Profile | Hawks' Peterson is Valley Forged

Two Pop-Tarts, one glazed doughnut and a couple of bowls of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Those were the ingredients of Julian Peterson's sugar-loaded first step into Wednesday, a menu that would make any mother cringe. Some people may count calories, Peterson crams them down his throat. The Seahawks linebacker known for his speed has a metabolism that functions like a garbage disposal.

"I think he had two cheeseburgers for lunch," linebacker Lofa Tatupu said.

Peterson's body fat is 5 percent, which is the highest he can ever remember it being and the lowest the Seahawks trainer can ever remember for any linebacker. Just one sign that Peterson doesn't fit the mold at a position populated by players with thick necks and square bodies. Peterson is 6 feet 3, 235 pounds. His broad shoulders taper down to a 36-inch waist and his arms seem to go on forever.

"That's a freak of nature," Tatupu said of Peterson's physique.

Peterson was signed as the difference-maker for the defense. A linebacker who can stay stride for stride with the opposing tight end on first down, make a play on the opposite side of the field on second down and then line up at defensive end on third down.

He lined up in four different positions in a game for San Francisco in 2002, and even that doesn't capture the full range of his talents. He wanted to play tight end in the NFL, too, and in college he routinely played pickup games against Michigan State's basketball team.

As an athlete, he's a natural. Just don't say it has been easy for Peterson. Easy is a way out, not a way to get through two years at a military academy.

Boot camp

Peterson's parents had barely driven off when he was told the goatee had to go.

That was one of the first signs Peterson didn't know what he was in for at Valley Forge Military Academy and College. When he was summoned into formation he was certain about that.

"They told me to get at attention, get in line," Peterson said. "I was, 'What?' "

He knew Valley Forge was a military academy in Pennsylvania. He just didn't know how much military was in the academy, where being a player also meant being a plebe. That's how he ended up at the same school Norman Schwarzkopf attended.

Peterson would have had his pick of colleges, but his SAT score was about 50 points lower than he needed for a Division I-A scholarship. And so Peterson went from Crossland High School in Maryland to Valley Forge, a school that Chris Doleman attended before him and Larry Fitzgerald would attend after him.

"I've laughed from Day One with this," said Jim Burner, who coached Peterson at Valley Forge. "I told him, 'Blame your cousins for not telling you the truth.' "

Peterson's godbrother, William Davis, went to the school. So did Peterson's older cousin, Mike Bryson, who graduated in 1996 before he went to Georgia for football and later to Delaware to play basketball.

Bryson called his younger cousin JuJu and gave him a scouting report that wasn't really so much inaccurate as incomplete.

"I wanted him to experience it for himself," said Bryson, now a family therapist in Delaware.

Coaches tell recruits there are a few military elements. They just make it sound more like weekend exercises as opposed to boot camp.

Peterson arrived to find out every day was regimented, from the 5:45 wake-up call to dining posture. For the first few weeks, while new students are plebes and not yet cadets, they must eat while seated on only 2 or 3 inches of the chair, their backs rigidly straight. The showers were usually cold because the cadets went first and used most of the hot water, leaving the plebes little.

Peterson expected to learn formations. He just thought it would be defensive alignments, and here he was learning to march. He knew he'd be wearing a uniform. He was just thinking about a jersey with numbers, not a jacket with buttons.

The level of behavior lasts until the student memorizes the code of conduct to the point the plebe can recite it no matter what distraction is yelled at him. Adjustment isn't easy, but it's essential. Discipline isn't really a choice.

"They all complain," Burner said. "And they're kids. Did it get him to where he needed to go?"

It got Peterson to Michigan State, which had recruited him out of high school and stuck with him at Valley Forge, and it turned out to be a launching pad into the NFL.

Marching orders

Calling football an escape at Valley Forge is neither metaphor nor exaggeration. The practice field is across the street from the campus.

"That was your safe haven," Bryson said.

And Peterson needed no adjustment. He played tight end on offense, but he really excelled as a defensive end, where his only job was to rush the quarterback, which was one order he had no trouble following. He had 19 ½ sacks his first season at Valley Forge, and that spring Burner began working with him on expanding his repertoire.

"People are going to catch up to you on your move," Burner said he told Peterson.

And then something strange happened. Peterson couldn't get past the tackle in practice. After two days, Burner said he told Peterson to forget everything they'd been talking about.

"You just do whatever you want to do," Burner said he told Peterson. "And if you have a question, ask me."

He told the other coaches to quit giving Peterson pointers.

"That's how we coached him," Burner said. "Just let him go."

Peterson had 20 ½ sacks his second season at Valley Forge, then left for Michigan State and was drafted by the 49ers in the first round in 2000. A few years into his career, Peterson called Burner to ask for a favor. He wanted a tape of his tight-end highlights from Valley Forge to show the 49ers.

"He still thinks he can play tight end in the NFL," Burner said, pausing for just long enough to consider it. "And he might be right."

Jimmy Williams has more than heard about Peterson's range of talents. He saw it back in 2002 when they were teammates in San Francisco and Peterson lined up at four different defensive positions: defensive end, linebacker, safety and cornerback.

The last was Williams' position, where he was a backup for the 49ers.

"I'm sitting on the sidelines, and you've got a linebacker playing my position," Williams said. "But that's what he can do. He's just a special cat."

It comes naturally to Peterson. Just don't say it comes easy. Not when you consider the route he walked from high school.

"I figured if I can get through that, I can get through anything," Peterson said.

Danny O'Neil: 206-464-2364 or doneil@seattletimes.com