Whitaker Living Out His Dream a World Away from His Childhood
Sep 16, 2026 | Football, Sports Extra
By: D. Scott Fritchen
Darien Whitaker Jr., standing in his white practice jersey bearing a purple No. 6, and with a purple Powercat emblazoned upon the front of his gray hat, and sporting dark gray shorts and black football cleats following Kansas State practice on Monday morning, hits with violence and makes his presence felt, as evidenced by his impact as a 6-foot-3, 246-pound sophomore edge rusher who never stands still on the football field at Bill Snyder Family Stadium.
But the 19-year-old Whitaker, a product of West Baltimore in Maryland, stands still during his first-ever appearance in front of reporters at the Vanier Family Football Complex, and once all the camera and cellphones have left, he remains to talk some more, and he transitions from football to life, to West Baltimore, to home, and using a soft voice, he begins to tell his story.
He harkens back to the night everything seemingly stood still outside the Kenwood Shopping Center in Rosedale shortly after midnight on March 7, 2020. A group of teenagers were leaving a March Madness party at a dance studio in the shopping center. They were met with a barrage of gunfire, according to a report by WMAR Channel 2 in Baltimore. Some of the teens fled and five were injured by gunfire. One died.
Rickie Forehand, a 13-year-old and lifelong best friend of Whitaker, laid still in Whitaker's arms.
Rickie didn't make it.
"He passed away in my arms," Whitaker says. "Rickie, who I was with every day, we were always together, and he died from that gun violence. It was hard. I'm going to be honest, it was really, really hard."
Whitaker lived with his hero, his mother, Jayme Delly, and he lived with his older sister and younger brother in a two-bedroom apartment that he had known throughout his youth in West Baltimore — "A bad area," Whitaker wants you to know — as there are parts of West Baltimore, such as Sandtown-Winchester and Harlem Park, that are higher-crime neighborhoods, and that are to be avoided, particularly at night.
"My mom made it happen for us," Whitaker says. "We had family members pass away because of street violence. It was hard growing up in that environment and trying to stay focused on playing football."
The focus became clear through tears that blurred Whitaker's vision immediately after the shooting outside the shopping center in Rosedale that left his best friend dead. A little more than six years have passed, but Whitaker, so jovial in describing the rush of lining up along the edge of the defensive line and rushing the passer, drops his head in contemplation, as the sounds and visions of March 7, 2020, flood back following one K-State football practice in September 2026.
"I was in my early teens, and I was almost lost to my environment," he says. "I'd been around it. It was hard not to become a product of my environment. Rickie's death made me think, 'This is not for me. This isn't the life for me. I want to do what's right for my family.'"
Whitaker pauses.
"I wanted to stay focused on football. I had stuff to prove."
That proving ground continues today, as Whitaker, some 1,200 miles from West Baltimore, is quickly becoming a true talent and a terror for an upstart K-State defense that hasn't allowed an opposing offense to reach the end zone in two games and currently ranks No. 2 in the FBS in total defense.
Whitaker has already recovered two fumbles. Nobody in the nation has more fumble recoveries than Whitaker. He also ranks 12th in the nation in forced fumbles. He had a fumble recovery in both games, including a strip sack and recovery in the Wildcats' 71-3 win over Nicholls — Whitaker's first action on the field as a defensive player. Regarded as the 60th-best linebacker in the nation for the Class of 2025 by On3, Whitaker has seemingly found a home as an edge rusher for the Wildcats, and his stock only seems to climb higher and higher with each play.
Exactly how good could Whitaker be for K-State?
One reporter asks K-State head coach Collin Klein that very question during his weekly news conference on Monday. Klein offers a long stare and shakes his head with a wry grin slapped across his face.
"I told ya," Klein says.
"I'm excited," Klein continues. "Darien's ceiling is extremely high. The great part about what he's doing is he's attacking it and getting better. That's a great thing for him and for our program."
There was a time when none of this seemed possible, of course. As with so many youths across the United States, the COVID pandemic took a toll on Whitaker's academic aspirations, and he had limited options for high school in the West Baltimore area. A youth football coach put Jayme in contact with Boys Town, which since 1917 has been one of the largest nonprofit, nonsectarian child and family care organizations in the country. Whitaker ultimately traveled to attend Boys Town in Omaha, Nebraska, and he lived with Jessica and David Huffman, and Jessica beamed that Whitaker was "the leader of the house," while Boys Town head football coach Chris Nizzie called Whitaker "a very sweet and carrying young man" as evidenced by his desire to ensure that new classmates never ate lunch alone in the cafeteria.
But times were tough. He stayed focused through those blurry eyes as tears welled up each night while talking to his mother on the phone back home in West Baltimore.
"I cried a lot that first year," he says. "I called complaining to my mom, 'I want to come home.' It was really, really hard. But I coped through football. Football was the only time I was happy."
Nizzie understood Whitaker, who over four years grew and harnessed his energy and those emotions into becoming a terror on the football field.
"Iowa State was the first school to show interest in me," Whitaker says. "I played safety and linebacker, and they recruited me for safety. Then I moved from safety to middle linebacker and then to defensive end. Nebraska came along and wanted me to play tight end. I visited Northern Iowa and committed there. Late in the summer before my senior year, I came to camp at K-State, and defensive ends coach Buddy Wyatt offered me."
Washington State and South Florida followed suit with offers of their own.
Why K-State?
"The guys in the locker room, guys who aren't here anymore like VJ Payne, and I met a lot of guys through three different visits to Manhattan," he says. "I got close with the guys before I got close with the coaches."
On December 4, 2024, sitting behind a dark table that read "BOYS TOWN" in big white letters, and wearing a purple hoodie with a large white Powercat across the chest, Whitaker made things official when he donned a purple K-State ballcap, smiled to the audience, and signed his name to his National Letter of Intent to attend K-State and play middle linebacker.
"A lot went through my mind that day, actually," Whitaker says. "I didn't ever think I'd get here. Once I got to K-State, I snapped back into reality, and I was like, 'Let's do this thing.'"
Whitaker had grand plans for his freshman season at K-State. He figured that he would play on special teams and work behind the starting linebackers to really learn the intricacies of the position for the Wildcats. Then disaster struck one week before K-State traveled to face Iowa State in the 2025 season opener in Ireland.
"I was on scout team, intercepted a ball, began running it back, and my foot popped," Whitaker says. "I'd broken the fifth metatarsal in my right foot. It was all downhill from there. I'd never been out of football for that amount of time. They thought it'd be a six-week recovery, and it ended up being three months. I came back for the final two games of the season to play special teams against Utah and Colorado."
Shortly thereafter, Chris Klieman announced his retirement after helping K-State to six seasons with at least eight wins and five bowl appearances in seven years as head coach. Klein was hired to be the next head coach and quickly assembled a coaching staff. Whitaker believed that there was no way that he would be in Klein's plans given that he had absolutely no game film to show from his freshman season at K-State, so he planned to enter the transfer portal. Longtime K-State staffer Taylor Braet phoned Whitaker and told him to hold on.
"Then Coach Klein, Taylor, and new defensive coordinator Jordan Peterson and general manager Trey Scott visited me in Baltimore," Whitaker says. "That's how it all started. I knew these guys were investing in me, so I was going to invest in them and my heart stayed at K-State. It was hard, though. I had been injured and they had nothing to look at — no defensive snaps, nothing. So, when they came, I was like, 'Football is my life.' I knew K-State was the place where I wanted to be, and these were relationships I wanted to build and grow."
Klein grins in recalling that initial visit with Whitaker in the Baltimore airport.
"He just had a really good spirit, a bright accountancy about him," Klein says. "He had a lot of energy, a lot of positive energy, and we'd seen his tape, so we were able to piece tape with frame and length to project what type of player he could be. I could also see when we were with Taylor Braet and Jordan Peterson the relationship and bond he had already built here. He cared about K-State, this program and this place. That got me really excited that the fit in a lot of areas, there was an alignment there. That's important for both sides, for sure. It was a good visit."
And Whitaker is fitting in perfectly within Peterson's defense. The change came after the conclusion of spring practice. That's when Klein, Peterson and defensive line coach Buddy Wyatt met with Whitaker. Peterson said, "We'd like to move you to edge. We think you're one of the best blitzers we have, and you can also do some stuff and be on the point of attack at the line of scrimmage. We're going to try you there."
Peterson saw something that Whitaker couldn't see at the time.
"When they first moved me, I doubted myself, and I told Coach Peterson at the beginning of fall camp, 'I don't know if this is a good idea,'" Whitaker says. "I wasn't making enough plays and didn't think edge was my position. Coach Peterson said, 'Trust me.' I trusted him, stayed down, and shoot, it worked out for the good. We're only two games into the season but this position change is what's best for the team.
"There's a lot more to uncover with my position. Be on the lookout."
Aside from not allowing an offensive touchdown, the defense has allowed just 144.0 total yards — 96.5 rushing yards and 47.5 passing yards — while also possessing the best third-down defense (6-of-28) in the country. K-State ranks No. 1 in passing yards allowed per game, second in total defense, third in scoring defense and 12th in third-down defense.
"It's physicality. We live in physicality," Whitaker says. "You have to have a burn to your 'why,' and why you play hard. You can't teach physicality. You can't teach somebody to be tough, to be hard. You can teach them how to play football, but you have to play with an edge and play hard all the time. That's just something that comes with the game of football — K-State football."
As for Whitaker being tied for first in the FBS in fumble recoveries?
He grins.
"We've preached throughout spring ball, fall camp and in practice — run to the ball," he says. "We want 11 hats to the ball. I run to the ball, the ball gets knocked out, and I make the recovery. It's easy to pick up the ball after it's knocked out."
So far, Whitaker has been a knockout. And there's plenty more to come. The young man, who six years ago, held Rickie in his arms, a world away, carrying visions and emotions that a 13-year-old should never feel, nearly caught in the maw of the West Baltimore machine, the gears, the nastiness, the gunfire, the life, and the potential regrets to follow, now standing still for the first time all day, basking in the air conditioning of a pristine Power 4 football complex, as sunlight pours through wall-sized windows, and a short elevator ride leads to post-practice snacks.
He has learned so much about himself during his journey to this point, and he appears mature beyond his years, and he grins as he speaks, and he says, "Yes, sir," and "No, sir," a lot. But, yes, he has learned so much during this 19-year ride from residing in the city that spells danger at nighttime to a college town atmosphere filled with stadium lights, friendly faces, and the best fan experience in the Big 12 Conference. Once, Manhattan was even dubbed "the happiest place on earth."
"I learned that I have to be strong, not just for me, but for the people around me — my family, my mom, the coaches, everybody," Whitaker says. "You have to be strong, you have to persevere, and you have to be tough. I'm not doing it for me, I'm doing it for my mom, my little brother, my big sister, my nephew. That's why I play with an edge, why I play hard.
"The NFL wasn't always a dream for me. At one point, my dream was to see 25. Now my dream is for me to make it big and put on a show for my mom."
Klein has experienced and has witnessed many great stories throughout his life. The K-State head coach appears to have a soft spot for Whitaker, his desire, his determination, and his zest for life and for football in a made-for-movie tale that isn't even close to being finished.
"It takes courage," Klein says. "That's a big step, betting on yourself and getting out of your comfort zone. It's an incredible young man. The sky's the limit for him.
"It's an incredible story."
Darien Whitaker Jr., standing in his white practice jersey bearing a purple No. 6, and with a purple Powercat emblazoned upon the front of his gray hat, and sporting dark gray shorts and black football cleats following Kansas State practice on Monday morning, hits with violence and makes his presence felt, as evidenced by his impact as a 6-foot-3, 246-pound sophomore edge rusher who never stands still on the football field at Bill Snyder Family Stadium.
But the 19-year-old Whitaker, a product of West Baltimore in Maryland, stands still during his first-ever appearance in front of reporters at the Vanier Family Football Complex, and once all the camera and cellphones have left, he remains to talk some more, and he transitions from football to life, to West Baltimore, to home, and using a soft voice, he begins to tell his story.
He harkens back to the night everything seemingly stood still outside the Kenwood Shopping Center in Rosedale shortly after midnight on March 7, 2020. A group of teenagers were leaving a March Madness party at a dance studio in the shopping center. They were met with a barrage of gunfire, according to a report by WMAR Channel 2 in Baltimore. Some of the teens fled and five were injured by gunfire. One died.
Rickie Forehand, a 13-year-old and lifelong best friend of Whitaker, laid still in Whitaker's arms.
Rickie didn't make it.
"He passed away in my arms," Whitaker says. "Rickie, who I was with every day, we were always together, and he died from that gun violence. It was hard. I'm going to be honest, it was really, really hard."
Whitaker lived with his hero, his mother, Jayme Delly, and he lived with his older sister and younger brother in a two-bedroom apartment that he had known throughout his youth in West Baltimore — "A bad area," Whitaker wants you to know — as there are parts of West Baltimore, such as Sandtown-Winchester and Harlem Park, that are higher-crime neighborhoods, and that are to be avoided, particularly at night.
"My mom made it happen for us," Whitaker says. "We had family members pass away because of street violence. It was hard growing up in that environment and trying to stay focused on playing football."
The focus became clear through tears that blurred Whitaker's vision immediately after the shooting outside the shopping center in Rosedale that left his best friend dead. A little more than six years have passed, but Whitaker, so jovial in describing the rush of lining up along the edge of the defensive line and rushing the passer, drops his head in contemplation, as the sounds and visions of March 7, 2020, flood back following one K-State football practice in September 2026.
"I was in my early teens, and I was almost lost to my environment," he says. "I'd been around it. It was hard not to become a product of my environment. Rickie's death made me think, 'This is not for me. This isn't the life for me. I want to do what's right for my family.'"
Whitaker pauses.
"I wanted to stay focused on football. I had stuff to prove."
That proving ground continues today, as Whitaker, some 1,200 miles from West Baltimore, is quickly becoming a true talent and a terror for an upstart K-State defense that hasn't allowed an opposing offense to reach the end zone in two games and currently ranks No. 2 in the FBS in total defense.
Whitaker has already recovered two fumbles. Nobody in the nation has more fumble recoveries than Whitaker. He also ranks 12th in the nation in forced fumbles. He had a fumble recovery in both games, including a strip sack and recovery in the Wildcats' 71-3 win over Nicholls — Whitaker's first action on the field as a defensive player. Regarded as the 60th-best linebacker in the nation for the Class of 2025 by On3, Whitaker has seemingly found a home as an edge rusher for the Wildcats, and his stock only seems to climb higher and higher with each play.
Exactly how good could Whitaker be for K-State?
One reporter asks K-State head coach Collin Klein that very question during his weekly news conference on Monday. Klein offers a long stare and shakes his head with a wry grin slapped across his face.
"I told ya," Klein says.
"I'm excited," Klein continues. "Darien's ceiling is extremely high. The great part about what he's doing is he's attacking it and getting better. That's a great thing for him and for our program."
There was a time when none of this seemed possible, of course. As with so many youths across the United States, the COVID pandemic took a toll on Whitaker's academic aspirations, and he had limited options for high school in the West Baltimore area. A youth football coach put Jayme in contact with Boys Town, which since 1917 has been one of the largest nonprofit, nonsectarian child and family care organizations in the country. Whitaker ultimately traveled to attend Boys Town in Omaha, Nebraska, and he lived with Jessica and David Huffman, and Jessica beamed that Whitaker was "the leader of the house," while Boys Town head football coach Chris Nizzie called Whitaker "a very sweet and carrying young man" as evidenced by his desire to ensure that new classmates never ate lunch alone in the cafeteria.
But times were tough. He stayed focused through those blurry eyes as tears welled up each night while talking to his mother on the phone back home in West Baltimore.
"I cried a lot that first year," he says. "I called complaining to my mom, 'I want to come home.' It was really, really hard. But I coped through football. Football was the only time I was happy."
Nizzie understood Whitaker, who over four years grew and harnessed his energy and those emotions into becoming a terror on the football field.
"Iowa State was the first school to show interest in me," Whitaker says. "I played safety and linebacker, and they recruited me for safety. Then I moved from safety to middle linebacker and then to defensive end. Nebraska came along and wanted me to play tight end. I visited Northern Iowa and committed there. Late in the summer before my senior year, I came to camp at K-State, and defensive ends coach Buddy Wyatt offered me."
Washington State and South Florida followed suit with offers of their own.
Why K-State?
"The guys in the locker room, guys who aren't here anymore like VJ Payne, and I met a lot of guys through three different visits to Manhattan," he says. "I got close with the guys before I got close with the coaches."
On December 4, 2024, sitting behind a dark table that read "BOYS TOWN" in big white letters, and wearing a purple hoodie with a large white Powercat across the chest, Whitaker made things official when he donned a purple K-State ballcap, smiled to the audience, and signed his name to his National Letter of Intent to attend K-State and play middle linebacker.
"A lot went through my mind that day, actually," Whitaker says. "I didn't ever think I'd get here. Once I got to K-State, I snapped back into reality, and I was like, 'Let's do this thing.'"
Whitaker had grand plans for his freshman season at K-State. He figured that he would play on special teams and work behind the starting linebackers to really learn the intricacies of the position for the Wildcats. Then disaster struck one week before K-State traveled to face Iowa State in the 2025 season opener in Ireland.
"I was on scout team, intercepted a ball, began running it back, and my foot popped," Whitaker says. "I'd broken the fifth metatarsal in my right foot. It was all downhill from there. I'd never been out of football for that amount of time. They thought it'd be a six-week recovery, and it ended up being three months. I came back for the final two games of the season to play special teams against Utah and Colorado."
Shortly thereafter, Chris Klieman announced his retirement after helping K-State to six seasons with at least eight wins and five bowl appearances in seven years as head coach. Klein was hired to be the next head coach and quickly assembled a coaching staff. Whitaker believed that there was no way that he would be in Klein's plans given that he had absolutely no game film to show from his freshman season at K-State, so he planned to enter the transfer portal. Longtime K-State staffer Taylor Braet phoned Whitaker and told him to hold on.
"Then Coach Klein, Taylor, and new defensive coordinator Jordan Peterson and general manager Trey Scott visited me in Baltimore," Whitaker says. "That's how it all started. I knew these guys were investing in me, so I was going to invest in them and my heart stayed at K-State. It was hard, though. I had been injured and they had nothing to look at — no defensive snaps, nothing. So, when they came, I was like, 'Football is my life.' I knew K-State was the place where I wanted to be, and these were relationships I wanted to build and grow."
Klein grins in recalling that initial visit with Whitaker in the Baltimore airport.
"He just had a really good spirit, a bright accountancy about him," Klein says. "He had a lot of energy, a lot of positive energy, and we'd seen his tape, so we were able to piece tape with frame and length to project what type of player he could be. I could also see when we were with Taylor Braet and Jordan Peterson the relationship and bond he had already built here. He cared about K-State, this program and this place. That got me really excited that the fit in a lot of areas, there was an alignment there. That's important for both sides, for sure. It was a good visit."
And Whitaker is fitting in perfectly within Peterson's defense. The change came after the conclusion of spring practice. That's when Klein, Peterson and defensive line coach Buddy Wyatt met with Whitaker. Peterson said, "We'd like to move you to edge. We think you're one of the best blitzers we have, and you can also do some stuff and be on the point of attack at the line of scrimmage. We're going to try you there."
Peterson saw something that Whitaker couldn't see at the time.
"When they first moved me, I doubted myself, and I told Coach Peterson at the beginning of fall camp, 'I don't know if this is a good idea,'" Whitaker says. "I wasn't making enough plays and didn't think edge was my position. Coach Peterson said, 'Trust me.' I trusted him, stayed down, and shoot, it worked out for the good. We're only two games into the season but this position change is what's best for the team.
"There's a lot more to uncover with my position. Be on the lookout."
Aside from not allowing an offensive touchdown, the defense has allowed just 144.0 total yards — 96.5 rushing yards and 47.5 passing yards — while also possessing the best third-down defense (6-of-28) in the country. K-State ranks No. 1 in passing yards allowed per game, second in total defense, third in scoring defense and 12th in third-down defense.
"It's physicality. We live in physicality," Whitaker says. "You have to have a burn to your 'why,' and why you play hard. You can't teach physicality. You can't teach somebody to be tough, to be hard. You can teach them how to play football, but you have to play with an edge and play hard all the time. That's just something that comes with the game of football — K-State football."
As for Whitaker being tied for first in the FBS in fumble recoveries?
He grins.
"We've preached throughout spring ball, fall camp and in practice — run to the ball," he says. "We want 11 hats to the ball. I run to the ball, the ball gets knocked out, and I make the recovery. It's easy to pick up the ball after it's knocked out."
So far, Whitaker has been a knockout. And there's plenty more to come. The young man, who six years ago, held Rickie in his arms, a world away, carrying visions and emotions that a 13-year-old should never feel, nearly caught in the maw of the West Baltimore machine, the gears, the nastiness, the gunfire, the life, and the potential regrets to follow, now standing still for the first time all day, basking in the air conditioning of a pristine Power 4 football complex, as sunlight pours through wall-sized windows, and a short elevator ride leads to post-practice snacks.
He has learned so much about himself during his journey to this point, and he appears mature beyond his years, and he grins as he speaks, and he says, "Yes, sir," and "No, sir," a lot. But, yes, he has learned so much during this 19-year ride from residing in the city that spells danger at nighttime to a college town atmosphere filled with stadium lights, friendly faces, and the best fan experience in the Big 12 Conference. Once, Manhattan was even dubbed "the happiest place on earth."
"I learned that I have to be strong, not just for me, but for the people around me — my family, my mom, the coaches, everybody," Whitaker says. "You have to be strong, you have to persevere, and you have to be tough. I'm not doing it for me, I'm doing it for my mom, my little brother, my big sister, my nephew. That's why I play with an edge, why I play hard.
"The NFL wasn't always a dream for me. At one point, my dream was to see 25. Now my dream is for me to make it big and put on a show for my mom."
Klein has experienced and has witnessed many great stories throughout his life. The K-State head coach appears to have a soft spot for Whitaker, his desire, his determination, and his zest for life and for football in a made-for-movie tale that isn't even close to being finished.
"It takes courage," Klein says. "That's a big step, betting on yourself and getting out of your comfort zone. It's an incredible young man. The sky's the limit for him.
"It's an incredible story."
Players Mentioned
S
/ Football
LB
/ FootballWednesday, September 16
Tuesday, September 15
Monday, September 14
Monday, September 14
