SANTA CLARA The rules of "Kill the Man with the Football" aren't complicated. You throw the ball to one of the other players, and everyone else tries to tackle him before he makes it to the other side of the yard. Win and you get to sit out a play. Lose and you find yourself face down at the bottom of a sweaty dogpile.
It was in that rough-and-tumble backyard crucible with all the childhood politics that come when revered older cousins are in town that Kentwan Balmer made perhaps his greatest tackle.
The 9-year-old Balmer not only was the youngest of four brothers. He also was the youngest of his cousins. And to make matters worse he was, well
"Hey, Kentwan, I hear you were a bit chubby when you were little."
"A bit chubby?" Balmer replied. "Man, I was fat."
So much so that he wasn't "Kentwan" to his cousins. They called him "Jelly" and used him as a bicycle ramp. Up to that point, "Jelly" was a joke.
This, however, is the story of how "Jelly" became Kentwan again.
Balmer grew up in tiny Weldon, N.C., a town 10 miles down Interstate 95 from the Virginia border. The Balmers' extended family is scattered across the tidewater plains of both states.
One of his cousins is Shaun Stevenson, who is three years older and now lives in Norfolk, Va. Back in their "Kill the Man with the Football" days, Stevenson fancied himself a Walter Payton type a quick-stepping runner with sweet moves.
Stevenson had the ball one day and thought he was in the clear when wham! he was leveled by what seemed like a massive bowling ball shot from a cannon.
"He came out of nowhere," Stevenson recalled in a phone interview. "He put the 'Jelly' on me, I guess you could say."
Being upstaged by your younger cousin was bad enough. More than a decade later, he still hasn't lived it down. But Stevenson also emerged from the collision with a knot growing from the center of his forehead.
Balmer remembers it as a "unicorn horn." Stevenson said it was like something out of a cartoon.
Stevenson said his opinion of Balmer and that of all the eight or nine cousins on hand changed that afternoon.
"When you're a little cousin, you're in awe of your bigger cousins," Stevenson said. "That's the first time he ever got the edge on me. I remember I had respect for him from that point on."
Balmer didn't remain the "little cousin" in stature for long, either. He grew tall 6-foot-5 and became a basketball star who led 300-student Weldon High School to the 1-A state championship game his senior season. When he left for Chapel Hill in 2004, however, he was set on playing football.
John Blake, who coached the defensive line last year at North Carolina and helped shape Balmer into a first-round prospect, said it was easy to tell Balmer grew up with older siblings.
"He could get very mean," Blake said. "I think that's one of the things he had to control. When he'd get a cheap shot in practice, he'd take it a little personally. He made sure he didn't get one again."
The fight in Balmer who is sweet-natured off the field is what prompted the 49ers to draft him 29th overall. It's still early, and Balmer and his teammates have yet to have a full-contact practice, but the 49ers like what they've seen.
The team says Balmer has the quickness to play defensive end in its 3-4 scheme and the tenacity to line up at nose tackle. The rookie received perhaps the highest of compliments when cornerback Nate Clements viewed as the 49ers' hardest worker noted Balmer's work ethic during a recent radio interview.
Balmer says that ethic comes from his parents.
His mother, Christa, worked two jobs when he was growing up and is now a prison guard in Jarratt, Va. His father, Charles, has been a long-haul truck driver for 20 years.
"She's always worked, and I have, too," said Charles, who was reached last week while hauling steel beams to Ohio.
On draft day, Kentwan Balmer knew the right people to thank, assembling his parents, coaches and cousins including Stevenson at the football stadium in Chapel Hill.
Stevenson said he and Balmer shared a few laughs over the unicorn horn story, and a few days after that Balmer related it to the Bay Area media.
Stevenson used to be embarrassed by it. Now he tells it with pride.
"I was telling him on draft day, 'At least you grew up to become a first-round draft pick,' " he said. "Now I don't have to feel as bad about it."
Read Matthew Barrows' 49ers blog at www.sacbee.com/blogs.




