Jim O'Donnell: From father to son, Bagent family line is all about confidence and winning
THERE WAS A WEEKLY TV SHOW in Martinsburg, W. Va., last fall titled "Monday Night Mayhem." It aired rather modestly on Channel 10, a Comcast cable option.
The broadcast site was The Neon Moon Tavern, four miles down the road from Shepherd University. As any Bears fan right now afraid to look down can tell you, that's the Division II school where QB Tyson Bagent was sling-shotting his way over significant Shenandoah odds to the NFL.
He's 1-0 as a starter. That's almost as small a sample size as leftover "Hillary for President" signs in Bagent's home region.
Sunday night on NBC's national platform, he'll have Joey Bosa over there, and Khalil Mack over there, and Mike Tirico and Cris Collinsworth up there. The stumble-bolt Los Angeles Chargers are 8½-point favorites. But at point of entry, that's just Las Vegas sleight-of-numbers.
If Bagent and his laser release can emerge from the bright lights, big venue of Sofi Stadium at 2-0, more people will start to believe.
What they'll be believing is that he may be one of the most confident, efficient, adaptable young quarterbacks in the history of the Chicago Bears.
Justin who?
ANY REGULAR VIEWERS of "Monday Night Mayhem" - and they stretched throughout the northeastern panhandle of West Virginia - saw the brains and attitude under the hoodie on full public display. Archived presentations are available on "YouTube" (key: "monday night mayhem wrnr"; pre-December episodes are better).
Bagent was a regular. Ditto for Travis Bagent, his father and the world armwrestling champion who must have borrowed both brashness and theatrical delivery from the abiding tenets of young, prime-time Muhammad Ali.
Hosts Colin McLaughlin and Spencer DuPuis ring-mastered a multi-segment show each week. Shepherd head coach Ernie McCook was featured toward open. Bagent the QB and a teammate then came on. Finally, Travis Bagent - the confidence alpha - commanded center mic.
Young dad - now all of age 45 - is no stranger to the limelight or notable quotes.
BEFORE THE 2023 NFL DRAFT, he said: "Anyone picked before my son is a mistake. And they're gonna find that out."
Of his son's NFL worth, Bagent the family barker snapped: "He's a $40 million quarterback. They're going to realize that much sooner than later once he gets up to their big show."
His Son the Quarterback doesn't talk that way. It's as if Tyson got competitive stones from his father and more restrained life equilibrium from his mother Casey Bagent.
If the 23-year-old has one significant advantage over Justin Fields in the here and now, it's that his head is clear. He hasn't had to endure more than three years of mind diminishment amid the relentless confusion and clamor of Halas Hall. As far as living in the moment, the sinewy QB could be a devout Taoist.
LAST SUNDAY, DURING THE BEARS' gate-to-wire pasting of visiting Las Vegas, young Bagent even achieved a flip of magic worthy of Penn and Teller: He made Luke Getsy look like a coherent NFL offensive coordinator. Bagent's quick-study virtuosity allowed Getsy's simplified call card to work.
But back to the father. His act is flowing and direct. His old man - the late Jerry Lee Boyd - was a bread truck driver over around Charles Town who played "Dad" when it suited his ramblings. He later opened Billy Jack's, a bar and regional mecca of armwrestling.
In the compelling 2009 documentary "Pulling John" (also available on YouTube) - which in concept was to focus on John Brzenk, the Elgin native who remains one of the sport's greatest champs - Travis Bagent said that he and his brothers lived "from kindergarten to ninth grade" without indoor running water.
"So we never had friends over," he said. "We'd cart buckets of water up to the house to get clean for school. Then on weekends, we'd go to a cousin's house and take about 15 showers each. We got by."
BECAUSE OF HIS PARENTS, Tyson Bagent - and siblings Ezra, a freshman QB at Shepherd, and younger sisters Diem and Valyn - never touched such hardship. Although he has said in past interviews that sometimes, the monthly rent depended on his father cashing at an armwrestling event. "But we never knew that then," he adds.
Travis Bagent's cocky prowess as an armwrestling winner will forever be part and parcel of all that might give Tyson Bagent a long and successful career in pro football. Family psychologists might call it "a transference of immutable self-assurance."
Each week at the end of "Monday Night Mayhem," any Neon Mooner could challenge Bagent for a shot at a growing pot if he could best the champ in a one-pull showdown. Mike Hornby - the owner of the TV 10 signal and affiliated radio stations WRNR-AM and FM - enlisted advertisers to start the cash call at $500.
ON THE FINAL EDITION OF "MAYHEM" last December, the grand prize was steroided to $25,000.
Bagent the Father never lost.
"I knew there was no way Travis was going to let me down," said Hornby, who is also an elected representative (R-Berkeley) to the West Virginia House of Delegates. "That's just not the Bagent way."
And there are people who are going to bet against Tyson Bagent on NBC Sunday night?
• Jim O'Donnell's Sports and Media column appears each week on Sunday and Thursday. Reach him at jimodonnelldh@yahoo.com. All communications may be considered for publication.