http://www.sportsline.com/collegefootball/story/9068580

AUSTIN, Texas -- Mack Brown said something strange the other day. It went beyond even the unlimited boundaries of coach hyperbole.

Vince Young, the Texas coach said, is going to end up in not one, but two halls of fame -- college football and pro football.

Turns out Brown aimed low.

Forget football for a moment, a Dallas Morning News columnist over the weekend urged that Young get the paper's Texan of the Year award, usually reserved for a politician or businessman. Young's legacy in his hometown of Houston is cemented to the point that he is being mentioned as the city's best athlete ever.

It's merely a destiny fulfilled if you ask Houstonians. Five years ago NBA guard Steve Francis once sought out the 17-year-old schoolboy star just to shake his hand.

He is one of them -- a kid who came within a hiccup of becoming a gang banger. A player with such unique talent that opposing fans were cheering him during a 2001 high school playoff game in the Astrodome.

Now a man who is carrying the hopes and dreams of a city, a school and maybe the entire state with him.

"We're so close," he said quietly. "You can smell it right now -- the Rose."

As in bowl. Texas needs only to beat Colorado to get to Pasadena for the second straight year. The place where Young's legend really started 11 months ago. Five touchdowns by Young against Michigan in January caused the usually cadaverish Lloyd Carr to call him "the finest athlete I've ever seen on the field as a quarterback."

That was before an 11-0 season and in the middle of 18 consecutive victories. Before Vince, really, was Vince.

The planets have aligned for Young to return home this week, a conquering hero covered in glory. The Big 12 championship game is at Houston's Reliant Stadium, a 15-minute drive from where he grew up in the city's Fourth Ward.

"It says a whole lot," Young said when hit with Texan of the Year talk. "I ain't nothin' but 22 years old. It's like I'm an older adult when I'm really not."

Kids trail him like he's Santa in a helmet. Just for yucks, he asks for their autographs. The latest episode: Fifty young fans waited outside Kyle Field after Friday's victory over Texas A&M.

"I was so tired and we were walking out," Brown said. "He signed every kid's shirt, hat ... I wanted to get on the bus. I bet he stayed an hour. That's the kind of heart he has."

Coaches game plan against him. Young's run-pass ability has him within shouting distance of becoming the first player to throw for 2,500 yards and run for 1,000 in the same season. Already, he is 28-2 as a starter, tied with both Bobby Layne for the most wins in school history and Nebraska's Turner Gill for seventh-best winning percentage (.933).

"We take things for granted," Brown said, explaining his halls of fame rant. "What he does is whatever he needs to do to win. If you look at the direction of pro quarterbacks, most of them are guys that can move and throw. I feel like all of this is ahead of him. He hasn't even scratched the surface of how good he can be."

The NFL wants him, or will at some point. It's amusing that the issue now is whether Young is going to stay in school. Eight months ago the school's publicists were feverishly trying to convince national scribes that Young was legit.

Now his coach is casting busts of his quarterback.

"Seventeen games ago, people didn't think he could ever play," Brown said. "Now they're all worried about him leaving early."

And for the record, Young is coming back -- as of Monday when he met reporters to talk about the Big 12 le game.

"Right now," he told reporters three days after helping beat the Aggies, "my decision is to come back to school."

That, of course, before a possible Heisman Trophy and/or national championship muddle the issue. That before family, friends and agents start whispering in his ear.

"It's not what they want, it's what I want," Young said firmly. "You can always listen to what your people have to say, but it's my decision."

Bet the senior year. Almost all of the NFL-worthy juniors under Brown -- from Ricky Williams to current defensive lineman Rod Wright -- came back.

They quickly realize: This is Austin, where players live in both adoration and in one of the nation's coolest cities.

"Every now and then random people just walk up to you and notice you," said defensive back Michael Huff, who spurned the NFL to return as a senior. "You kind of get used to it. The NFL will always be there. This is the last opportunity to win a national championship. Everybody just loves you out here." And here in Vince World you're either in his vapor trail or writing about it. The last college player to carry his combination of smarts, athleticism and charisma to the altar of a national championship was Michael Vick six years ago.

But there is something more about Young. He is coveted, loved and cherished in part because it has been 35 years since Texas sniffed a national championship. In that time Darrell Royal retired. Earl Campbell, Ricky Williams and countless other All-Americans have passed through Austin. Few have offered the promise of the icon they call VY.

"Here's Vince," said teammate Quan Crosby, describing the current vibe in Austin. "Let's jump on that wagon and roll with it."

The comparison is obvious. Young is the best of his genre to come along since Vick. And just as scrutinized. Remember how pundits said Vick would get his head taken off in the NFL with all that scrambling?

Critics still can't get over Young's funny little side-arm motion. The one that has made him the third-most efficient passer in the country.

"More than anything they don't like the way he throws," Crosby said, mimicking the draft drumbeat. "If he doesn't throw the ball perfect it's because of his mechanics. ... He is who he is. He throws the ball great, runs the ball great. Maybe people are starting to accept him for that."

"It doesn't matter," Young said. "I'm always going to be me. You're going to deal with it or don't be around me." They can't help but flock around him. It was in the summer, really, when Young took over as a leader. He scrawled a challenge on a dry erase board: Anyone who wants to beat Ohio State, show up for 7-on-7. The informal practices quickly became 11-on-11.

Then Young sealed the deal by pitching the game-winning touchdown pass with 2½ minutes left to beat the Buckeyes on Sept. 10. It was one of those betcha-5-bucks throws through a car tire in the backyard.

Two defensive backs on one side. Sideline on the other. Young threw the ball the only place he could, into the outstretched hands of Limas Sweed.

Can't throw, huh?

"What he's done is brought a type of at ude to Texas," cornerback Terrell Brown said. "We thought, 'What are linemen doing here (for 7-on-7)?' I think that just rolled over to the season."

Dad has been in jail most of Young's life. Mom used to hit the bottle and The Chronic, then turned born-again Christian. Vince himself came within an eyelash of joining the thug life in middle school.

"It was real close," he said. "Walking with the wrong crowd and getting gunshots shot at you. You're with the wrong guy and police pull the car over. You think you're going to go to juvenile, in jail. "

Felicia Young set her son straight, reminding Vince about his father, sending him into the yard to rake leaves. Then spreading them out. Then raking them.

"She told me I'd end up dead or in jail," Young said. "When I was raking those leaves, I thought about that the whole time. I started working on football and school more."

Houston, he's yours for now. A couple of halls of fame, though, await.