any way they could. That was new.
Anthony, just 16 years old, had fewer reservations. He felt relief almost immediately.
"I don't really get homesick because I know what's back there," he said during a phone interview. In Baltimore, "if people don't like each other, nobody fights no more, like fist fight. They always bring guns and shoot. They like killing. If you fight somebody on the street, it's not over … They're going to come back tomorrow with a gun or a knife or something like that and try to come at you."
That seems so far away for the Smithson brothers now. Shaky is preparing for unbeaten and eighth-ranked Utah's game against Air Force on Saturday. If the Utes get through that, they face TCU — currently No. 4 — next weekend in a game that could have national title implications. He leads the nation in punt-return average (23.3 yards) and, with five games left, has a shot at setting an NCAA single-season record for punt-return yardage (he's at 560, the record, set in 1948, is 791).
Everyone knew Shaky was poised for a strong senior season. The way Anthony — whose friends call him Fish — has played is more surprising. An injury forced the junior into the starting quarterback spot at Highland, his new school, midway through the year. He leads the Rams, who will play in the first round of the state tournament Friday, in passing (36-for-67, 850 yards, eight TDs) and has also rushed 78 times for 391 yards and five touchdowns. On defense he's made four interceptions.
On the field, the Smithsons make it look easy. They move effortlessly, blessed with an innate ability to see through and weave between the havoc that is football.
Off the field, their path was much more cluttered.
Unraveling
Shaky's grandmother was the one who signed him up for basketball — in a league for 8-year-olds when he was just 6 — and served as a steadying force for the family.
Her death at age 57 of scleroderma, a rare chronic autoimmune disease, "devastated" Shaky. Seven months later, his maternal grandfather, Julius Smith, died from a heart attack at 57, leaving his mother Lori, now 44, without both her parents.
Around the same time, Shaky's father Tony was laid off from his construction job. He turned to the street to support his family and was eventually arrested and convicted of possession of narcotics with intent to distribute.
"When things weren't working out with his job, he reverted back to what he knew," Shaky said. "Being that he never saw his father, he said his kids would never want for anything, which we didn't. … It wasn't to hurt anyone else. It was just to make sure his family was good."
With Lori, who was working in the nutrition department at Johns Hopkins Hospital, left to care for her four daughters and two sons, Antoine, who was in his first year at Lake Clifton, often stayed home from school to help his family.
"All of them helped out a lot, but Antoine was the oldest," Lori said. "He did everything basically. He helped me out a lot with the kids."
Helping out with his siblings, however, kept him from attending the majority of his freshman year at Lake Clifton, causing him to fail out.
Rebirth
Shaky enrolled at Douglass for his second attempt at ninth grade, bringing him to Rodney Coffield, Douglass' basketball coach.
The two met in Douglass' gym during open practices in the fall. Antoine's hair was much shorter then, compared to the dreadlocks he wears now, but his attitude was still the same: confident with a little swagger to his step. One thing that really stood out from that day, Coffield said, was the way Shaky moved on the court.
"When he got the ball, he kind of shook his body … and got a jump shot off," Coffield recalled. "It kind of goes with the fact of what he does in football: when he catches the ball he kind of gives everybody this little shake to get them off of him. Everyone knew at that point, towards the middle of September, who Shaky was by the way he dribbled."
Coffield tried to keep Shaky involved in sports so he didn't get caught up in street life. During his time at Douglass, Shaky played AAU basketball for the First Baptist Crusaders and the Chick Webb Spiders while also lettering in basketball, football and baseball for the Mighty Ducks.
Shaky also received guidance from his aunt, Shelly Smith, 47.
A correctional officer, Smith took Shaky into her home during his sophomore year at Douglass when his family was going through financial trouble. With Coffield, she helped Shaky refocus on his academics. The stay also helped him realize where he really wanted to be.
"That woke me up because I wanted to be with my family," he said. "Not saying my aunt is not my family, but I wanted to be with my brothers and sisters and my mother. So after that year, I moved back in with my mom."
Back with his siblings, Shaky was determined to set an example for them. He received his diploma in 2006, the same year that just 8.2 percent of males at Douglass were proficient in math, 23.8 percent of males were proficient in English and the graduation rate was just above 56 percent.
He scored an 840 on the SAT and finished with a 2.2 GPA. The scores, however, weren't high enough to enroll in a Division I program.
"My push to him was, 'Why waste a talent?'" Coffield said. "You're this good, Antoine, and you have aspirations of going to the next level. There's no reason for you to not go to college and do well. You may not be able to, at this point, be a Division I football player or basketball player or anything. But you can go another route."
After discussing his options with his family and Coffield, Smithson decided to go west because he believed it would be easier to be seen by top programs. That's when Shaky first presented the idea of taking Anthony out of Baltimore.
"He told me about four years ago that he was going to take care of his brother Fish," Coffield said. "He said, 'I'm going to bring him with me wherever I go and I'm going to make sure he's OK.' That was probably the proudest moment I've had with Shaky."
Heading west
Shaky opted to attend East Los Angeles Community College in the spring of 2007, but taking Anthony with him was not feasible immediately. Shaky was receiving support from his older half brother, Tony Jr., now 28, who worked for Pepsi Co. in Baltimore. But the aid wasn't enough for both brothers.
In two seasons at East L.A. Shaky was recognized twice as a first-team all-conference player, and after his sophomore year as a first-team all-region player. In his second season, he led East L.A. in rushing, receiving, punt returns, scoring and all-purpose yards. He also took classes at College of the Canyons and Los Angeles Mission College to make sure his academics were in order.
His performance at East L.A. helped him receive offers from Rutgers, Pittsburgh and Morgan State, among others, but ultimately he ended up at Utah because of their emphasis on academics during the recruiting process, he said. Shaky also felt Salt Lake City would be a good place to bring his brother.
Obtaining guardianship of Anthony took time and help from several people. First, Shaky had to inform the Baltimore City Department of Social Services that, with his mother Lori's consent, he would be taking Anthony to Utah.
Shaky also had to clear a waiver with the NCAA to receive financial support from outside groups, something athletes aren't generally allowed to do. He gathered more than 25 letters of recommendation from coaches and Salt Lake City community members saying he was capable of caring for Anthony and that moving to Utah was a good opportunity for him. The petition passed, making Shaky the fourth college athlete to receive the exemption since 2006 and allowing Anthony to move west to be with his older brother, away from the dangers of home.
In his first season with the Utes, Shaky made an impression on coach Kyle Whittingham on and off the field.
"He's a guy that his personality is such that he's going to be able to fit in wherever he goes, in whatever situation he's in," Whittingham said. "He's a unique human being and really, I just can't say enough about the kind of person that he is. As good a football player as he is, he's a better person."
Smithson has been used as a starting wide receiver, kick returner and punt returner at Utah. He also played running back when injuries depleted the position. His versatility didn't end there, taking direct snaps in a variation of the Wildcat formation, which Utah calls the "Shaky formation," and threw the ball to receivers downfield on occasions.
Anthony enrolled at Highland and made the varsity football team. He played quarterback, wide receiver, running back and cornerback. He also had a 3.9 GPA.
Away from the streets
The brothers' apartment is near Utah's athletic facility. They pay the rent using money Lori, who now works as a housecleaner for the Baltimore Hilton, sends them in addition to donations collected by Calvary Baptist Church in Salt Lake City and scholarship money. Shaky plays the role of the father, making sure Anthony's room is clean. He cooks, Fish does the dishes.
The rest of the house is kept spotless in a joint effort.
"It was nice. I wasn't shocked because I taught my sons how to clean up and everything, but it was very neat. And it was just him and Anthony," said Lori, remembering her visit to Salt Lake City during the summer of 2009. "I was like, 'Oh my goodness, did somebody come clean up for you?' Even the refrigerator was clean."
Compared to what they once knew, the brothers' lives border on the mundane. They play video games, shoot hoops, go bowling. They said they don't see family as much as they'd like, but they do call their mother on the phone every day.
It is impossible for them to push away memories of the place where they grew up. Their cousin, Damon Holmes, was shot in the head at age 30. Many of Shaky's childhood friends — the ones who taught him at an early age to run from the police, even if they'd done nothing wrong — are now in jail or dead.
Though they are relieved to be away from what they knew in Baltimore, the city — and what they learned there — shapes who they are.
"The city of Baltimore was great to me and made me become a man and helped me learn a lot about life," Shaky said. "It taught me a lot of life lessons and I think that's what got me over the hump. I got that 'go hard' from Baltimore. I've got that mindset that I can't fail for Baltimore.
"And I also know if I can make it out of Baltimore, I can make it anywhere."