Cope and his Colt

Talk to former Baltimore Colt and Super Bowl V winner Roy Hilton about his 11 years in the NFL, and he’s quite modest about his accomplishments.

But talk to Hilton about his grandson, and his eyes light up.

Hilton has been teaching Penn football defensive end Brandon Copeland about the game since his grandson picked up a football in fifth grade. In fact, everything Hilton learned during his 11-year NFL career — “be aggressive, use my hands, try to be the first person to come off the ball at the snap,” Hilton says — he has passed on to his grandson.

Even before Copeland took to the football field, after first falling in love with basketball, Hilton gave the final blessing for young Copeland to play. His mother, Angela Copeland, was a bit unsure about allowing her boy to get knocked around on the gridiron.

“I was scared he was going to get hurt,” says Angela, who still lives in her hometown of Baltimore. “I didn’t want my baby getting hurt.”

But with some words of encouragement from her father who, compared to many NFL veterans from his time, is still in good shape at age 68, she eventually gave in and let Brandon play.

Considering Hilton had three daughters and no sons — not every NFL player’s dream — he says he is “blessed” to have six athletic grandsons. Surprisingly, Brandon is the only one that plays football. But that doesn’t matter much.

“My granddad supports [all of my cousins] just as much as he supports me,” Copeland says.

Molding a protege.

Perhaps it’s a blessing in disguise that Copeland is the only grandson playing football. Hilton attends every Penn home football game and watches the nationally televised games. He even purchased an additional TV package just to see the Quakers play at Dartmouth on Fox College Sports this year.

And when Copeland started playing in fifth grade, he would go out to the backyard and his granddad would teach him stances. Though the teaching has evolved, even in college,it hasn’t stopped.

“I never tell him too much,” says Hilton, sitting with Angela in the Franklin Field stands at halftime as he watches his grandson pressure Yale quarterback Patrick Witt. Hilton doesn’t want to interfere with Penn’s coaches. “I don’t want him getting too confused … the main thing is you have to blend in with your teammates.”

Hilton does teach his grandson, however, the importance of quickness off the ball over raw speed.

“Watch the center with the ball,” Hilton tells Copeland. “When the center moves the ball, try to move with the ball.”

Indeed, Copeland is quick off the ball. In the final plays before halftime, he beats Yale’s lineman and pressures Witt twice. Both passes go incomplete.

So far, Copeland has had a successful career. He broke into the lineup as a freshman, partially due to his ability to play on both hands. That skill, taught to him by his grandfather, gave him the versatility to be able to substitute for either defensive end. He started every game as a sophomore and was named first-team All Ivy. This season, he is second on the team in tackles with 26 solo and 45 total.

His granddad has predicted milestones in high school and college for Copeland and so far, all have come true, like being named captain senior year of high school. But the predictions made for his collegiate career, the grandson won’t discuss.

“I’ll let you know if it comes true,” he says instead.

Like grandfather, like grandson.

Copeland plays the exact position that his grandfather did: defensive end.

But Copeland started his career on offense, mostly as a center, but also as a fullback and tight end. It wasn’t until a teammate was injured that he switched sides of the ball.

He was recruited to play offense at some schools, but chose Penn partly because he wanted to play defense — “It could be innately in my blood,” he says.

“It’s more of a ‘go get it,’” he adds, while “offense is more of a protect, keep somebody from getting some place.”

For Copeland and Penn’s defensive scheme, the mentality of bend-don’t-break certainly applies.

He also shares his granddad’s attitude to “attack instead of play conservatively.” He calls his grandfather his “biggest hero” and a “big influence” on his football career.

A special bond.

The bond Copeland and his granddad have is more than the typical grandfather-grandson relationship; their relationship mirrors that of a father and son. In fact, Copeland calls his grandfather a “second dad,” whose house he calls a “second home.”

When Copeland transferred to the Gilman School in eighth grade, an hour’s drive from his house, the bond strengthened as Hilton often drove Copeland to school and home from football practice.

While Hilton sees Copeland as a grandson first and football player second, countless conversations have been centered around the game they share.

Ultimately, football conversations between the two boil down to manhood and masculinity. Seldom is Hilton’s professional career discussed in further depth than anecdotes, and even more seldom does he mention the two Super Bowl appearances and the one Super Bowl victory.

But last Christmas, the family watched an NFL Films special on Super Bowl V, complete with interviews from former players. Hilton interjected with stories about his fellow defensive linemen like Mike Curtis, and he was “happy just looking back,” Copeland says.

It was the most Copeland has ever seen or heard of that Super Bowl victory, and he hasn’t even seen the ring.

Hilton’s playing days.

Born in 1943, Hilton grew up in what he describes as “the boonies,” working as a sharecropper in Hazlehurst, Miss. Like his grandson, he played basketball in his youth, and never saw a football until he was 10 years old.

“[Football] was the most exciting thing in the world to me,” Hilton remembers. “You could just raise hell.”

He stuck with both sports until his senior year of high school, when the 6-foot-6 Hilton met his match in a 7-foot defender on the basketball court and decided to stick to the gridiron.

Hilton went on to play football at Jackson State University, and was picked by the Colts in the first round of the 1965 NFL Draft. He entered the league with future Hall-of-Famers Gale Sayers, Dick Butkus and Joe Namath — whom he faced in Super Bowl III.

“I was fortunate enough to be surrounded by some great players at the time,” says Hilton, who shared a locker room with the likes of Johnny Unitas, Bubba Smith and John Mackey. “I just happened to be at the right place at the right time.”

Copeland remembers a time he was at his grandparents’ house in Baltimore, when his grandfather explained how he had to play with attitude. Hilton knew that as an African American playing in the ’60s, if he didn’t contribute to the team, he would be cut.

There was no sitting on the bench; no in-between.

Lessons learned.

Hilton likens his football philosophy to being put in a trash can with one other player, and only one can come out.

“‘I’ll do whatever I have to do,’” Copeland recalls his grandfather saying, “‘But I’m coming out the trash can.’” Copeland has patterned his own game using that do-or-die mindset.

“I’m not letting you push me around on the field,” Copeland says. “It’s more about pride and manhood.”

Just like that pride wouldn’t allow Copeland to be beat up on Locust Walk ­— not that anyone would ever try — the same pride won’t allow him to be beat up on the field, especially in front of his family.

And when that happens, his mother is there to motivate.

“Brandon,” his mother says, “It’s two big guys on you — you have to somehow get them off of you.”

On the field and off, Copeland’s family is always on his mind, and he attributes many of his accomplishments to his grandfather.

It’s no surprise, then, that when Hilton speaks, he speaks not of his own accomplishments, but of his grandson.

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