07
May
via did-you-knoClint doesn’t remember his full name but you couldn’t miss the man on the sidelines of Nac-town’s Mexican League games. He was betting cash on the cocky 15-year-old gringo to beat men twice his age, proud men from Mexico and El Salvador who’d throw you to the East Texas dirt for trying a fancy move on them. “He called me his Little Rooster.”
The Little Rooster swallowed his fear, unleashing all the tricks he’d seen in his Diego Maradona highlight videos and noodled on in his backyard with his brother. Stepovers, nutmegs, dipsy-dos: He had everything, even moves without names, moves nobody had seen before. Childhood friend Frankie Rivera recalls one Mexican League game when Dempsey “did some kind of weird trick—it was so awesome—and the guy got mad and spit in his face. Clint just went at him. He had three guys trying to fight him, but he did good.”
When the Little Rooster scored goals, he wouldn’t hold back on his foes. “He’d run around to the faces of all of them,” says Dempsey’s mother. ”They’d be so mad. They’d scream and holler,” says his father. Says Dempsey, “I’m surprised I didn’t get stabbed out there.”
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