Senior Spaight excelling

In this Oct. 18, 2014, photo, Arkansas linebacker Martrell Spaight defends against Georgia during an NCAA college football game in Little Rock, Ark. Spaight feels like he's always had to overcome something, from a childhood speech impediment to doubts by college coaches about his size. (AP Photo/Danny Johnston)

— Before Martrell Spaight was an elite Southeastern Conference linebacker at Arkansas, he was just Mark's little brother.

He was the kid who high school teammates cracked jokes about because of a slight speech impediment, the one who fell even farther into his older brother's shadow after a lawn mower accident cost him his sophomore season — along with nearly his right foot.

Who Spaight was, and who he is now, share very little in common with each other.

Except for the fact that the senior — third in the SEC with 97 tackles and the pulse of a resurgent Arkansas defense — is fueled every day by the emotionally trying journey that's led him back to a starring role on his home state's biggest stage.

"Honestly, if I didn't have all that stuff driving me, I'm not too sure where I'd be," Spaight said. "I may be in this position, I may not have been. But I know going through all that, I'm very thankful for all the stuff I've been through."

While Arkansas fans rushed the field to celebrate the end of a 17-game SEC losing streak with a 17-0 win over LSU last week, Mark Spaight — Martrell's dad — took a moment in Razorback Stadium to reflect on just how far his son had come.

His boy, the one staff members under former Arkansas coach Bobby Petrino said was "too small" to play in the SEC, had proven his doubters wrong.

"To have coaches saying what you can't do, and then you're here doing it, that's fun," Mark Spaight said. "I think I was most excited about that moment for him."

Even during the moments after he was born, nearly dying after his oxygen was cut off because his umbilical cord was wrapped tightly around his neck, nothing has come easy in life for Martrell Spaight.

The difficult childbirth left Spaight with occasional problems pronouncing his Ls, a minor speech issue he's worked hard to overcome as an adult — but one that led him to fend off the usual childhood taunts and teasing with an emotional wall.

Making Spaight's youth more difficult was his admiration and occasional jealousy over the success of his older brother. Two years Spaight's senior, Mark Spaight Jr. was a star football player in high school at North Little Rock, eventually playing at Division II Southern Arkansas.

The brothers' relationship was, and is, as solid as they come, but it was tested — particularly when the lawn mower accident left Martrell Spaight unable to play as a sophomore, as his brother had done two years earlier.

"I've never told my brother this, but the fact I heard people doubting me and praising him," Spaight said, "I kind of disliked my brother for a moment there, but I told myself, 'You can't hold it against him for doing good.'"

The lawn mower blade sliced open the big toe on Spaight's right foot, a pain he said felt "like I stepped in a fire ant pile." While only stiches were needed to mend the wound, his season — an opportunity to live up to his older brother's accomplishments and perform for college recruiters — was lost.

When he did finally make it on to the field in high school, Spaight was a star in his own right. He attended a camp at Arkansas, where the linebacker — who hadn't yet morphed into the 6-foot, 232-pound version he is today — was told there was little interest.

Disappointed, Spaight considered joining his brother at Southern Arkansas before deciding to spend two years at Coffeyville Community College in Kansas. It was there Spaight showed colleges across the country what he could do against bigger and better competition, earning two-time All-American status.

Scholarship offers eventually came from Rutgers and Kansas State, where he committed to play, but the school Spaight really wanted to attend — Arkansas — was mired in a season of uncertainty following Petrino's firing and still wasn't interested.

It was only after the newly hired Bret Bielema called to set up a last-day recruiting visit at his grandparents' house that Spaight realized the school he had grown up cheering for might finally offer a scholarship.

"I was trying to act all professional, but once I got off the phone I was running all around the house jumping around," Spaight said.

Needless to say, Spaight accepted Bielema's offer — joining the Razorbacks prior to last season and quickly becoming known for his crushing tackles. His teammates even took to saying an offensive player had been "Spaighted" after one of the punishing hits.

Not everything, however, went as smoothly for Spaight in his first season last year. He struggled to keep his confidence while trying to impress former defensive coordinator Chris Ash, playing in only nine games and making 22 tackles.

That led to a newfound commitment to film study in the offseason, a trend that's continued this year as Spaight has become a fixture in big plays for Arkansas under new defensive coordinator Robb Smith.

Bielema even pointed out last week that the linebacker was at the football complex watching game video on a Friday night during the Razorbacks bye week before the LSU game. The result was Arkansas' first shutout in SEC play since 2002, with Spaight's team-high 10 tackles — including a sack and forced fumble — leading the way.

"The entire team loves him, and his coaches ... Just to see him have success is pretty fun," Bielema said.

Bielema has made it clear he believes this season's success will propel Spaight to a once-unexpected future in the professional ranks.

If that turns out to be the case, it will happen with the same mix of appreciation and desire to prove doubters wrong that has sparked Spaight's emergence this season.

"The chip will never leave my shoulder," Spaight said. "I'll keep the chip every single place I go."