The Harrington Family Foundation

MIAMI - The night melted into mourning, just as Dolphins quarterback Joey Harrington knew it inevitably would.

As the life of his grandfather, a man who molded an entire family, faded during the early part of that day in March 2002, it would be just a few hours later when Harrington's career as a professional quarterback would begin to unfold.

"He died the same day I worked out at the NFL combine,'' said Harrington, who awed scouts with his sharp passes and sharper mind during that three-day tryout for NFL teams.

No death, as the quarterback will tell you, could be considered timely or appropriate. Not when it was Bernie Harrington, a former star football player himself at the University of Portland in the early 1940s.

Not when it was his grandpa, a man who inspired him with his pep talks during Thursday phone calls in the fall. Perhaps, however, in some strange way, Bernie Harrington's passing was as fitting as it could have been.

"It was a perfect ending for the football relationship that my grandfather and I had,'' Harrington said.

Harrington's grandfather saw Joey thrive as a star in college at the University of Oregon. The years afterward, however, the ones spent as a professional for the Detroit Lions, might have been better off missed by a man who enjoyed so much seeing his grandson happy.

A LIGHTNING ROD

Because even though Harrington is starting on Sunday for the Dolphins with a refreshed outlook on his career - albeit as Daunte Culpepper's indefinite replacement - the previous four seasons with the Lions were downright dreadful. Even for someone as perennially optimistic as Harrington.

"It was incredibly frustrating,'' said Harrington, who started his career with 12 touchdowns and 16 interceptions as a rookie. "We had a team that was, on paper, supposed to be very talented and very successful. And we didn't put things together. And when we didn't put them together, people started to point fingers.''

Those fingers were pointed directly at the quarterback, the one drafted third overall by the Lions in the 2002 draft. High expectations in a city drowned by losing never were met.

Fans and media - and eventually even his teammates - blamed inexcusable mental mistakes, poor footwork and constant on-field confusion for Harrington's falters. Most baffling to him, however, they blamed his upbeat personality.

"I couldn't figure it out,'' he said. "I was being criticized for thinking we could get better. It's something I could never really figure out, to be perfectly honest.''

Suddenly, the player known for playing the piano as well as he threw a football had been dubbed "Joey Blue Skies.'' And it wasn't a compliment.

During his second season in Detroit - where Harrington says the two toughest jobs are "the quarterback of the Lions and the goalie of the Red Wings'' - his quarterback rating ranked 30th out of 32 quarterbacks in the NFL.

Harrington, to this day, has said he remained optimistic and stable throughout the years, but his father knows something was missing. That spark wasn't as prevalent. The fun wasn't as noticeable.

"It was very difficult for him,'' said Harrington's father, John, who currently lives in Portland, Ore. "Maybe the most difficult part, it sucked some of that fun for the game, that enthusiasm for competition that Joey always had in him. He was in a no-win situation, and it affected his fun for the game.''

His days of glory as a college quarterback, when, as a finalist for the Heisman Trophy, his picture was draped across a 10-story billboard in Times Square, were long forgotten.

Those were the days that kept his grandfather going before he eventually died at 81, Harrington said.

Those glory days had been replaced by chants. Chants that will forever stick in Harrington's head, chants that disgust and frustrate him as much as anything can rattle someone of such optimism.

It happened exactly one year ago today. Harrington had completed 17 of 28 passes for 202 yards - an average day for an NFL quarterback. But the Carolina Panthers' offense charged in the closing minutes to escape with a 21-20 victory.

"As I walked off the field, there were probably 25,000 people who were chanting, `Joey sucks,' '' Harrington said. "It was the most humiliating thing. It was something I never even believed would have ever happened to anybody.''

It's something Harrington remains glad his grandfather didn't have to witness. But there is something different these days. And it all began last week, Harrington's father said.

A REBIRTH

In Harrington's first start with the Dolphins, his first game back since being traded from the franchise he was supposed to turn around, Harrington looked alive, John Harrington said. He looked - like those days as that vibrant superstar college kid when optimism was praised rather than tormented - as if he were having fun again.

"This last ball game, I started to see the glimmer again,'' Harrington's father said. "He was popping around there like he used to do. That's all I care about. To see him get back to where he was some years ago.''

Harrington finished the game 26 of 41 for 232 yards. Beyond the statistics, however, teammates also noticed the optimism.

They saw for themselves "Joey Blue Skies'' in action. And this time, it was widely accepted.

"That's one thing I always know about Joey - no matter when it's good or bad, Joey always has a smile on his face,'' tight end Randy McMichael said. "I always respect that, because I'm right across in the huddle, so I get to see him more than anybody. It's just fun to look at that smile.''

"Joey Blue Skies,'' indeed. He has yet to prove anything with the Dolphins. Yet to win a game for them. Yet to have an outstanding performance, even. But at least, he said, there is hope. Hope from those around him he hasn't seen in years.

"I thought about my grandfather a lot when things were going so poorly,'' Harrington admitted. "And I continue to think about him, when I feel like maybe this isn't when you doubt yourself. I think he would be proud of me. He always was.''

If only he could see him now.

"Oh, he's watching,'' said Harrington, the perennial smile returning to his face. "I know he's always watching, whether I'm playing football or not. That's part of what keeps me going. I know he's watching.''