For former Georgia football players, even those from more than 30 years ago, it’s not uncommon for complete strangers to approach them as if they’re lifelong friends, seeking to discuss—what else?—Bulldogs’ football. For Jim Hickey, a Georgia player from 1984-1987, such is the case. Except instead of approaching him to talk about his days playing for the Bulldogs, some UGA enthusiasts would rather discuss Hickey’s association with, of all subjects, a murder victim—one whose case’s investigation file is the largest ever assembled by the Georgia Bureau of Investigation (GBI).
“I was at a lettermen’s function not long ago, and some girl—a complete stranger—came up and started talking to me like she knew me,” Hickey said from his workplace in Dallas, Texas. “And, it was all because of the podcast about the murder case.”
The podcast, Up and Vanished hosted by Atlanta filmmaker Payne Lindsey, has received credit for helping solve the case of the 2005 disappearance of Tara Grinstead, a 30-year-old school teacher living in Ocilla, Georgia, when she vanished. The 24-episode podcast, which began two years ago and has since been downloaded a total numbering in the hundreds of millions, is believed to have ultimately led to two arrests made by the GBI in early 2017 for the murder of Grinstead, 12 years after her disappearance.
Hickey, who was working in educational software sales at the time, was introduced to Grinstead by a mutual friend. Leading up to her disappearance on October 22, 2005, the pair went out a couple of times and exchanged a few texts and emails—nothing more. Still, since he had recently interacted with the missing school teacher by receiving a text from her the night she vanished, Hickey was questioned by the GBI as a person of interest.
More than a decade later, in December of 2016 as part of the podcast’s ninth episode (The Glove), Hickey recounted what little he knew concerning the Grinstead incident. During the episode, he stated in passing he had played football at Georgia during the 1980s. And, with that—a mere mention he had played for the Bulldogs—Hickey instantly became distinguished more so as a former UGA player associated with the Grinstead case than the fact he had miraculously played football for Georgia in the first place.
Because his father served as a contractor for the military, Hickey often moved when he was young before settling in Shalimar, Florida, a small town just north of Fort Walton Beach. Attending Choctawhatchee High School in the early 1980s, he decided to go out for the football team whereby, you could say, he was instantly and permanently sidelined.
“I was on the football team, and I practiced and all. I just didn’t play,” Hickey said. “Seriously, in three years of high school, I think I stepped on the field during a game one time.”
Growing from 5-foot-9 and 155 pounds as a sophomore to 6-foot-6 and 185 pounds just two years later, instead of Hickey developing into a bonafide prep football player, his rapid growth instead resulted in him being highly uncoordinated and awkward, leading to having low self-confidence. Finally, but not until the following year while attending school at a local community college, Hickey did fully develop into a major college-caliber athlete—and how.
Standing at 6-foot-7 and 230 pounds, while suddenly possessing uncanny agility and speed for a 19-year-old his size, Hickey was running sprints on the track at his old school one day with a friend, Todd Gatlin, an all-state linebacker who would soon be heading to the University of Florida on a football scholarship. Three men, who had been observing a Choctawhatchee football practice, abruptly turned their attention from the gridiron and started to race towards the track. The men, football recruiters representing Florida, Florida State, and North Carolina, were obviously fully aware of Gatlin’s identity.
“Then, one of the recruiters turned to me and asked, ‘But, who are you?’” Hickey recalled. “And, I replied, ‘I am nobody.’ The same guy then said, ‘Well, I want your nobody-ass to come play football for my school.’”
Each of the three recruiters wanted Hickey to walk on to their respective school. The late-bloomer had actually contemplated walking on to play college football, but he preferred to do so at a school where he was already familiar with a player ingrained in the program, like the University of Georgia. Before moving to Shalimar, Hickey had lived in Warner Robins, Georgia, where he played middle school football and became close friends with Steve Boswell, a linebacker who would later sign with the Bulldogs. Eventually starring for Warner Robins High School, Boswell would be recognized as one of the top overall prospects in the state in 1983. A year later, he served as an introduction for his old friend, Hickey, to walk on at Georgia.
“Although I had never played tight end before—ever—I tried out at the position on the JV (junior varsity) team because there was an opportunity for me to play there,” Hickey said. “As a scout team player, I went 110 percent at every practice because that’s when I could display my ability and effort. Some starters didn’t particularly like that I put in so much effort, so I got into a lot of fights.”
Still, more so than getting into fights, Hickey started to distinguish himself otherwise at practice. He worked hard, ran well, and was considered one of the best-conditioned athletes on the team. During his second year, Hickey’s hard work paid off when he was unexpectedly promoted from the junior varsity to the varsity squad. As a junior in 1986, despite playing behind two gifted underclassmen at his position, Troy Sadowski and Kirk Warner, Hickey was often sent into games as a short-yardage tight end.
At the time, Hickey was not on scholarship and, more so, lacked the self-confidence to fully succeed playing major college football, especially when faced with one of the most intimidating venues in the sport. During a close, night-time affair against LSU on the road in front of a raucous crowd at Tiger Stadium, he entered the game as one of two tight ends in a short-yardage situation.
“James (quarterback James Jackson) calls the play—‘Left 58,’ where the tailback sweeps to my side, and I’m already staring across the line at outside linebacker Eric Hill (eventual 10th overall pick in the draft, 11 seasons in the NFL),” Hickey recalled. “I thought I needed one play to warm-up so, in the huddle, I asked our starting tight end if we could swap sides in order for the play to come his way and he take on Hill. He looked right at me and replied, ‘Nope, Left 58 was called.’ Needless to say, I was already beat before the play even got started because I was thinking so much.”
Indeed, as teammate Lars Tate swept to Hickey’s side, the tight end was promptly tossed to the ground like a dishrag by Hill, who nailed the tailback behind the line for a four-yard loss. “It was my first, and last play of the ’86 LSU game,” said Hickey, who was promptly removed from the contest following the play.
Things quickly turned around for Hickey the following week against Vanderbilt at home. Again, used primarily on short-yardage plays, he was recognized as having a hand in the Bulldogs rushing for over 300 yards and scoring four touchdowns on the ground in a 38-16 victory. However, during the week following Hickey’s standout performance, he was demoted to the scout team for disciplinary reasons. Still, despite being a non-scholarship player who, at times, had difficulties remaining on the field when he did see playing time, Hickey was fully confident as he approached his senior season that he had to be one of the most fortuitous players in football.
“Here I am, a walk-on from Fort Walton Beach, Florida, who really didn’t play football in high school,” Hickey said. “Yet, I had lined up on Saturday afternoons playing for the University of Georgia.”
Editor's Note: The second installment of Patrick Garbin's two-part "A 'Nobody' No More" will be posted in a couple of days.
