Williams marching to his own beat

Over a five-day span, Ricky Williams flew from the Bahamas to Miami to Hawaii to Tokyo to Los Angeles.

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Williams knew how to break away on a football field - and now he's bolting into the blue sky, feeling freer than he ever has in his life. He's not sure of his next stop and doesn't really care.

Talking to his agent shortly after arriving in California on Monday, the peripatetic and erstwhile running back for the Miami Dolphins mentioned the possibility of taking a break at Martha's Vineyard in Massachusetts.

On the way, he might want to pause at Walden Pond and brush up on the writings of another famous dropout from the conventions of society, Henry David Thoreau. People thought he was strange, too.

A young man leaving behind wealth, adulation and material comforts to search for truth and worldly experience is a story as old as Buddha.

Now it's the story of Ricky Williams, a 27-year-old former Heisman Trophy winner whose journey to the East or West or wherever his heart and whimsy take him has left the Dolphins feeling puzzled and betrayed.

"Why do people have to be judgmental about this," Williams told Miami Herald columnist Dan Le Batard by cell phone from Asia late Sunday night. "I'm going in search of the truth. Everything I'm doing in my life is about finding the truth. Football isn't part of the truth for me anymore."

Most fans won't understand why Williams would leave the team in the lurch at the start of training camp or why he would give up more than $5 million a year - $3.6 million in salary this season plus $1.5 million in incentives - at the peak of his career.

Narrow-minded folks, like Miami guard Seth McKinney, will call him selfish and say "he quit on us." Some cynics might surmise that he simply flipped, pointing out crudely his acknowledgment a few years ago of a social anxiety disorder that led him to take an anti-depressant.

Others might believe he smoked too much pot, referring to reports in May that he tested positive for marijuana and faced a fine of at least $650,000 for violating the league's substance-abuse policy for a second time since joining the Dolphins.

But none of those people really knows Williams or understands him.

"Anyone who thinks he's selfish, they should see his foundation and see him around kids in Austin," said Mack Brown, his former Texas coach. "Selfish is not a word I've ever thought about with Ricky Williams."

Brown, who speaks frequently with Williams, believes early retirement has been on his mind for a long time. He's seen one of his mentors, Earl Campbell, struggle with bad knees, a bad back and a body full of pain that comes from 13 years of pounding in the NFL. Williams, a player much like Campbell, didn't want that for himself.

Williams' discomfort with celebrity was only one factor in his flight from football. He wanted the freedom to pursue his love of photography, to travel for pleasure rather than just for work, to complete his degree at Texas and perhaps teach elementary school.

He wanted a life beyond the gridiron, a chance to explore the world as he did in the Australian outback last winter, meet and understand people of different cultures.

That's a choice that should be celebrated, not mocked.

Williams doesn't owe the Dolphins or their fans anything. In fact, they probably owe him thanks for leaving when he felt he didn't have his heart in the game anymore. He could have stayed around, collected his paychecks, and given an indifferent effort. That wasn't his style.

Williams came back from Australia with his distinctive dreadlocks shaved off, and went to camp in the spring in great shape. Physically, he was ready to play again. Mentally, he wasn't.