<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?>
<BODY.CONTENT>
<UID>
8901030700
</UID>
<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
890120
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Friday, January 20, 1989
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
METRO FINAL
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
SPT
</SECTION>
<PAGE>
1D
</PAGE>
<ILLUSTRATION>
Photo Color, Photo Associated Press
</ILLUSTRATION>
<CAPTION>

</CAPTION>
<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM
</BYLINE>
<AFFILIATION>

</AFFILIATION>
<MEMO>

</MEMO>
<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 1989, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
THE ICKEY SHUFFLE: BIGGER THAN LIFE,
ON ITS BIGGEST STAGE
</HEADLINE>
<SUBHEAD>

</SUBHEAD>
<CORRECTION>

</CORRECTION>
<BODY>
MIAMI -- He will wake up Sunday morning, yawn, stretch, walk to the
bathroom and pull open the shower curtain. The camera light will blind him.

  "We're live with Ickey Woods!" the TV reporter  will bellow from under the
faucet. "Dance for us, Ickey! Whatdya say? Just a few steps?"

  He will dash out of the room and lock the door. He will join his teammates
for breakfast in the lobby. He  will grab some silverware, and lift the top
off  the tray of eggs.
  "Joining us now is dance sensation Ickey Woods!" the reporter will screech.
"We've been in this tray all night, folks! Dance for  us, Ickey? Please?"
  Wherever he goes on Super Sunday, he will hear these voices. Dance for us,
Ickey. Step one, step too. He is bigger than Chubby Checker and The Twist.
Bigger than Pee-wee Herman  and "Tequila." Ickey Woods has created the dance
sensation to sweep the nation, and it has grown from something he did to
something he is, a shadow that follows him wherever he goes.
  "LIVE FROM HIS  LOCKER, IT'S ICKEY WOODS!" the reporter will holler when
Woods reaches in for his helmet. "GOOD MORNING ICKEY! HOW ABOUT A LITTLE
SHUFFLE BEFORE THE GAME?"
  He has become a giant under a magnifying  glass. A skyscraper on top of a
mountain. He is bigger than big. Ickey Woods is This Year's Fad and everyone
wants a piece.  The Shuffle. The Ickey Shuffle. It is not so much the who (a
rookie running  back with a ponytail) or the where (along the sidelines) or
the why (because he scored a touchdown) or even the how (two steps right, two
steps left, spike the ball and wave a finger and holler "Woo,  woo, woo!").
  It is the when.
  Super Bowl. 
  Enter Ickey. Stage left.
  When did this become "American Bandstand"? Who knows? Who cares?  It was
Jim McMahon's headbands one year and Denver's Three Amigos another. And now it
is The Shuffle. A touchdown celebration. And so Woods has been surrounded by
reporters all week, asking the kind of questions that can only be asked of . .
. a dance.
  "Where did you originate it?" the reporter from Texas needs to know.
  "I just thought it up before a game one time," he says, crossing his
thickly muscled arms. "I tried it out on Rickey Dixon.  I said, 'How's this
look?'  He said, 'Yo, man. That's cool.' I said, 'I'm gonna do it when I score
today.' "
  "What does your mother think of it?" a reporter from Florida wonders.
  "She had seen  me do it and she said, 'You're not gonna do that silly dance
out there on television, are you?' But then they asked her to be in the
Oldsmobile commercial and she did it, too. Now she loves it."
 "Was it hard for her to learn?" asks the reporter from Boston.
  "Nah, my mom is an excellent dancer. She picked it up in about 10 minutes."
  The truth is, it doesn't take more than 10 seconds to learn. The truth is,
if dances were textbooks, the Ickey Shuffle would be Sally, Dick & Jane. But
this is Super Bowl week; no one cares about the truth.
  They care about entertainment. And Woods,  the Bengals' leading rusher this
season, seems destined to provide it -- no matter how hard he tries to avoid
it.
  Here is a guy -- real name Elbert --  who showed enormous promise as a
high school  prospect in Fresno, Calif., but didn't bother to fill out any
questionnaires for college recruiters. "I don't know why I didn't," he says,
shrugging, tipping the cap that  sits atop his ponytailed mane.  "I just put
them aside."
  The University of Nevada, Las Vegas pursued him anyhow. Got him, too. But
for three years, he was a backup. Some said a washout. "They told me I had an
attitude problem,"  he says, adjusting the opaque sunglasses that wrap around
his temples. "But it was them with the problem. I was practicing better than
the guys they started, but I wasn't getting a chance to start. Then  one away
game, they told me they were taking the guy behind me because he had more
experience.
  "Why should I go out  there and bust my butt every day and not be able to
work my way into the starting  lineup? It didn't make sense. So they said I
had an attitude problem."
  No problem, Ick man. Destiny has a way of handling such snags. By his
senior year, there was a coaching change; Woods became  the starter. And in
1987, he led the nation in rushing. The nation?
  The nation.
  Which got him drafted by Cincinnati. Second round. Lots of teams could have
had him. Truth is, he had no particular affection for the Bengals or their
4-11 record. But once he started playing, things went as smooth as the "Minute
Waltz." The Bengals turned it around, made the Super Bowl. Ickey gained more
than 1,000  yards. And he danced his way into highlight films, endorsements
and the American spotlight.
  Not to mention the opposing teams.
  "A lot of my opponents, especially the veterans, will say things  like,
'We're not gonna have any dancing here today, rookie.' They might stuff me
real good the first time. And they'll say, 'Better go to the other side,
rookie.' But then I'll come back and chalk off  a 10-yarder on them. And I'll
say 'Yo, baby. I'm gonna be here all day. You can't just stop me on one play.'
"
  This is how it will go  Sunday. He will kneel  with his teammates for the
pre-game  prayer. The man of the cloth will say, "Bless this team. . . . And
Elbert, perhaps you would dance for us?' "
  He will stand at attention for the national anthem, and Billy Joel, the
designated singer,  will beckon him over to the piano, booming into the
microphone: "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THERE'S A MAN IN THE AUDIENCE I WANT TO
BRING UP ON STAGE WITH ME.  . . ."
  Nothing will be normal. Nothing will  be sane. They will hunger for the
dance the way bobby-soxers once hungered for Sinatra and Presley. 
  The only problem is, he must hoof it in before he can hoof it up. It is a
touchdown celebration,  remember? And it is possible, with the San Francisco
49ers' defense, that Woods will not see an end zone Sunday. Which  means --
hold your breath, it could be true -- we may not see the old soft-cleat.
  "What if that happens?" someone asks him.
  "It won't happen," he says, staring at his million-dollar feet. "The
Shuffle will go on."
  It's got to.
  Everybody's doing it.
  Mitch Albom's  sports-talk show "The Sunday Sports Albom" will feature a
special Super Bowl post-game show Sunday night from 9 to 11 on WLLZ-FM (98.7).
CUTLINES
  Enter Ickey Woods, stage left, with the dance craze  that is sweeping the
nation.
  What if Ickey Woods, here taking it to the Bills in the AFC title game,
doesn't see the end zone Sunday? He has an answer to that challenge
</BODY>
<DISCLAIMER>

</DISCLAIMER>
<KEYWORDS>
FOOTBALL;ICKEY WOODS
</KEYWORDS>
</BODY.CONTENT>
