Texas Imposter Takes Look At Reality Football’s Man Of Many Names Says He Would Like A Shot In Arena League Football

Ron Weaver is staying in “Texas-shape” in case he gets what he wants more than anything else in the world - another chance to play football.

He’s hopeful he’ll get a shot with the Arena League, which begins its season in the spring.

Weaver, who used a false identity to extend his amateur football career far beyond NCAA limits, said he has been working out constantly “because if anything ever happens where I do get a tryout, I want to be prepared.”

“I’m just hoping,” he said. “Before, I thought Arena Football was a joke. Now, I hope it’s a reality. I just want to play.”

While Weaver, 30, acknowledges he “did something wrong,” he says he has few regrets about using the false identity to play three extra years - two at Pierce College, a junior college in Los Angeles, and one season at the University of Texas.

He wishes he was still playing for the Longhorns.

“I don’t really care what people think, the people that know me know the truth,” the softspoken Weaver said. “All my intentions were good. I think I’m a person who followed his dreams. I didn’t mean to hurt anybody at all. I didn’t mean for it to end up like this.

“I played in 70 college football games. I don’t have to get paid to play. I just enjoyed playing the game. It was for the love of football. I looked forward to practice every day. If you asked me what I want to do tomorrow, it would just be to suit up.”

Texas officials, who met with Weaver last week, no doubt feel Weaver did do harm by playing there, even if the school avoids problems with the NCAA, which athletic director DeLoss Dodds believes will happen.

Texas compliance director Leroy Sutherland, involved in the meeting with Weaver, would only say, “This remains a criminal investigation, so we are not at liberty to discuss the individual issues. But from our point of view, I can say that most of the university and NCAA issues surrounding his enrollment, recruitment and participation have now been resolved to our satisfaction.”

Weaver realizes he still could be in trouble legally, possibly facing mail- and wire-fraud charges.

“I believe in Texas’ eyes, the case is dealt with and put to pasture,” he said. “But I’m not out of the woods yet. I don’t have any idea what the U.S. Attorney’s Office in Texas has planned.

“I know I did something wrong. When I went into this, I knew the ramifications and I was prepared to suffer the consequences that were dealt to me. If worse came to worse, I guess it would probably be my obligation to do what they asked me, whatever the punishment was.

“I understand that I caused some havoc and it was unethical, but it was all for the love of the game. If I’m going to be punished for something I love, so be it.”

Weaver has a youthful look that helped him pass for a friend, seven years younger, whose identity he took to restart a college football career that was completed at Sacramento State in 1989.

“I can’t even grow a beard,” he said. “I can’t even grow hair on the side of my face. When you play football, you never grow old. It’s an excuse to stay young, you can still be a kid.”

So in the fall of 1993, Ron Weaver, previously a wide receiver, became Joel Ron McKelvey, defensive back. After realizing he “still had it” while serving as an unpaid assistant coach working with defensive backs at Monterey Peninsula College in 1992, Weaver-McKelvey matriculated south to Pierce College.

He played well enough to be awarded a scholarship to Texas, where he was a reserve defensive back and special teams player this past season.

When Weaver’s true identity was discovered a day before Texas faced Virginia Tech in the Sugar Bowl on Dec. 31, he said he initially denied it to members of the Texas coaching staff, but realized shortly thereafter that it was “time to bail out.”

And so he abruptly left New Orleans unannounced.

“I felt upset it was all over,” he said. “That empty feeling which I had when I left college before, it came back again, thinking I could never play again. I knew it had to come to an end, I didn’t think so soon. I have to try and move on.”

When the story of Weaver’s double-identity first surfaced, there were reports he was writing a book, that the whole situation was gang-related, and that he had placed bets for other players.

All untrue, he says now.

“Preposterous,” he said. “I’m from a town of about 60,000, they don’t even have gangs there.