He doesn’t speak French in Russian.

But he’s Georgia linebacker Rennie Curran. And he’s damn interesting.

THE NFL PROSPECT

Rennie Curran isn’t getting any taller.

He’s graciously listed as 5-foot-11 in the Georgia media guide, but realistically? He’s more like 5-foot-9.

“You think about what affects you, what your weaknesses are, and if those weaknesses can be improved with another year,” Curran says. “I know my height is not going to change.”

When he speaks of another year, he’s answering questions about the possibility of leaving school after his junior season to enter the NFL draft.

The fact that Curran is undersized (at least height-wise) for the ideal NFL linebacker isn’t going anywhere.

But neither is his reputation as a guy who flies to the ball, always seems to be in the right place, and is near technical perfection. He’s the SEC’s second-leading tackler, and ESPN draft guru Mel Kiper has him as the No. 2 outside linebacker in the country among juniors.

His height is the one (supposed) question mark.

“Height and all that doesn’t really matter,” Curran says. “It’s more about technique and want-to, what you’ve got in your heart and got in your mind. There’s so much emphasis put on a couple inches … and what looks good on a stat sheet. Most people who are saying that stuff have never played football, so they want to make it into a beauty contest.”

If Curran does opt to leave school early, he’ll be entering that beauty contest, one that he dealt with while being recruited out of high school all over again. But there are plenty of other questions that will weigh on his mind too.

His 14-month-old daughter?

“It weighs down on me,” he says. “I definitely want to be able to provide for her. It’s definitely something I’m going to be thinking about when it comes time for that decision.”

Taking care of the rest of his family?

“My family, the opportunity, how many people I can help with that opportunity [are big factors],” Curran says. “If I did make it, that would be a lot of connections, I could even help people back home in Liberia. The possibilities are endless.”

This season’s rash of injuries to high-profile players, like Oklahoma quarterback Sam Bradford?

“I would be lying if I said I didn’t look at that situation and be like what if that’s me one day,” Curran says. “It’s only human to have thoughts like that.”

And, of course, Curran’s love for the Bulldogs weighs in too.

“I’m not ready to go. Emotionally, mentally, it’s crazy to think about,” he says. “It feels like I just got here, and I’m loving college and Athens. I love my teammates, every single one of them. I’d definitely miss it like crazy.”

Curran isn’t guaranteed to be a first- or second-round pick. But there’s inspiration to be drawn from past linebackers that were “too short” like Zach Thomas, London Fletcher and Sam Mills.

“I’m just going to say he better stay,” says Georgia linebackers coach John Jancek, smiling. “Print that.”

THE METAL MOUTH

Brace face, metal mouth, railroad tracks – Rennie Curran has heard them all.

You see, up until a few months ago, Curran was an anomaly: A massively built athletic specimen sporting the dastardly metal teeth straighteners that so many adolescents fear will spell the death of their social life.

“I always get flak,” Curran says, now smiling metal-free. “I got them on late, my senior year [of high school]. I’m a pretty buff guy with braces, so people automatically think you’re soft and don’t respect you as much.”

Curran’s teammates respect him. But as far as that whole flak thing…

“All. The. Time,” said linebacker Nick Williams. “We’re like Rennie, how are you that good? You’re a linebacker with braces. That ain’t very tough.”

Added linebacker Akeem Dent, laughing and trying to bite his tongue: “It kind of seemed like Rennie’s signature.”

With what he calls “my grill” now gone, Curran sports a clear retainer (think Invisalign). He’s always smiled a lot, but does so even more now.

He’s no longer a walking contradiction, but, as the man with Popeye-sized biceps puts it, “I think I pulled it off alright.”

THE FATHER

Ask Rennie Curran about his daughter and he’ll immediately light up, and ask you if you want to see pictures.

You’ll oblige, and he’ll whip out his cell phone, instead showing you a video of 14-month-old Eleana “trying to talk,” his beaming face poking into the background.

“She’s my heart,” he’ll say.

Eleana lives back in Gwinnett with her mother. Curran now spends Mondays, his one day a week without practice, with her, alternately watching film on opponents and Dora the Explorer.

“I get home, spend the whole day with her,” Curran says. “Watch film and get it all in. It’s really hard to see her, but it’s pretty fun. I love spending time with her, and she always keeps me running around and everything. It’s an awesome experience.”

Seeing Eleana is tough – there’s class to attend, homework to do, weights to lift and practice to go to. Curran is admittedly “pretty much on the go from eight in the morning to eight at night” every day.

Snellville’s only about an hour down the road, but it’s not always that easy.

“He’s a great father, and I know it’s important to him,” says linebackers coach John Jancek. “I know he wants his daughter to be raised in the right way, and in the right environment.”

Says linebacker Nick Williams: “He does what he can, he’s in college. He’s a great father. I’ve seen him with his little girl, and he’s a positive role model … It’s hard and he never complains. He just does what he has to do.”

People don’t come to college to have children. But Curran has one, and, a struggle or not, he loves his Eleana. “I’m not the normal college student, and not being able to take her out and providfe for her, it really weighs down on me,” he says, “being a father and not being able to spend that time with her because I’m in college.

THE FREAK

Rennie Curran is a freak. He benches 460 pounds and squats 615, both Georgia records.

His weight room acumen is something he developed early, and despite teammates “saying stuff like, ‘You’ve been taking steroids since you were a baby, you came out the womb like that,’” it’s not going to change.

“I started in seventh grade, working out with the linemen because they were the strongest,” Curran says. “I wanted to push myself, do 10 more pounds than the coaches wanted me to do.”

A habit that he says started when he saw how hard his parents worked has made him scary strong, with massive biceps, an eight-pack of abs you could grate cheese on, and a chest more befitting of a Roman gladiator.

“He’s a freak,” says linebacker Darryl Gamble.”

THE LIBERIAN DREAM

Rennie Curran’s left bicep is tattoed.

It’s not the usual cross, Bible verse, mom’s name or even a Georgia ‘G.’

It reads “The Liberian Dream,” and it carries a deep meaning for Curran.

You see, Curran’s family is no stranger to strife. His mother and father came to this country from Liberia in order for his mother, Josie, to get a nursing degree at Emory University in Atlanta.

Shortly thereafter, a bloody civil war broke out in the country on the west coast of Africa.

“They pretty much started helping my entire family and other people come over here to America, get their immigration, hook them up with a ticket and everything,” Curran says.

Curran’s father, Rennie, Sr., had opened his own shoe repair shop, and the younger Rennie spent his childhood with a house full of family and strangers from Liberia.

“Heritage is big for me,” he says. “I feel like I have a different outlook on life, just because of what my parents taught me and what they had to go through. You have to respect people, be humble, speak to people when you see them, little things like that. It’s taught me a lot.”

Curran’s grandfather is still the Bishop of Liberia, the head of the country’s Methodist churches. Rennie Curran grew up in a Liberian church in metro Atlanta.

“It’s like a big family,” he says. “A lot of people that knew each other from Liberia came over to Atlanta. Even if you don’t know I guy, you call him Uncle This, Uncle That. It’s real cool.”

THE ‘CUDA

They call him the ‘Cuda.

“Like barracuda,” says linebacker Nick Williams. “That’s what he plays like. He sees blood, and that’s where he goes.”

And, in fact, it wouldn’t be hard to believe if Rennie Curran really was out for blood.

He’s the SEC’s second-leading tackler with 94 (9.4 per game). He’s seemingly always there, always around the ball, always busting through the line or dropping an opposing player. He never quits.

So what sets him apart? What makes him so special, so different, so valuable?

Says linebacker Akeem Dent: “It’s just his instincts. He loves to play, he loves to get to the ball. The guy has heart.”

Linebackers coach John Jancek: “What makes Rennie so special, outside of the physical attributes, is the intangibles, the work ethic, the unselfishness. He wants to be the best, he’s very self-motivated, he’s driven, and he has the ability to focus on what’s important. That’s huge nowadays.”

Williams provides the most fitting, if not tangible, answer.

“I used to think about that, what makes him different than me,” he says. “But he’s just a special player. You can stop thinking about it, or trying to say hey, may he runs faster. No, he doesn’t run faster. He’s strong, but he’s no stronger than the next man. He’s just a player, a one in 100,000 individual. He’s a rare species of football player. I kind of stop thinking about it, like man, he’s just got it. He’s just got it.”