Penncrest's Jerry Boyer still beating the odds
DORITA BOYER cries in the stands when she watches her son Jerry play football. She can't help it. It brings her back to the times in the neonatal intensive care unit, looking down at Jerry's tiny chest rapidly pounding, praying that this one lives. She thinks back when Jerry would curl his tiny hand around the tip of her index finger each time she poked it through the incubator.

DORITA BOYER cries in the stands when she watches her son Jerry play football. She can't help it. It brings her back to the times in the neonatal intensive care unit, looking down at Jerry's tiny chest rapidly pounding, praying that this one lives. She thinks back when Jerry would curl his tiny hand around the tip of her index finger each time she poked it through the incubator.
Jerry looks at the pictures today and he wants to cry. He can't believe the infant in the photograph swaddled in cotton and tape, with breathing tubes running from his nose, was once him - all 2 pounds, 7 ounces. It's hard to believe, because the 5-10, 200-pound Penncrest High junior tailback/linebacker is a wrecking machine, pound-for-pound one of the strongest players in Delaware County, and a leading reason the Lions are off to such a historic start this season.
Jerry Boyer considers himself blessed and lucky. Dorita can't help but look at Jerry as a gift. He is the only surviving child of Dorita's four children - all born premature. His older brother was stillborn and never given a name. His two older sisters, Letisha and Angelica, didn't survive. Letisha died 3 hours after she was born. She weighed 14 ounces. Angelica lived longer, though she weighed 1 pound, 4 ounces when she was born, and died Dec. 28, 1991, just 10 days shy of her second birthday. And 2 years ago, Jerry lost his father, Jerry Sr., to pneumonia.
"Yes, you can say I've been through hell," said Dorita, a local merchandiser. "The tough part was every single day being pregnant with Jerry was scary. You never know. That's why I say he's my gift, and a gift from God. Maybe that's why I cry some games.
"When his father first mentioned that he wanted Jerry playing football when he was 4, there was no way I was going to let my baby play. Now look at him. He's lucky to be alive. Every time I watch him play, I get emotional, because of what he's been through. I'm just so proud of him; he's still my little peanut."
The little peanut his teammates happen to call "Hammer," because of how he slams through opponents, both on offense and defense. Dorita also calls him "Hammer," because "he hammered his way into the world. I was in labor for 2 days and felt like he was going to be 10 pounds."
In three of Penncrest's first four games, Jerry has rushed for 290 yards and two touchdowns. He had 15 tackles in a 14-0 season-opening victory over Strath Haven, the Lions' first victory over the area power since 1987. In a 37-21 loss to Garnet Valley, the top-ranked team in the Daily News Delco 7, Jerry had 13 tackles and rushed for 75 yards. He missed the Haverford High game with a toe injury, but came back to gain a career-best 110 yards and had 12 tackles in a 22-19 come-from-behind victory over Springfield on Friday.
He has made himself into a special player. Jerry can bench-press 275 pounds for four reps, and squats 405 for six reps. He's a high school version of Earl Campbell.
"Jerry has power and speed, he's a special player and has been a huge part of our success," Penncrest coach Paul Graham said. "Jerry makes the people around him better. The kids believe in Jerry. As a whole, we have good kids on this team, on and off the field, but Jerry really stands out. And after finding out about his personal story, I can see why."
Of course, Jerry doesn't remember the first few months he was alive, but he's very familiar with his own backstory. His brother and Letisha were cremated, but he used to visit Angelica's grave with his mom when he was a child and point to her headstone, in Union Hill Cemetery in Kennett Square, where his father now lies, "that's Boobie, mommy," Dorita's nickname for Angelica.
Sometimes Jerry feels like nothing can stop him on a football field. He's armed with special ammunition.
"There is something that drives me; my father's death, but I look at everything that's happened to me, everything my mother's been through, that's a heck of a lot of motivation," Jerry said. "Everything I do, I do for my mom and dad.
"But I have a tough time looking at that photo album. It's hard to think that that was me. That's beating the odds right there. Those pictures want to make me cry, because looking at how small I was then, and looking at me now, I barely made it.
"Thinking about what my mom went through and what my brother and sisters went through, that's what I think about. I shouldn't be here and think how blessed I am to be on this earth. But God smiled and said this would be the one; I was the one who made it. Now I have to make it for my mom." *
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