BARRINGTON – He is on a first-name basis with the greats: Lou, Barry, Bobby, Nick, Lloyd. They take his calls. They open their office doors to him.

When it comes to Tom Lemming, the godfather of college football recruiting, they have no choice.

The coaches aren''t the only ones. The growing legion of recruiting addicts hang on his every word, hoping and praying he has good news for State U.

Lemming''s Super Bowl comes Wednesday, when thousands of high school seniors sign football letters-of-intent.

Happily, the 49-year-old provides the candy bar for every recruiting sweet tooth. He won''t have a second of down time as ESPN, endless radio stations and newspaper reporters seek his expertise.

He won''t say no to anyone, which might explain why he has been such a success. And why the words "Tom Lemming and football recruiting" strike us like "peanut butter and jelly" or "beer and pizza."

"To me, he''s a great promoter," Illinois prep recruiting analyst "Edgy" Tim O''Halloran said. "It''s more of a show now than it''s ever been."

The beginning

Lemming opened the show 25 years ago. Long before there was rivals.com or the Internet or much recruiting information other than what you read in your local papers. If colleges decided to release their lists of signees.

"There was nothing to copy because there was nothing out there," Lemming said.

At first, the coaches treated him like he had the latest bug: recruiting flu.

Why the hostility? Because Lemming broke the secrets coaches didn''t want out. Powers like Ohio State, Michigan and Notre Dame no longer could recruit three quarterbacks without the prospects hearing about it.

Bo Schembechler, Earle Bruce and Dan Devine had their assistants calling Lemming, asking him to cool it on the inside information.

"Bo didn''t like that kind of attention, which I can understand," Lemming said. "He''s getting all these great players. When the attention is focused on the players, he''s going to start losing them to Michigan State. I think that''s what brought parity. Kids aren''t going to go to school and sit for four years."

Twenty years later, Schembechler got over it.

"I ran into Bo about five or six years ago," Lemming said. "I was with Lloyd Carr and another coach. Bo walked by me, and he said, ''Tom, what are you doing here? You hate us.'' I said, ''I don''t hate Michigan. I just hate you.'' He punched me in the shoulder, and it was like we were old friends."

The first coach to break ranks and cooperate with Lemming was then-Vanderbilt assistant Dave Roberts. Lemming and Roberts sat and watched videotape of prospects, the coach giving his views.

His football background limited to playing receiver and defensive back at Reavis High, Lemming learned on the job. The coaches weren''t exactly impressed with his credentials.

"Bo would have meetings and say, ''Who the hell is this guy?'' " Lemming said.

His first year on the recruiting trail, Lemming traveled throughout the Midwest and East, talking with prospects and taking their pictures. He produced a 12-page, stapled version of the now-famous "Tom Lemming''s Prep Football Report." He had one subscriber: Donald Mankin of Oak Park.

The word quickly got out about the recruiting minstrel. Newspaper reporters wrote about him, which led to radio interviews. Jack Brickhouse had him on WGN. Bob Trumpy put him on in Cincinnati. An industry was born.

The rising

Selling one magazine to a guy in Oak Park didn''t pay the rent. For a while, Lemming held other jobs. He worked as a printer and with the U.S. Postal Service.

"I had to go to work," Lemming said. "I wasn''t making anything."

It all turned when his magazine started selling. Then came his 900 number, offering recruiting updates for a price. He had plenty of willing customers.

"I made a lot of money between ''88 and ''98," Lemming said. "Now, it''s just a decent living. I invested a lot of it into the house that I bought. When I sell it, I''ll be rich."

He isn''t adding Realtor to his current job plate, which already is full. His primary function is as producer of the Prep Football Report. He puts out three magazines a year and five newsletters. Recruiting fans can buy the magazine for $60 a year or the magazine and newsletters for $90. Lemming has nearly 3,000 subscribers, down from a peak of 4,000-plus.

Part of Lemming''s living comes from other ventures. He is a daily contributor to espn.com. He works for USA Today. And he writes for some of the colleges'' fan magazines.

In recent years, he has become a broadcaster on the U.S. Army All-American Bowl, a high school game played in San Antonio. Lemming picks the two teams.

The first year of the 4-year-old game, Lemming had to plead with players to make the trip. Now, they''re asking him. Nine players announced their college commitments during the NBC broadcast. The network''s hope was that every player would make his choice live. Maybe next year.

You might think Lemming charges the colleges about $1,000 each to put in a good word. Nope. The only pay he receives from the schools is if they subscribe to his magazine. And most of them do.

For the players in Lemming''s magazine, the service is free. He sends each family a copy. The goodwill is paid back by recruits who almost always return his calls.

When Louisville Trinity quarterback Brian Brohm was deciding on a college earlier in January, Lemming was one of the few the family talked to.

The beef

No doubt, Lemming said, the Internet has helped pique the interest in recruiting. But he isn''t always sure who is behind the mouse.

"Guys come and go so fast," Lemming said. "A lot of guys are in it for the quick-strike business. A lot of the Internet people, they want to make money quick. If they can''t, they get out. That''s why you see such turnover."

If you let him fix recruiting, one of the first things Lemming would do is cut back the number of calls recruits get from Web sites.

"No one is ever going to do that," Lemming said. "Maybe the Internet sites could get their acts together and all work together."

It didn''t work like that for Santino Panico. On the day The News-Gazette All-Stater from Libertyville was set to announce his college choice, the family got 28 calls from recruiting sites.

"It was like a swarm of locusts," Lemming said. "Then, they got mad at the dad for not telling them where he was going."

Lemming will get no argument about the problem from O''Halloran.

"It is an issue," O''Halloran said. "I get that from the parents'' side and the kids'' side. You''re hearing from your national recruiting network, you''re hearing from your regional recruiting networks. You''re hearing from Orange and Blue, Blue and Orange."

The relationships

You don''t work 25 years in a business without getting to know a lot of the principals. And often becoming pals.

"They are all friends," Lemming said. "Some guys get mad at me. Mack Brown got mad at me last year. I said they had more talent on their second team than Oklahoma had on its first team. He said I was trying to get him fired."

Once he became established as a recruiting analyst, Lemming had future coaches watching videotapes with him. Lemming even had snacks ready for the assistants.

The video sessions helped him form opinions on some of the current leaders of college football. Like Wisconsin''s Barry Alvarez.

"He''s great," Lemming said. "He''s a down-to-earth, shot-and-a-beer kind of guy who relates well to blue-collar people. Kirk Ferentz might be the nicest of all of them."

Lemming has a longtime friendship with new Nebraska coach Bill Callahan, a fellow Chicagoan.

"He''s a real straight shooter," Lemming said. "They are going to have a pipeline coming into Chicago right away."

Lemming''s list of the best talent unearthers includes three schools in the Big Ten.

"Iowa and Purdue are fantastic at evaluating guys that no one else wants," Lemming said. "They can''t beat Notre Dame, Michigan and Ohio State head to head."

And Illinois coach Ron Turner makes the cut, too. Lemming has a recent example to show Turner''s talent.

"When Eugene Wilson was coming, I didn''t like him," Lemming said. "I didn''t think he was any good. Turner was right. (Wilson is starting for New England in today''s Super Bowl.)"

Lemming has a solid relationship with almost every college. There are two high-profile exceptions.

"I''m not welcome at Notre Dame now," Lemming said. "And Penn State. That''s about it."

The troubles with Notre Dame are recent, since the start of the Bob Davie era.

"I liked (Gerry) Faust and then (Lou) Holtz," Lemming said. "Notre Dame was getting great players, so it was easy to rank them No. 1. Then, when they started doing bad, everyone said, ''You hate them.'' "

The Penn State problems go back further. Like to the beginning of Lemming''s career.

"(Joe) Paterno has never been good to anybody except his own local (guys)," Lemming said. "I always considered Penn State like Pravda. The local area is all under the control, under the thumb, of Joe. If (local analysts) wrote something bad, they were exiled. For people like me, he didn''t know how to control them."

The misconceptions

Just because Paterno shuts him out, Lemming doesn''t badmouth the Nittany Lions. If anything, he ranks the Penn State classes higher than they deserve.

Don''t accuse Lemming of working for a school, either. It doesn''t happen.

"I don''t call players up and say, ''Go here. Go there,'' " Lemming said. "I''ve never done that. They say I''m doing it for Michigan and the Michigan fans are happy, but the Ohio State fans are mad. If I did that, nobody would talk to me.

"I never volunteer anything to parents. I always tell them, ''Go with the academics. Go with who you trust.'' I always wait for them to ask me. I always tell them, ''The only people who really care about you are your parents. Even your coach might have an agenda. Only trust your family.'' "

Lemming willingly tells recruits about the depth of schools at certain positions.

"I''ll say, ''Ask them about this guy, this guy, this guy,'' " Lemming said. "The coaches should have already said that to him. But there are some schools that are a little sneaky and are trying to hide guys. I got a feeling Missouri was doing that this year."

Lemming told Webster Groves (Mo.) quarterback Darrell Jackson about Missouri''s recruiting class.

"He said, ''They''ve only got one quarterback,'' " Lemming said. "I said, ''What about (Texan) Mack Breed? I was just down in San Antonio, and he said he''s definitely going to Missouri as a quarterback.'' I said, ''Darrell, he''s only played one position: quarterback. You''ve got to check it out.'' They must have said something because he went to Missouri anyway."

The players are much more sophisticated than when Lemming started. They are interviewed often, understand the recruiting process and usually know the right questions to ask.

"They say, ''I''m going to school for the education,'' " Lemming said. "The truth is, they''re going to school for the girls, the chance to get to the NFL and a high-profile offense or defense. They know to talk about academics."

Despite what you are hearing about Minnesota''s recruiting trips, the players expect to be entertained on their visits. Lemming has heard recruits complain when all they did at Notre Dame was sit around, read and talk.

"Which is what you''re supposed to do in college," Lemming said. "When Holtz was there, they arranged parties. John Blake said when he was at Oklahoma, if there wasn''t a party going on, he made sure the players made one."

The respect

Lemming has the access Turner craves: the ability to see and talk to players as often as he wants. Turner believes Lemming''s interests are for the kids and the game.

"You don''t want him saying bad things about you," Turner said. "The good thing is he''s a good person, so I don''t think Tom''s going to do that.

"He is definitely one of the more respected, if not the most respected, guy out there."

Illinois subscribes to Lemming''s publication. And many others. The coaches use the information as a piece of the evaluation process.

"We''re not going to make an offer on a kid based on what Tom Lemming says," Turner said.

In stops at Illinois, Texas and Arizona, John Mackovic got to know Lemming.

"We always felt Tom was a straight shooter," Mackovic said.

The truth

During the last decade, Lemming has figured out the difference between good and bad recruits: production.

College coaches make big mistakes worrying about the tangibles. Size, strength, speed.

Two kids walk into the office. The first is 6-foot-5, 290 pounds and runs a 4.7 40. An easy pick. Until you turn on the tape and see the player not making a tackle.

"The coaches are like, ''We''re going to make him do something,'' " Lemming said. "If they''re not aggressive in high school, you can whip him and threaten his family, and he''s still not going to be a great player."

Then, the coaches see a 6-1, 260-pounder. Not much to look at until you turn on the tape and he tackles everybody.

"(Coaches) won''t go after that guy," Lemming said. "I know to take that guy over the other guy always."

Not that Lemming is always right. There are three great examples of players Lemming didn''t think had it.

Like the smallish running back from Wichita, Kan. Named Barry Sanders.

"I didn''t see him," Lemming said. "They told me his size, and I was in a hurry. Now, I remember to never be in a hurry."

He did take the time to check out the quarterback from Mississippi. Named Brett Favre. Didn''t think much of him, either.

"He played on an option team," Lemming said.

And, like most, he missed completely on a future NFL MVP. Named Kurt Warner.

If you''re going to point to Lemming''s misses, you better mention his hits, too.

He was way ahead of the curve on Maurice Clarett, ranking the running back No. 1 in the nation while nobody else had him in the Top 50. He was the first to notice Randy Moss. And a Syracuse coach tipped him to the talents of Michael Vick.

"There''s a lot of guys that I first say are great and everybody climbs on the bandwagon," Lemming said.

There are a few can''t-miss prospects who failed because of the off-the-field issues. Boo Thompson, Phil Macklin and Mike Burden, all former News-Gazette All-Staters, jump into Lemming''s mind. None of the three starred in college.

Macklin is serving a six-year, six-month sentence for armed robbery in the Southwestern Correctional Center.

"A lot of them that you make mistakes on are great players, but they are bad characters," Lemming said. "Bad grades and bad character don''t blend well."

The office

The room is littered with more videotapes than Blockbuster. But those aren''t copies of "Finding Nemo" on the floor of Lemming''s office. More like "Finding Joe Montana" or "Finding Marshall Faulk."

Lemming gets so many videotapes that every two months he takes a giant boxful out to the trash.

He watches every one, thinking he owes that to the players and the parents. When he sees a 5-8 defensive tackle, the video session doesn''t last long.

Lemming writes his reviews while watching the videos. He admits typing isn''t his forte, which explains why he dictates the material for his book and has someone type it for him.

The cluttered office has a fancy computer on the desk and a television with a VCR in the center. One wall is lined with chalkboards, where Lemming lists his travel schedule. He tries to keep the chaos organized.

On the shelves behind his desk, Lemming has souvenir footballs signed by the members of the U.S. Army teams and from TV specials he used to do at Disney World.

These is a pile of college paraphernalia. Schools send him hats and shirts. Lemming gives the stuff away. He doesn''t want a Michigan fan to see him with an Ohio State sweatshirt.

"You can wear stuff from Ball State and nobody cares," Lemming said. "You always have to be aware of everything."

The life

As signing day approaches, Lemming''s pushing toward sleep deprivation. On a typical morning, he is up at 5 to do a radio show. Another at 6 and then to the computer.

He makes time every day to work out at the gym, which explains the arms of a linebacker. You wouldn''t guess the dark-haired Lemming is anywhere close to 49.

Three times a week, he eats lunch at the Einsteen Bros. Bagels in Schaumburg. He has a regular posse of men, women and children who join him, including retired Chicago police detective Jimmy Jack.

"This is my only oasis," Lemming said while quickly eating soup and a sandwich.

He is on the phone for 100 to 200 calls a day. They come from players, parents, high school coaches, college coaches and the media. He did 50 radio shows on last year''s signing date, wearing his voice out to the point where he couldn''t talk for a week.

He keeps working until 2 a.m.

Lemming''s only other excursions during the long days are trips to the local cineplex. The 30-screen South Barrington Theater is a mile from his house.

"I''ll go three, four times a week just to get away from the phone," Lemming said. "I''ll go at 10 at night and stay there until midnight. I''ll have popcorn, gummi bears, soda. Maybe a hot dog that''s been there two years. There''s no one in there. I sleep and relax then. That''s my only relaxation."

There isn''t anybody else at the spacious home. Lemming is the divorced father of one: 17-year-old Tommy. Lemming''s son and ex-wife live in Tampa, Fla. Lemming said his career had nothing to do with the end of his marriage.

Since his divorce, Lemming has increased his travel schedule. He is gone from March to mid-July, visiting recruits. For his West Coast swing, Lemming will fly to Seattle, rent a car and drive a zig-zagging 11,000 miles back to Chicago. He''s made that run for 20 years.

Driving 50,000 miles a year, Lemming is destined to anger a state trooper or two. He has some inside help on how to appease the traffic gods.

"My brother, who is a state trooper, said you always have to be careful at the end of the month because they are always trying to fill their quotas," Lemming said. "They never let you go. Chicago, you''re good at 10 over."

One Alabama state trooper thought Lemming was carrying more than recruiting notebooks. So he offered Lemming a deal.

"He said, ''I won''t give you a speeding ticket if you let me search your car,'' " Lemming said.

Fine with Lemming.

"All he came up with was little pieces of popcorn."

You can reach Bob Asmussen at (217) 351-5233 or via e-mail at rasmusse@news-gazette.com.