Bohls: Cedric Benson, still on the edge, has lived and died

The end has arrived much too early, far too sadly and probably, if we are honest, a little too predictable.

Cédric Benson, a real star in every sense of the word, died Saturday night in a tragic motorcycle accident in the hills of West Austin.

At 36 years old.

But the impressive running back Longhorns was always in a hurry to go somewhere and did not always follow the safest or best prescribed route. He did things his way and encountered his problems as he did his so-called forwards: Face-to-face.

And all too often, he paid the price. Saturday, the ultimate.

It was a young man who arrived in our city with as much fanfare as one would expect from a high school football superstar in Midland Lee, who scored 15 touchdowns in just three league games . It's a career for most players, but three games for Benson.

And he also found glory in Austin, rushing on 5,540 yards to get into the same company as Earl Campbell and Ricky Williams before embarking on a professional career as a first-round pick from a team of Chicago Bears who historically personified the same hardness. he has exhibited all his years.

Benson won the Doak Walker Award as the country's best running back in 2004. He did not win the Heisman Trophy like the other two Longhorns, but he was just as good. And deserving. Few have run for 1000 yards the four seasons of their college career. Few crushed as many tacklers as him. He was cautious in the lives of his defenders with stiff and fearless arms.

He was hard. He was sturdy. He played with a ferocity that few others have. He held nothing back and that is how he lived his tragically short life.

In fact, the problems seemed to find Benson more often than he thought, whether he was looking for it or not.

This has resulted in frequent law clashes, out-of-the-field incidents and a career in the NFL that has also been interrupted by injuries. In one of his many appearances at the courthouse, it was revealed that he had been unable to recite part of the alphabet to an arresting officer because he had stated that he "could not because I played eight seasons in the NFL".

Maybe he did not think directly Saturday night. Or think at all, because he's embraced recklessness.

When he defended himself after one of his precious Rottweiler dogs attacked and injured a young woman, our courthouse reporter, Ryan Autullo, saw both sides of his complex personality.

Autullo mentions how much Benson had been engaging in their friendly conversations. Yet the day his trial took place in American Statesman, it's Benson, angry, who accused him.

EXTENDED COVER: Cedric Benson in photos, over the years

"He walked towards me with a goal," recalls Autullo. "We had a picture of him being attacked by Troy Polamalu, and he asked," Why would you want to post a picture of my wound? "It's not really a bad point, I told him, I do not know how angry he was or if he just wanted to let off steam, but he was angry."

He played crazy. And he lived crazy.

Benson used to be in an audience room. He had been charged twice with impaired driving and once driving while intoxicated, but he was never sentenced on any of those occasions. Always on the edge.

Benson always seemed to have a lot more to offer, but always seemed to be trying to rush and not always use the best common sense. He never seemed to find peace. Or want it. That was part of his motivation.

He was still pushing, whether it was legal limitations or stack on the football field.

EXTENDED COVER: Cedric Golden writes from Cedric Benson

Cedric Benson has always been a personal favorite. He had one of those irrepressible smiles that would light up a room and he always had a little wink of a mischievous eye when you were in his presence, as he had his own little private joke.

When I showed up at his locker for the NFC championship game where his Bears manhandled the New Orleans Saints, he lit up like a schoolboy and we talked for half an hour. We still visited Miami Super Bowl Week 41 in 2007, which was not like the Bears.

As would often be the case in his too short life, Benson suffered a knee injury in the first quarter, lost a fumble on one of his two staves and missed the rest of the game.

Attending a match – or a life – was not Benson's way.

He crushed it. And himself in the process.

Drama always followed him and he made as many headlines on the pitch as he did.

He has always been a little too honest, too honest for his own good. None of us will ever forget his direct answer to the question on ESPN Radio whether he would rather beat Oklahoma or win the Heisman. Cedric pondered the dilemma and answered as only Benson could.

"Personally, I would say that I would rather win the Heisman Trophy. Because there is a lot to win with a football game. You know, if I could win the football game entirely by myself, offensive and defense, deflated kick returns, kickoffs, goals, all, I would take the win against OU. But for me personally, the hard work that I accomplished while growing up and the dream I had, I would love nothing more than winning the Heisman. "

But the same week, when I asked him if he was taking the Heisman to the national championship title, given the choice, Benson replied, "A national championship by far. It's the best thing in school, a ring that says you're # 1. "

He was # 1 in candor.

I then defended him for his honesty and I wrote that most university players would probably prefer Heisman but that very few would have responded in the same way. Benson is not afraid of the reaction. He could take the trouble. In shame, too many things were self-inflicted.

In many ways, it was more promising than production. But oh the potential that he had.

EXTENDED COVERAGE: Mack Brown reacts to the announcement of Cedric Benson's death

Benson crashed on the football field, but that was the easiest part.

"He has always been at the forefront," said John Butler, who has made friends with Benson.

"It makes me so sad after having buried Lam (Jones in March)," said Butler, who started teaching at the University of Texas in 1974 as one of three black teachers on the campus. "It does not mean anything. Cedric was part of the family for me. Just a huge loss. "

We'll miss you, Cedric.