College Days in Louisville, Kentucky
My first year at Louisville was a lesson in humility. I didn’t play in a single game, and the team struggled, finishing the season with just one win and 10 losses. Frustrated and disheartened, I packed my car and decided I was leaving school and going home. But as I neared Cincinnati, about 20 minutes outside New Richmond, a thought stopped me in my tracks: How was I going to face my dad? Here was a man who had recently returned home after a 27-year career in the U.S. Army. He had been injured in a tanker in Vietnam and he was working hard to walk with a cane. How could I tell him that I had given up. The weight of that conversation made me turn the car around. I headed back to Louisville, determined to dig in, take responsibility, and make the most of the opportunity I had been given.
During spring training drills, Defensive Back Coach Ron Dickerson stepped in and offered me the opportunity to change positions from wide receiver to defensive back. He had observed me on the sidelines, a wide receiver with more potential than playing time, and suggested a shift to the defensive backfield. It was an intriguing idea, but what truly sold me was the prospect of becoming a starter. Embracing this new direction marked a turning point in my football career, setting me on a trajectory that would change everything, not just on the field but in my personal life as well.
Sophomore year, I met my future wife, Joy Maxberry, at an all-campus dorm council meeting. I was vice president of my dorm council, and she was president of her all-girls dorm. I could tell she was a serious student by her appeal to the council board for safety measures of better lighting on campus, while I expressed a vital need for a big screen TV to watch sporting events in the athletic dorm.
In football, not only did I earn a starting position, but our team’s performance improved significantly, and by season’s end, we were invited to play in the Independence Bowl. My best friend was our star running back, Nathan Poole, who was being heavily scouted by National Football League (NFL) teams. NFL scouts requested that he bring another player to work out with, in order to fully exhibit his skills, and Poole always chose me. After one such session, George Perles, defensive coordinator/scout for the Pittsburgh Steelers, told me not to tell other team scouts that I had run an impressive 4.4-second 40-yard dash. He mentioned that I had previously been listed as running the 40 in 4.6 seconds, a less impressive time recorded after a minor knee injury. This conversation was my first indication that there was a possibility that I could be drafted to play in the NFL.
Senior year, NFL Draft Day came along in May. The draft was a two-day-long event, with rounds 1–6 on the first day and rounds 7–12 on the following day. The year 1979 marked the first time ESPN covered the draft, but it wasn’t televised like it is today, and the radio coverage included a 15-second delay. Poole and I were listening to the draft, and as the sixth round came to a close, the Pittsburgh Steelers would have the final pick because they won the Super Bowl the previous season. For those less familiar with the process, the team with the worst record the previous year gets the first pick in each round, while the team with the best record picks last, a system designed to maintain competitive balance in the league.
Poole and I were fairly certain that neither of us would get a call from the Steelers. After all, they had an impressive roster, brimming with talent. On offense, they boasted running backs like Franco Harris, Rocky Bleier, and Sidney Thornton. On defense, they had an all-star lineup of defensive backs: Mel Blount (now a Hall of Famer), Ron Johnson (Rookie of the Year), Larry Anderson (No. 1 punt/kickoff returner in the NFL), Donnie Shell (now a Hall of Famer), J.T. Thomas (All-Pro), Tony Dungy (who led the team in interceptions that year), and Mike Wagner (All-Pro). With a roster like that, I thought, “There’s no way they need me.” So, we turned off the radio and decided to grab something to eat.
Just as we were heading out the door, the landline phone rang. I answered. A voice on the other end said, “Is this Dwayne Woodruff?”
“Yes, this is,” I replied.
“We’ve just drafted you to the Pittsburgh Steelers!” the man announced.
Thinking it was a prank, I responded, “You’re not fooling me,” and hung up the phone. The phone rang again, and the same voice said, “Dwayne, this is George Perles. This is not a prank. Do not hang up. The Pittsburgh Steelers have just drafted you in the sixth round!”
I was ecstatic, but reality quickly set in as I remembered the exceptional talent already on the Steelers roster. I knew that if I had any hope of making the team, I’d need to start preparing immediately. So, instead of celebrating, we headed straight to the gym. The next day, Nathan Poole was drafted by the Cincinnati Bengals in the 11th round, marking another unforgettable moment in what was already a life-changing weekend.
NFL
In stark contrast to the beginning of my college football career, playing and winning started fast and furiously in Pittsburgh. Having won the Super Bowl the year before, the Steelers just took off where they left off, and, amazingly, I was already playing a significant role as the “Nickel-back.” My rookie year was beyond anything I could have imagined. I made critical interceptions in the two play-off games that put us in the Super Bowl again! “Mean Joe” Green’s exact words to me were, “Rookie, we’re gonna play some real football now!” Of course, I felt like we were already playing “some real football.” It’s well known that we beat the Los Angeles Rams in Super Bowl 14! Back then, it was rare for rookies to even get off the bench, much less play a significant role in the Super Bowl. To this day, I’m still tickled when I consider that as a rookie, I won a Super Bowl ring, which is still one of the highlights of my life.
A good friend of mine, John Ames, who was an attorney and a dedicated football booster for the University of Louisville, negotiated my first NFL contract. Back then, contracts were mostly focused on salary and the length of the deal. Together, we settled on a two-year contract with a signing bonus of $5,000 and an additional $5,000 increase in the second year. We also managed to include a few incentives, like an extra $2,500 if I made the All-Rookie team—and when I did, that bonus was a welcome reward. To put it into perspective, the minimum salary now is around $100,000, which is three times what we started at. Despite the modest numbers by today’s standards, I’m grateful for that experience, and John and I remain close friends to this day.
As my career progressed, I did work with agents who negotiated on my behalf, but even before I went to law school, I started taking on the negotiations myself. With a degree in business, I wasn’t too keen on paying agents a significant chunk of my earnings—especially when I wasn’t making much to begin with. I figured I could handle the negotiations on my own. However, looking back, I realize that not having an attorney by my side may have left some opportunities on the table, both on and off the field. There’s a level of expertise in the law that I came to understand much later, expertise that could have furthered my career in ways I hadn’t considered at the time. It’s not just about negotiating contracts; it’s about advocating for the player in every aspect of their career.
I learned this the hard way when, despite leading the team in interceptions in multiple years and even leading the league in interceptions, I still didn’t make the Pro Bowl. It was a stark reminder that sometimes, the right representation can make all the difference in how a career unfolds.
Law School
In 1982, after being honored by my teammates as the MVP of the Pittsburgh Steelers, I began to seriously consider what my next career might be. I was entering my fourth year in the NFL and was fully aware that most football careers lasted only four years. One night, while watching a WQED telethon—a televised fundraiser for public television—one of the auction items was an LSAT prep course. I told my wife that if I won it, I’d go to law school. My competitive nature kicked in, and I kept bidding, calling in at the last minute with my final bid to secure that prep course. My immediate thought after winning was, “Well, now I have to start studying.”
I took the course, did well on the LSAT, and applied to only two law schools and was accepted into both: my alma mater, the University of Louisville, and Duquesne University in Pittsburgh. I was still a starter for the Steelers, so it made sense that I would choose Duquesne’s School of Law, which offered a full-time night law program, allowing me to continue playing football during the day and to travel on the weekends to games. Only the occasional Monday Night Football game would interfere with my classes. From 1984 to 1988, I juggled the demands of law school, football, and family life, knowing that million-dollar contracts weren’t a reality in football at that time and that I needed to prepare for what our head coach, Chuck Noll, often referred to as my “life’s work.”
This full-time law school path had never been taken by an NFL player, and I was only able to do it with the help, primarily, of two wonderful individuals: my wife, Joy, and a law school classmate, Mike Pater. Mike stood out as a tall redhead guy with a friendly face, and we began chatting during orientation, realizing that we would be in all the same first-year classes. When I told him that I’d be at Steelers Training Camp in July and unable to pick up my class schedule or books, Mike immediately offered to help. For all four years of law school, Mike not only picked up my books and supplies but also drove the 44 miles to St. Vincent College in Latrobe, Pennsylvania, to deliver them to me during training camp. We became close friends, studying together and quizzing each other nearly every night until midnight. While many students relied on large study groups, Mike was my sole study partner, and his unwavering support was instrumental in helping me achieve something unprecedented in NFL and professional sports history. He was truly a godsend.
Overcoming Adversity on and off the Field
I was injured in the last preseason game in Dallas, Texas, during the 1986 season. The media criticized the Steelers for even having me, a starter, in a preseason game during those final minutes. The hit on my leg caused my ACL and MCL to separate from the bone. I flew back with the team and had surgery the next day in Pittsburgh. Things were looking bleak, for at that time, this type of injury was considered potentially career-ending, particularly for a cornerback where speed is paramount.
Just days later, the weight of my circumstances grew even heavier. On September 10, 1986, my mom passed away from ovarian cancer at the age of 47. Meanwhile, Joy and I were expecting our third child, due in December. I found myself unable to walk yet on crutches, grieving the loss of my mother and preparing to welcome a new life into the world.
As the 1987 NFL draft approached, it became clear that the Steelers were not counting on my return. Their first-round pick was Rod Woodson, a cornerback; they followed with Delton Hall and Thomas Everett, both defensive backs as well. The message was clear, but so was my resolve—I wasn’t finished yet. Despite the doubts surrounding me, I channeled my energy into rehabilitation, employing innovative training techniques that pushed me beyond my previous limits. I always had been known for my work ethic, but this time, it was about more than just hard work; it was about proving that I could overcome the odds.
I returned to the Steelers the very next season, stronger and faster than before, reclaiming my position as the No. 1 defensive back and leading the team in interceptions once again. My efforts were recognized with the Ed Block Courage Award as the Steelers comeback player of the year.
Reflecting on that year, I realize how much I was carried by the support around me. The Lord provided in ways I couldn’t have anticipated. Joy packed up our kids every day to drive me to law school. My classmates opened doors for me as I hobbled through on crutches, and Mike Pater, my steadfast study partner, carried my books and drove me home each night. He even took the time to play with my kids, building forts with them out of large boxes and crawling in with them, bringing delight to those days. Despite the challenges, I had more time to study during the day and more precious time to spend with my newborn son, John B. Woodruff II, named for my dad.
Not only did I make a successful comeback, but I also played three more seasons with the Steelers, serving as team captain in my final years. At the end of my career, I was fourth on the Steelers all-time interception list, with 37 interceptions. That period of my life ultimately strengthened my character and resolve.
A Dual Career
I graduated from Duquesne University School of Law in May 1988 and immediately began preparing for the bar exam. As the Steelers team captain, I often found myself as the unofficial spokesperson for the players, with my locker surrounded by reporters eager for insights about the upcoming game or the latest NFL controversy. In fact, my efforts in this role were recognized with “The Chief” award, given to the player who best represents the team in public and with the media—my name is the first on the plaque in the Steelers facility.
One of the most frequent questions I faced during that time was whether I had passed the bar exam. The news had been abuzz with stories about John F. Kennedy Jr., who had famously struggled with the bar, failing it multiple times. However, I passed on my first attempt. The news didn’t draw much fanfare; only one television station, WPXI, sent sports reporter Dee Thompson with a camera crew to my home for an interview. I suspect the story might have garnered more attention had I failed.
With the bar exam behind me, I was ready to begin practicing law. My original plan was to join a small firm where I could gain trial experience while continuing my football career. But, as Proverbs 16:9 reminds us, “In their hearts humans plan their course, but the Lord establishes their steps.” I was unexpectedly invited to join one of Pittsburgh’s largest and most prestigious law firms—Meyer Darragh, Buckler, Bebenek & Eck. They gave me a corner office on the penthouse floor of the historic Frick Building, which was a surreal experience for a quiet kid from Kentucky who had grown up on Army bases.
Meyer Darragh specialized in product liability and defense work, counting General Motors Corporation among its clients. One of the firm’s name partners, Carl Eck, became my mentor and taught me the nuances of case preparation and litigation.
My first solo case came during my first year at the firm, and it happened somewhat unexpectedly. It was an insurance defense case involving a student who had severed some fingers in a shop class accident. Initially, I was supposed to handle the trial alongside a senior partner, but at the last minute, the partner was called away on an emergency, leaving me to manage the case on my own. Despite being a lawyer for less than a year, I took on the challenge, prepared thoroughly, and secured a verdict for the defense. While the partners were pleased with the outcome, they later pointed out that the firm could have faced significant risks had we lost, given my limited experience at the time. Was I nervous? No, not at all. I had put in the work and felt fully prepared to take on the responsibility.
This new job thrust me into a dual career, practicing law while still playing professional football for the Steelers. This was unprecedented in the professional sports world. For three years, I had the best of both worlds, and I thoroughly enjoyed both: walking onto the field for the coin toss before thousands of fans as the Steelers captain on Sundays and then returning to the courtroom during the week to pursue justice. Both careers required meticulous preparation, strategic thinking, and the ability to act quickly under pressure. The only difference was that in law, I couldn’t tackle anyone. However, just like in football, the excitement is one on one. You come face to face with your opponent, and you fight to see who is going to be the best. The one who is most skilled and most prepared is the one that comes out on top. “Proper preparation prevents poor performance” is a quote from Dave Bing, National Basketball Association Hall of Famer, that explains my adopted philosophy.
After 12 incredible years in the NFL, I became the last of the Super Bowl Steelers to retire. My transition from football to law wasn’t difficult because I had given everything I had to the game, and I was ready and excited to start the next chapter of my life. After retirement, I didn’t miss football—I didn’t even attend a game for five years. I had a new career to focus on, and I wanted to be the best at it. Law isn’t something that’s guaranteed; you have to work at it, and I was ready to put all my energy into practicing law.
I continued my relationship with the Rooney family throughout my career. Art Rooney Sr., the owner of the Steelers, was like a second father to me. He called me “The Barrister” because of my leadership on the team and interest in law. Art’s son Dan would later call me “The Judge” when I became a lawyer. The Rooney family’s support was unwavering, and Art Rooney II even influenced my decision to go to law school, as he was finishing his own law degree at the time. Art Rooney Sr. passed away in 1988, and at his funeral, I realized just how many lives he had touched. He used to handwrite letters to me during his travels, and I thought I was special—until I learned that he did the same for many other players. It was humbling to realize that I wasn’t the only one he had taken an interest in, but it also deepened my respect for him and his family.
NFL Alumni and Advocacy
After retiring, I stayed connected to the NFL through the Players Association union, representing retired players. Every team has a representative in the Players Association, and I had served as the Steelers’ player representative for two years prior to retirement. While the voices of current players are the loudest, retired players like me still have a say in matters like the retirement package and serve as a liaison and mentor for current players. One recent change we negotiated was to have retirement benefits based on the number of years played rather than on salaries. This shift ensures that all players, regardless of their earnings during their careers, receive fair retirement compensation.
My role also involves providing information to players regarding their future and medical care. Before the union, once you retired, your medical care was no longer covered. We worked to ensure that players are better prepared for their futures, discussing insurance options and opportunities for education. I paid for law school out of my own pocket, but now teams cover the cost for players to return to school.
The collective bargaining agreement, which every player is enrolled in, is crucial for negotiating with the NFL to benefit the players. It covers aspects like the minimum and maximum salaries each team can pay, how long you have to play before you’re vested and qualified to receive benefits, and other critical issues. When I played, the vesting period was four years; now, it’s just one.
During my career, we went on strike twice. We fought to reduce the number of preseason games to lower the risk of injury before the season as players were paid only for games that occurred during the season. We also addressed the length of the season, decreasing from 17 weeks to 12 weeks. Issues like minimum wage, safety on the field, health insurance, and injury compensation all were part of the negotiations. Back then, contracts weren’t guaranteed—if you didn’t play, you didn’t get paid. If you were cut due to injury, you were left with nothing. Today, thanks to being aligned with legal representatives and the power of collective bargaining, most contracts include guaranteed money, so even if a player is injured and not playing, they still receive most of their compensation. Things are significantly better for players today because of the changes we fought for and achieved.
Journey to Judgeship
In keeping with a common theme in my life, I never thought about becoming a judge until the opportunity arose. Many people encouraged me to run for judge, but I didn’t take it seriously until Judge Walter Little, an African American judge suffering from cancer, told me that I would have the opportunity to truly make a difference in people’s lives through a judgeship, and he believed that with all the volunteer work that I had done and with the “integrity and character” that people saw in me, I would have a good chance of winning, should I run. Despite his encouragement, the timing wasn’t right because my father, a quadriplegic, was living with us and needed my care.
Later, Judge J. Warren Watson appointed me as a “special master” on a case, giving me my first exposure to the judicial process. I gained insight into how judges make decisions and the profound impact those decisions have on people’s lives. Judge Watson also believed the court system needed more minority judges and felt I had the intellect and demeanor to be effective in that role. When my father passed away in 2003, the confidence these two judges had in me solidified my decision to run. In 2004, Joy and I began my campaign across Allegheny County.
I was drawn to work in the juvenile court because I believed I could set a positive example for the kids who came through the system. My goal was to show them that hard work could lead to success, regardless of their starting point. I don’t believe there are inherently bad kids—just kids in difficult circumstances who may make poor decisions. My mission was to equip them with the tools and guidance they needed to succeed. Additionally, I strongly believe that the bench should reflect the diversity of the community it serves. Winning the election as the No. 1 vote-getter was both exciting and humbling, as the community placed its trust in me. I was determined not to let them down and promptly chose to begin my role in family court.
The transition from lawyer to judge was not difficult, though it brought a significant shift in responsibility. I was now the decision-maker, focused not on arguing which side was right but on determining which side the law supported. In juvenile court, I serve as both judge and jury, often making tough decisions that can profoundly impact lives. I draw on my experiences as a parent and someone who has faced challenges, ensuring my decisions are informed by both the law and compassion.
After winning the election, I stepped back from being named partner in my law firm, ready for the changes that came with this new chapter. While I could no longer practice sports and entertainment law, I was prepared to move forward. My partners continued their paths successfully, and I did the same.
My love of sports has continued, and what I miss most about football isn’t the game itself but the camaraderie—the locker room banter and the shared goal of winning. The best part of winning was that we did it together. Chuck Noll, my head coach, had always been consistent in his approach. He wasn’t a cheerleader; he expected us to learn and do our jobs correctly. His emphasis on preparation and expectations equipped me well for life after football. I applied the same principles as a lawyer and judge: Be prepared, stay calm in new situations, and act decisively when necessary. As a judge, I have more time to deliberate, but the confidence I gained on the football field helps me make those decisions with conviction. I listen, I prepare, and I interpret the law with the same focus and dedication I brought to the game.
Reflecting on my journey, I’ve always been someone who prepared meticulously—whether it was for a football game, stepping into the courtroom as a lawyer, or making decisions as a judge. In each of those roles, I was confident and ready, never nervous, because I understood my role and cared deeply about the people I served. But nothing truly prepared me for the role of being a parent, which remains the most rewarding part of my life, surpassing all the extraordinary experiences I’ve had the privilege to undertake.
There is no playbook for parenthood, and it presented its own unique challenges, especially given the demands of my professional football career, which often required me to be physically absent due to travel and practices. During those times, my wife, Joy, shouldered the greater share of the responsibilities. I’m grateful every day that I chose the best person to be my life partner and the mother of our children. Together, we have navigated the challenges of parenthood and watched our children grow into successful, remarkable individuals. Jillian, our oldest, is an OB/GYN physician married to an anesthesiologist; Jenyce, our middle daughter, is a corporate attorney married to an engineer; and John, our youngest, is an attorney and Marine Corps major, married to a teacher. I often find myself as the subject of a running joke in our family: the story of a father who started with a lucrative career in the NFL, transitioned to a less lucrative career as an attorney, and eventually retired as a humble public servant in juvenile court. It’s a narrative that humbles me every time I hear it.
Although I missed the era of million-dollar contracts by just a few years, I feel incredibly blessed to have played during the lifetime of Steelers founder and owner Art Rooney I. His daily visits to the Steelers facility following Catholic mass were a testament to his deep character and genuine care for the players, which served as a source of inspiration for me. The Rooney family has carried on his legacy—Art Rooney Sr., the late Dan Rooney, Art Rooney Jr., and Art Rooney II—each of whom has been an example worth emulating. I never could have imagined that I would have the privilege of knowing each of them personally or living the life I’ve led. Yet, as the Bible reminds us in Proverbs 16:9, “In their hearts humans plan their course, but the Lord establishes their steps.” My life is a testament to this truth—while I had my plans, the path that unfolded was far greater than anything I could have dreamed.