D'Cota Dixon could have become a victim of the difficult circumstances that defined his early life. Instead, he found a family, found his faith and, finally, found a home for himself in Madison. Now, as a starter in the Badgers' secondary, he's still finding ways to improve as a player and as a person -- a drive that comes as no surprise to those that know him best.
BY ANDY BAGGOT
UWBadgers.com Insider
From Varsity Magazine
It was a moment of temptation few would have resisted.
Be the hero. Bask in the spotlight. Listen to the world serenade you with hosannas.
All that awaited D'Cota Dixon after the Wisconsin football team opened the season Sept. 3 with an upset of then-fifth-ranked LSU at Lambeau Field in Green Bay.
UW hung on for a 16-14 victory in part because Dixon, a junior strong safety making his first career start, intercepted a pass with 57 seconds left to snuff out a potential game-winning drive by the Tigers.
The dramatic moment became even more so when Dixon, in the midst of celebrating the critical takeaway, was viciously clotheslined by LSU offensive tackle Josh Boutte in a pique of frustration. Not only was Boutte ejected from the game for a personal foul, he was suspended for the ensuing game by the school.
But Dixon was uncomfortable with what he felt was too much attention. In fact, he felt he let the team down by missing multiple tackles, one of which led directly to a touchdown for the Tigers.
"I didn't have the greatest game at all," he said, "yet I caught an interception and you get praise as if I'm the savior of Wisconsin."
Dixon responded to the moment in a telling, uncommon way.
Early the next morning, dressed in workout attire, he brought a tackling dummy onto the Camp Randall Stadium turf and began a one-man practice session.
Dixon was upset with himself for the missed tackles, including one in the third period when LSU wide receiver Travin Dural caught a pass from quarterback Brandon Harris in the right flat, danced around an over-aggressive Dixon, and waltzed into the end zone as the Tigers assumed 14-13 lead.
"That cannot happen," Dixon said matter-of-factly. "I didn't execute the tackle so I felt like I needed to work on that."
Jim Leonhard is in his first year as UW's secondary coach, so he hasn't known Dixon all that long. But Leonhard has already seen enough from the quiet, exceedingly determined kid from Oak Hill, Florida, to say he's special.
"He has that attitude and it's real," Leonhard said. "He's not doing (the tackling drill) for show. He's not doing things to try and get attention. He's trying to get better."
Leonhard was among the UW coaches who noticed Dixon's impromptu workout from their Camp Randall offices high above the stadium floor.
"That's just a different mentality," Leonhard said. "He wants to improve this team. He wants to improve himself. You can't coach that into somebody. You either have it or you don't."
Dixon has it in part because of where he came from -- the jarring obstacles he's faced -- but also because of some courageous choices he's made along the way.
"He grew up really rough," Daryl Dixon said of his half-brother, who's younger by 12 years. "That's one of the things I'm most proud of him about. His circumstances were really tough. The way he speaks now and the way he carries himself now is a testament to how much he's grown."
"He wants to improve this team. He wants to improve himself. You can't coach that in somebody. You either have it or you don't."
UW senior free safety Leo Musso said D'Cota is a sincere, direct, supportive man of faith who has the respect of everyone in the locker room.
"He's one of those guys you can call at 3 o'clock in the morning to help you move a heavy dresser up to your room," Musso said. "He's one of those guys you know always has your back through any situation."
D'Cota grew up initially in the Miami area with his parents and his older brother, Dexter. When their father and mother split up, the boys stayed with their mother. It was a harrowing environment with little or no supervision.
"His mom had difficulties with substance abuse and mental abuse," Daryl Dixon said, "so (D'Cota) was basically in the house with (Dexter) alone and sometimes with no food to eat. That happened quite a bit and he actually got taken away from his mother."
Watching intently from a distance was Beth Caston, who'd had an on-and-off relationship with D'Cota's father since she was a teenager. Caston and D'Cota's father reunited, which meant she got to know and love the boys when they visited their father.
Though disabled by a car crash in 1994, resulting in a broken neck and back, Caston sought joint custody of the boys along with their father. She said she made repeated trips to Miami over an eight-month period before the courts relented. D'Cota was 6.
"Once I got the all-clear, there wasn't nothing I wouldn't do for those two young men to this day," Caston said of Dexter and D'Cota. "What joy they gave me, and still do."
Dexter, now a 22-year-old emergency medical technician in Houston, and D'Cota spent time in foster care while their custody case made its way through the legal system. According to Caston, when family services officials went to pick up the boys they found the home infested by rodents and cockroaches. There was a quarter loaf of mildewed bread in a styrofoam cooler. There were no clean clothes to be found.
Caston said the boys' father soon became a part-time parent. When he left due to substance issues, the boys elected to stay with her. Caston eventually sought and gained full custody, exposing them to things like Christmas, Halloween and proper health care for the first time in their lives.
The boys were in high school, New Smyrna Beach, when their father, also named Daryl, died of a heart attack in 2010. He'd recently made in-roads into D'Cota's life, attending his sporting events and sharing conversations.
"It happened to them at a crucial time," Caston said of her stepsons, "and I just hoped and prayed that God would keep them spiritual and have peace of mind."
D'Cota said the death of his father, which occurred when he was a freshman, was a watershed moment in his life.
"At first I blamed God," he said. "I was quick to react and didn't understand at all. But by my senior year, that actually brought me closer to Christ in every sense."
D'Cota carries a tattered Bible with him wherever he goes and tries to read it at least twice a day.
"I believe in God with all my heart, all my heart," he said. "I pray whenever I can. Sometimes it's on the field in the middle of a play."
D'Cota and Musso are roommates for games and speak often of their shared faith.
"He's looking to please only one man and that's God," Musso said of his friend. "That's something he's very, very respected about in the locker room."
"His circumstances were really tough. The way he speaks now and the way he carries himself now is a testament to how much he's grown...Growing up, he had to get that strength from somewhere because a lot of people would not be able to go through what he's been through."
Musso and D'Cota pray before and after games and practice.
"You have to be patient, and God's patience isn't always on my time and I've learned to understand that," D'Cota said. "The best thing is always having hope, always having trust. You've got to center Jesus around everything."
Daryl Dixon, now an outside linebackers coach at Army after seven season as an assistant coach at Ball State, said he looks up to his half-brother in part because of his strong faith.
"Growing up, he had to get that strength from somewhere because a lot of people would not be able to go through what he's been through," Daryl said.
Caston, 57, said D'Cota has found happiness and serenity at UW. She said his major, rehabilitation psychology, and his desire to work with children with autism is a nod to the challenges he endured as a child. She said D'Cota revels in team's tight-knit family atmosphere.
"It's the guys in between the lines," he said. "When you're in the game, your coaches ain't playing for you. You're playing for the brother next to you and that's my biggest thing."
A three-year captain in high school, D'Cota, listed at 5-foot-10 and 197 pounds, came to Wisconsin as a linebacker and switched to safety after one season. He's still getting the hang of the position, a process hampered by offseason surgery and limited repetitions in preseason camp. Â
"He plays fast," Leonhard said. "He wants to go 100 mph the whole time. We're trying to get him to rein that in at times."
Leonhard, a record-setting All-America safety for the Badgers from 2001 to '04, said Dixon is also learning how to ease up on himself.Â
"He's very humble with his success, but he takes the negative hard," Leonhard said. "I'm trying to coach that out of him a little bit. It's OK to be your toughest critic, but it also can't hinder you. You can't let a bad play on the field stay with you for a long time on the field."
Musso knows that side of his friend.
"He's never satisfied," he said.
Caston knows that side of her stepson as well.
"He'll tear himself to shreds to fix what he feels he failed at," she said.
Which brings us to that one-man, early-morning workout. D'Cota received a congratulatory postgame text message from his half-brother Daryl that included a critique of his tackling form.
"He called me after the game and said, 'Yeah, I know,'" Daryl recounted. "That's the maturity part where he's grown so much because, when he was younger, it was everybody else's fault."
D'Cota said he had no idea the UW coaches were watching him that day. He was just trying to get better.
"Moving forward there are going to be a lot more tackles like that, so what do you do?" D'Cota asked rhetorically. "I think the best thing you do is you put yourself in a better position the next time, so you have to practice it and rep it out."
Caston will get to watch her stepson play for the Badgers when Ohio State comes to Madison on Oct. 15. Joining her will be her mother, 80-year-old Sallie Patterson.
Caston said she's thankful she was able to extract D'Cota and his brother from their awful circumstances. In turn they gave her a purpose as she managed her disabilities.
"They gave me the will to keep going and carry on," she said.
Caston said D'Cota has come a long way. The angry youngster has become a man of faith, integrity and strength.
"He's a tough kid," she said. "He's played hurt a lot in his life."
