By Stampeders.com staff

Almeta Claybrooks wasn’t about to let her lack of football knowledge stop her from becoming a coach for her grandson.

“She went out and bought the book Football For Dummies,” explained DeVone Claybrooks, “and then she called my coach and asked him, ‘What drills does DeVone have to do to improve as a football player?’ We had a big backyard, so she took me out there and put me through all those drills.”

On the day of the Stampeders’ 25th annual It’s a Snap football seminar for women, Claybrooks has no trouble recalling the role his grandmother played in his career and his life.

“Sometimes, we would have practice at 5:30 in the morning,” chuckled Claybrooks. “My grandmother made sure I was there at 5. There was no one else there at that time and I would ask, ‘Why are we here so early?’ But she got me there and she would sit through all the practices.”

Almeta would take note, too. Especially when the coach would admonish Claybrooks.

“Then later, when she was putting me through the drills, she would say, ‘Isn’t that what your coach was yelling at you about the other day?’ ” said Claybrooks. “I mean, she really didn’t know a thing about football, but she watched closely and she tried to do whatever she could to make sure I was doing what I was supposed to be doing.”

Many of the lessons learned that Almeta administered fell into the category of tough love. Like the time in high school when DeVone warned to keep up his grades or he would be benched.

“She told me that if I had two C’s on my report card,” the Stampeders defensive line coach recalled, “I wouldn’t be able to play.”

Claybrooks was a good student, so the grade standard didn’t appear to present any problems. Then, disaster struck in the kitchen.

“I burned a cake in home-ec class,” said Claybrooks, “so that was my second C.”

The troops immediately mobilized to try and get the young star — though he grew up to be a hefty defensive lineman, Claybrooks actually played tailback in high school — on the field. Claybrooks’ grandfather thought he would be able to change his wife’s mind, but after a long and noisy debate behind closed doors, Almeta Claybrooks firmly held her ground.

With her physical stature — “My grandmother was six-foot-one and 200-something pounds,” pointed out Claybrooks — and iron will, Almeta was a force to reckon with.

Then came a campaign among coaches and teachers to give Claybrooks a chance to earn extra credit in home economics and bump up his grade. A conference was called with Almeta.

“My grandmother came in, served everyone sweet tea, and before anyone could say a word, she said, ‘If you do anything to change DeVone’s grade, not only will he not play in this game, he won’t play any game in any sport,’ ” said Claybrooks. “It was very important to her that her grandson didn’t get any special treatment just because he happened to be able to play a sport.”

So with his grandmother firmly dug in, Claybrooks didn’t play in the big game.

“I don’t think I talked to her for the next four weeks,” he said.

Claybrooks would eventually see the wisdom of his grandmother’s position, but it took a while. And there would be more difficult lessons along the way. Like the time at East Carolina University when Claybrooks learned to his chagrin that his sporadic attendance at classes was being logged.

Claybrooks was lectured by his coach, but he knew he was in real trouble when his grandparents showed up on campus.

“My grandmother said, ‘Apparently, he’s not an adult so we’re here to take him to all of his classes,’ ” said Claybrooks.

Even when Claybrooks made it to the National Football League and was making a big-league salary, Almeta continued to loom large in her grandson’s life. Claybrooks was kept on a tight budget and while his teammates drove new luxury vehicles, he was forced to keep driving a beat-up Nissan Maxima.

“That car would literally smoke,” said Claybrooks. “You’d have to keep cologne in the car and spray it on yourself when you got to where you were going (to tame the smell of exhaust fumes). Whenever we had a lineman night, Warren Sapp would call me and say, ‘Don’t bother driving — we’ll come pick you up.’ ”

Claybrooks may have bristled at his grandmother’s stern and strict — and stubborn — methods but today, many years later, he realizes she was right all along.

“I give her a lot of credit for being the person I am today,” he said.