As players somberly gobbled their final postseason pizza of the football season in the hallway of the UNI-Dome last week, Royston English left the UMaine locker room, eyes cast downward, and began to hobble.

There’s an important word in that sentence, you know. It’s a word that tells all you need to know. And it’s the word that many people seem to have forgotten when they talk about the former workhorse running back.

He hobbled.

Even before the Bears boarded their chartered jet bound for Bangor, the whispers had started.

Scared, people said. No guts, mouthed others who had never put on pads and carried a swarm of 300-pounders on their backs.

He could have played. He should have played. He’ll have to live with this for the rest of his life.

That’s what people were saying. You probably heard it, too.

And it’s not fair.

He hobbled, folks. An hour after his Black Bears had been eliminated from postseason competition, he was still hobbling.

Ever since he arrived at Maine, Royston English has puzzled those close to the football program. Some even took to calling him (behind his back, of course) The Enigma.

The dictionary definition: (n) A perplexing, baffling or seemingly inexplicable matter or person.

Royston English may be just that.

He’s a guy who often laughed as rugged behemoths tried to tear his head off on the field.

He’s a guy who emerged as a Black Bear star, but who showed absolutely no interest in talking about it.

Turn on a camera, and English tensed up. Ask for a minute for an interview and after a quick grimace, he’d give it to you, politely, respectfully … and painfully.

Want a better picture of the man: In his apartment, he says, there is exactly one photograph.

It shows him, as a baby.

“I’m not the kind of guy who likes looking at pictures of himself,” he said, softly.

In the interest of full disclosure, you ought to know that English wasn’t big on conditioning. He figured if he could gain the tough yards and knock people on their backsides, his ability to complete a series of preseason sprints shouldn’t matter.

So when he limped around Orono in the week before the game, people just dismissed him. “Royston’s Royston,” one teammate said.

“I’m an experienced Royston-handler,” coach Jack Cosgrove said, after cautioning that anyone who wrote about his star running back’s ailment could be making a bit of a mistake.

“They probably need to talk to me before they talk to Royston, or talk to a trainer,” Cosgrove said.

After the game, the coach was still figuratively scratching his head.

“It surprised me,” Cosgrove said after the game. “Maybe nothing should surprise me.”

And it’s comments like that, from the likeable, straightforward Cosgrove that unintentionally left English open to the whispers.

For four years, English’s perceived disinterest kept landing him in the doghouse, and his gritty power running kept allowing him to escape it.

No guts? Believe this: It took more guts for English to step aside on Saturday than it would to have played when he wouldn’t have helped a bit.

After the game, English … painfully … granted another interview. He talked about his injury. And he looked to the future of the team he’ll leave.

“I just hope they’re in the same shoes that we were,” he said, hesitating as he realized how that sounded.

“Not injury-wise, but playoff-wise,” he said.

Then he said goodbye and hobbled on, oblivious to the whispers.

John Holyoke is a NEWS sportswriter. His e-mail address is jholyoke@bangordailynews.net