The Harrington Family Foundation

ALLEN PARK -- For Joey Harrington, the sky is still mostly blue, the outlook mostly clear. He says he still knows exactly who he is and where he’s headed. He harbors not a shred of doubt that he can lead the Lions and become a winning NFL quarterback.

But probe a little deeper and you hit the nerve, the one he rarely exposes, the one frayed by failure. As he struggled to fit on a team, in a league, in a city, Harrington hid his frustration well.

Now, on an improved offense, in front of restless fans, as his pivotal third season nears, he knows it’s time to reveal more of who he is, and what he can become.

“You ever been booed by 68,000 people?” he said abruptly, near the end of a cordial conversation.

Uh, no. Chuckle.

“Don’t laugh,” he said. “I’m absolutely dead serious. Don’t laugh. It’s not fun. It hurt, I admit that.”

What followed was an uncomfortable pause, and then the question that can be asked only after pounding adversity, after an 8-24 record, after stinging (and sometimes unfair) criticism of a quarterback prematurely anointed the centerpiece of a troubled franchise.

Have you been hardened by what has happened here?

“Yeah, I have,” Harrington said, squinting into the sun after practice. “It’s been tougher than I thought. Maybe I’ve gotten thicker skin, become calloused, however you want to put it. I feel I’m more ready to deal with whatever’s thrown at me now. Anybody can be an upbeat person in a good situation. But when things don’t go well, how do you fight back?”

In case you were wondering, Harrington is fighting back, showing more command of the offense, demanding more from teammates, maybe demanding more of himself. It has been noticeable to players. It has been noticeable to a head coach who endorses his starter with caution, waiting to see more.

From happy-happy days at Oregon to muddled-muddled days in Detroit, Harrington has tried to navigate a ridiculously rough transition. Somewhere — whether it’s his self-described “dorky” personality that doesn’t always mesh with Lions fans, or his halting development — something got lost in the translation, or in the transition.

More than ever, Harrington seems determined to fix it, to stop blithely blending in and start standing out.

“I think Joey’s maturing, and I do think he’s grown a couple of layers of thicker skin,” Steve Mariucci said. “He’s gone through two years of bumps and bruises and now he’s really becoming a leader, somebody I think we can trust.”

Harrington isn’t starring but is evolving, and it started late last season, capped by a stirring final victory over St. Louis. He demanded to stay in the game after Mariucci planned to sit him the second half because of a twisted ankle.

Tough transition

It was a rare flair from Harrington, who needs to develop that feisty edge. For a 25-year-old from an idyllic world in Oregon where he was practically worshipped, it has not been easy.

Harrington has grappled with issues he never faced before. Can you change how you are, without changing who you are? How do you fit in without faking it?

He is different, for sure. He plays the piano. He speaks thoughtfully. He has an odd sense of humor.

“I am kind of a dork, and I’m not going to change who I am,” Harrington said. “If people accept it, or they don’t, it doesn’t matter. I feel no disconnect with the fans. The biggest thing is, we’ve been 3-13, or 5-11, or 2-90, whatever the record is. When you win, people’s perception of you changes.”

It’s an unfair generalization, but some fans’ perception of Harrington is this: Not tough enough, in his demeanor or his on-field demands. He doesn’t criticize teammates or coaches, even when they put him in impossible situations. He doesn’t take many risks in games.

Frankly, I think Harrington should be applauded for handling two of the worst seasons in Lions’ history with quiet class. Last season, the Lions dropped a league-high 58 passes. The running game was putrid. Fans sometimes booed. Harrington didn’t buckle, always adopting a cheerful postgame countenance.

A year later, he admits his optimism was a bit of a survival tactic.

“So it would have made people feel better if I had gotten beaten down?” Harrington said. “Every time I stepped on the podium after a loss, it hurt. I think we lost three games my entire college career, so I had to find the positives. Was some of it maybe putting on a face? Yeah, it was a necessity. But it’s also my personality. If someone drives my face into the dirt, I’m gonna get up the next play and try to score.

“When I walked in here, I knew it would be difficult. But had I taken one in the jaw and rolled over, I don’t think I’d still be here. When you’re told one morning you’re going to move across the country and go to a team that has won one playoff game in almost 50 years, and the city’s expectations are thrown on you, yeah, I was in over my head.”

Mystery man

The quirky glibness is still there. Harrington still talks with confidence, even slight defiance, pretty much the way he has since arriving as the celebrated third pick of the 2002 draft.

But it’s fair to say, we don’t yet know who he is, or what he is. Pathologically perky? Superficially nice? A leader? A crafty politician? Is his upbeat personality real, or forced? Is his talent real, or imagined?

Clearly, Mariucci and Matt Millen aren’t yet sure, which is why they keep backup Mike McMahon as a wild card. It’s virtually impossible to tell whether Harrington’s statistics — 29 career touchdowns, 38 interceptions — are a function of the personnel, or a clue to his own deficiencies. One national magazine ranks Harrington 30th among NFL quarterbacks.

It’s way too early to judge him that harshly, but it’s not wrong to say we need to see more. Center Dominic Raiola, one of Harrington’s best friends on the team, spent time with him in Oregon this summer and understands a little better.

“He’s like a god in Oregon, so this was a whole new world for him,” Raiola said. “I don’t think he got booed once in college. It took him a couple of years to get adjusted and now it’s like, (forget) it, let’s just go play. ... People look for reasons when you’re not winning, but he’s got a great personality. He might have held a grudge (about the criticism) because he hadn’t dealt with it before.”

Harrington doesn’t call it a grudge. True to his nature, he calls it a helpful lesson. When he stood in the huddle two years ago as a rookie, he acted as if he were sure of himself, but he wasn’t.

“I didn’t know a thing about anything and I’m looking at these guys, five, 10 years older than me,” Harrington said. “Now, I’m seeing rookies and second year guys and I have to be the leader, and that’s what I’ve wanted since I got here. I’ve known since the moment I came into the league that I can be successful. I’m ready for it.”

Subtle changes

You see it in small ways. He’s more vocal, so much so that he was hoarse early in training camp, losing his voice just as he was finally finding his voice.

You see it in larger ways, in his cool execution in two exhibition games. You see it in glimpses and you hear it in a tone that’s getting edgy, maybe even angry.

“Was I thrown to the wolves a little prematurely? Yeah, I was,” Harrington said. “But I learned some valuable things. I’ve got a good gauge now for being at the bottom. I’d never been there before, and I hate it. I don’t ever want to be in a position again where I’m vulnerable, where I feel out of control.”

He can control it now, how he’s viewed, how his career progresses. It hasn’t been easy figuring out who Joey Harrington is, or what he can become. If he dislikes being defined by others, he has a prime opportunity, starting now, to define himself.