"People say you’re a magician."

"Heard that one a lot," he says. "Or the ‘He’s a jazzman, the way he improvises.’ Nonsense. I did it before; they just never saw it, is all."

"Why did you choose Ohio State?"

"I like Coach Tress," he says, staring straight ahead, the needle twitching above 100. "Y’know, at like 9 A.M. I still hadn’t made up my mind. I just couldn’t put it back anymore. I got so much grief about February 6. People saying I was grabbing the limelight, like I needed any more. I never asked to be the No. 1 prospect. I actually hated all that. Everything was moving too fast for me."

The first road sign for Columbus appears on the right, and Pryor turns to me. "Let me ask you a question," he says. "The last two Championship Bowl games—who was there both times? Ohio State."

The speedometer hits 115. "Be there in less than half an hour. I’m tired," he says, leaning his head against the car’s plastic doorjamb. Pryor brings up Tiger Woods’ miracle Friday at the U.S. Open last night, and Dottie Pepper’s analysis of Woods’ focus on the green at 18: "Tiger has the ability to slow it down like no one else."

"That’s it exactly!" Pryor says. "People always compare me to Vince Young. Me, I watch Tom Brady. Just watch Brady. So quiet in the pocket. Everything else is noise. He doesn’t hear it. He’s keeping it slow."

"You realize you’re going 115 now? You say yourself you’re always doing 100 on the field."

"That’s just . . . " He waves—at the road, the oncoming traffic, the first inkling of the Columbus skyline ahead. "That’s just what’s out there, all that space between you and the goal. You watch Brady: There’s no space, no miles per hour. Just him and that goal.

"You’re talking about focus."

"I’m talking about living for the game," he says as we pull up to the Lex Wexner Football Complex in the Woody Hayes Athletic Center. "I almost got my first birdie the other day, but I choked the putt. Gotta love Tiger. It’s hard to turn it off on the green."

"You play golf?"

"Nah. I just like hitting it. Messing around."

"On a par 3?"

"A par 5."

"You know most golfers wait a lifetime to miss birdie on a par 5?"

Pryor flashes me a "now you’re getting it" smile as he climbs out of the Sonata. But there’s nothing to get: It’s just him and the other 6 billion of us. "That’s because they don’t drive it 315 yards," he says.