June 19, 2008.

Tavarres King got the text message while sitting in his speech communication class at about 10 a.m. He jumped up, slightly panicked, and said he had to leave.

“I’m about to have my little girl,” he told the professor.

He ran across campus, excited and sweating in the Southern summer heat.

The wide receiver from Baldwin then drove an hour in his Chevy Avalanche to Northeast Georgia Hospital in Gainesville.

By 3:30 that same day, King held his daughter McKenzie in his arms.

“I’m holding her and looking and you can’t help but cry,” said Tavarres, who, at the time, was a month shy of being 18. “There’s that saying, ‘There’s no greater love than the love one has for his child,’ and that’s really true and I didn’t realize that until that moment … I’m holding her and I’m looking at her and I’m like, ‘Goodness. This is crazy.’ I didn’t realize that until then. But that day was probably one of the best days of my life — really.”

It was a day that would define King’s life — in and out of the classroom, on and off the football field — from that point forward.

* * *

McKenzie lives in Baldwin, Ga., about a 45-minute drive from campus. She stays at her grandmother’s home most days, from 9:30 in the morning to 6 in the evening, before her working mother comes to pick her up. At 3 years old, she likes to strut in high heels, her pocketbook clutched by her side and her toy cell phone gripped in her hand. Tavarres and his mother, Sarita Davidson, both call her “a diva.” Sarita calls her “outgoing” and “a little social butterfly.” Tavarres’ teammates use similar words to describe him: outgoing,  talkative, funny, goofy, social.

McKenzie enjoys driving wildly in her Barbie jeep (working radio turned on) on Sarita’s driveway and into the front lawn. She plays word and number games with her grandmother, the woman who raised Tavarres, before running to the backyard to her bright yellow plastic slide. She piles her beloved baby dolls neatly in the corner of her room, the same room her father grew up in, now painted pink. Pictures of Tavarres line the walls of her room and are scattered throughout the house, both framed and meticulously placed in albums. When Tavarres still lived in this house just a few years ago, Sarita collected all the pictures and newspaper clippings documenting her son’s record-breaking high school football career and made scrapbooks for each year.

McKenzie can recognize her father on television, in his No. 12 jersey, though has been too young to attend any of his regular season games. Tavarres goes back to Baldwin once or twice every week during the spring and summer terms, but football season makes these visits more difficult to schedule. He calls his daughter almost every day and they Skype regularly. They meet in Commerce, a town between Athens and Baldwin, to eat dinner sometimes. Tavarres said he wants to be physically present in McKenzie’s life now and in the future.

“I think they just want that person to be around and to love them,” Tavarres said. “It’s not about the tricycle or the bike or the Barbie jeep or the Barbie car, which she has all of those, but it’s not about that. It’s about being there and being around her and building that relationship with her.”

Tavarres’ presence is felt in the house though he moved out in January 2008 to begin college and to begin figuring out how to be a father, how to build that relationship, and how to be an NCAA football player at the same time.

* * *

By the time Tavarres graduated from high school, he had broken school and state records. He finished his senior season with 1,632 receiving yards and 17 touchdowns.

Tavarres gave his verbal commitment to Georgia in May 2007. He considered Clemson, where his biological father, Anthony King, played before competing in the NFL as a tight end.

But Tavarres opted for the 45-minute drive home and for the team who approached him first during recruiting. He graduated early and on the honor roll — both goals his stepfather encouraged.

“I always told him, as long as he was on the honor roll in high school, he didn’t have to cut grass. So, he does not know how to crank a lawnmower at all,” said Brian Davidson, who owns a beer and wine store and a financial services company in Baldwin. “That was one of the things I told him, if you’re going to be a good student and a smart man, then you don’t need to do the stuff that I have to do around the house.”

Tavarres feels it is his time at Georgia. He now thinks of himself as a teacher and a leader on the field. His senior year of high school, he caught 99 passes. His college freshman season, he caught two. Tavarres joined a deep receiving corps in 2008, including A.J. Green, who was taken by the Cincinnati Bengals in the NFL Draft this year.

“I’ve been here four years and I really felt it was my time to step up and be a guy that not only my coaches can depend on, but so can my teammates,” Tavarres said, referring to his work in practices leading up to the 2011 season.

* * *

Tavarres’ last year of high school was difficult.

His mother faced some dire health problems, including a small brain tumor. She retired early because of it. Then, in the fall of 2007, Tavarres received and shared the news that he was going to be a father. His mother viewed the timing as a blessing, a possible last chance for her to have a grandchild.

Sarita is in better health now, having undergone treatment. She remains thankful for her granddaughter, but notes how surprising and taxing that period of time was for her.

“Well, my first reaction to be honest — I was heartbroken. Because you teach them everything and you think that you’ve taught them everything because I never tried to hide anything from my children,” Sarita said. “So when that came to me, I was absolutely shocked and heartbroken. But afterward, she is the best thing ever. I wouldn’t trade her for all the tea in China, for all the money in the world.”

Sarita prepared Brian for a serious talk with their son. He feared his stepson injured, not a grandchild.

After hearing the news, Brian was shocked like Sarita, yet relieved simultaneously. He knew that their family could handle the challenge.

Brian and John Eason, Georgia’s director of player development, spoke about Tavarres becoming a father. Eason helped assuage some of Brian’s worries before he decided the best course of action with his son.

“[Eason said] it’s very important [for Tavarres] to be a dad and be in [McKenzie’s] life and be able to communicate with the mother. And he said that in most cases, fatherhood would make the football player better because it gave him more of a reason to try to excel,” Brian said. “So, he really gave me some calming advice and I appreciated it because I didn’t know where to start.”

Tavarres feels a strong bond with Brian and refers to him as his father — not stepfather. Brian, who met Sarita while they both worked as correctional officers at a prison in Alto, Ga., stepped into that role when Tavarres was around 2 years old.

Brian has missed only two games — one against Rabun County Middle School and one at Arkansas Tavarres’ sophomore year at Georgia. He attended every high school football practice until Tavarres got a car. And now on some Tuesdays, he drives the stretch of 441 to Athens and back by himself so he can watch his son practice from the sidelines.

After Brian and the rest of the family heard the news, they made a plan.

Tavarres graduated early from high school, enrolled at Georgia in January 2008 and moved to Athens. McKenzie, born that June, stayed in Baldwin with her mother, Kristi Armour. Tavarres has a friendly relationship with Kristi, though they are no longer a couple.

When McKenzie’s mother works during the day, Sarita watches after her granddaughter.

Tavarres appreciates his mother’s commitment to him and his daughter. Her love and passion directed him as a child and continues to do so now that he’s a father.

“She would guide you and she showed me how to care for somebody, how to love someone,” Tavarres said. “And she’s still showing me that today. She’s showing me how to care for and love for your kid like no other and that’s what I’m doing with my daughter.”

* * *

McKenzie has stayed with her father in Athens a few weekends throughout the past three years.

She has nicknames for her dad’s four roommates.

Greg Lanier is “B-wee,” meaning “boy with ears.” Senior center Ben Jones is “Uncle Fat.” Redshirt sophomore wide receiver Rhett McGowen is “Rhett-atouille,” like the children’s cartoon movie. Redshirt sophomore running back Brandon Harton is “Short Man,” referring to his 5-foot-6 frame. Considering McKenzie’s age, her father has, of course, influenced these nicknames.

His roommates see the similarities between father and daughter.

“She’s kind of a clown, too,” Harton said.

“She’s just like her daddy,” Lanier said.

Sarita sees the resemblance as well.

Tavarres said moving away from his family and beginning college as a father was challenging. The college football life and schedule didn’t become easier — just more manageable.

“It’s extremely tough. My mother and I talked about it last night. It’s hard because nobody knows … In the general population of the school, nobody knows what kind of day a football player has,” Tavarres said. “You might wake up, go to study hall, eat breakfast, go to class, eat lunch, practice, watch film, dinner. Then it’s 8:30, 9 o’clock. … I got that, then I got to make time for my daughter and my family, which gets tough.”

Junior cornerback Branden Smith does know and understand that. His daughter, Leiah, was born Jan. 18 of this year. He also raced out of Athens early in the morning and missed his classes in order to make it to the birth.

He also wants to be in his daughter’s life, but appreciates how much Leiah’s mother takes care of her on a day-to-day basis. He goes through the same strenuous practice and class schedule that Tavarres does. When he found out he was going to be a father, Smith approached Tavarres for some perspective.

“I asked him, ‘How (does) it feel? He said, ‘At first, you’re kind of shaky, kind of scared, because you know, you don’t know what to expect,’ basically. But as the days go by and stuff, you just start getting excited and you just start taking on that role of being a good father,” Smith said. “I’m really just trying to follow his footsteps of being a better father like him and just managing school too, as he do.”

Smith feels more motivation to earn his degree now that he is a father, a sentiment Tavarres agrees with. Tavarres also feels more determined to succeed in football and in classes. And his coaches encourage this thinking.

“I think I made like a B minus on a test or something and [Coach Eason] texted me and said, ‘How are you going to tell your daughter to make good grades if you make a B minus?’” Tavarres recalled. “It really motivates me that I’m doing things for somebody more than myself. It motivates me to get my degree, to bust my hump everyday on the field. When I’m lifting weights, I just think about her.”

Tavarres is scheduled to graduate next May with a degree in social studies education and wants to teach high school. He’ll have his field experience this fall and student-teach in the spring, which he said he looks forward to.

The career fits in with his personality, according to his teammates.

McGowen said it seems like, “He knows everybody in Athens.” His stepfather said Tavarres has “never met a stranger.” Smith sees Tavarres as a teacher already for the team, particularly younger players.

“As an older guy or what not, people start to think they not going to teach the freshmen because they might come in and take their position, but Tavarres, he don’t think like that. He’s helping them out 24/7, whatever they need,” Smith said.

* * *

Sarita said she is excited but nervous about the upcoming season. Football season is nerve-racking for players’ mothers, she explained. She joked she will have to have an IV drip for the first game of the season against Boise State on September 3. Brian is counting down the days, hours and minutes to kickoff in anticipation for Tavarres’ senior season.

As for McKenzie, she has been too young to attend games in the past, but did come to this year’s G-day game. Her grandparents said she may be able to come to a few games this season.

In any case, she’ll wear red and black on game days and support her father in complex ways, unbeknownst to her.

“It means everything. Being a father, you have to be extremely accountable. In my eyes, I know that everything I do is not just for me,” Tavarres said. “That’s what being a father is to me, knowing that with every decision  you make, you’re not only affecting yourself, you’re affecting your child.”