PITTSBURGH — The walls of Najee Harris’ comfortable, three-story townhouse reflect his remarkable rise to prominence.
Above one stairway sits a framed Giants jersey, from the time Harris threw out the ceremonial first pitch last season in San Francisco. Another framed Pirates jersey marks another first pitch in Pittsburgh. A colorful painting shows him in full flight, majestically hurdling a Notre Dame defender for Alabama in the Rose Bowl game on Jan. 1.
Harris’ choices downstairs strike a different tone, including artwork of John Carlos and Tommie Smith raising black-gloved fists at the 1968 Mexico City Olympics. Another painting depicts author James Baldwin. In the kitchen, waiting for its spot on the wall, rests a striking photo of former heavyweight boxing champion Muhammad Ali.
These count as rewards for Harris’ perseverance. He traced an adventurous journey, from a difficult upbringing that included stretches of homelessness … to a decorated career at Antioch High School, where he became the nation’s No. 1 recruit and the leading rusher in Bay Area prep history … to two restless years at Alabama, followed by two record-breaking seasons there … to first-round draft choice of one of the NFL’s most storied franchises.
Harris, 23, was the first offensive player selected by the Pittsburgh Steelers in the first round since 2012. They immediately made him their featured running back and reshaped their offense around him, a nod to his sturdy frame (6-foot-1, 232 pounds), polished skills and uncommon maturity.
But even as Harris savors the trappings of success, he also finds himself trapped by success. As he sat at his kitchen table one night last week, Harris spoke of an adult autograph seeker aggressively knocking on his car window, running alongside the vehicle and holding up his bloody arm as evidence of his fandom after he fell while following Harris.
Another fan spent more than two hours waiting by Harris’ car outside a local restaurant, claiming he wrote down the license plate number after seeing him drive away from the team’s practice facility. Yet another fan unnerved Harris by inexplicably announcing his street address at a mall (the man lived there previously, it turned out).
Steelers running back Najee Harris, an Antioch High alum, checks his phone during dinner at his home in suburban Pittsburgh on Nov. 16. Harris, 23, carries heavy responsibilities for the Steelers during his rookie season in the NFL.
Carlos Avila Gonzalez/The Chronicle
So it’s no coincidence Harris — who lived in a high-crime neighborhood in Antioch, taking what his mom viewed as a treacherous daily walk to school — preferred a quiet, out-of-the-way Pittsburgh suburb. He acknowledged that’s partly a byproduct of his past, when he really didn’t have a quiet, out-of-the-way option.
“It’s the world we live in, how I was raised and the circumstances I have to deal with,” Harris said. “I mean, it ain’t hard to find out if I’m gone or home. Just look on TV every Sunday. People know the exact time I play and they know when I’m going to be out of town. …
“I like staying in, and I like my own space to get away from football.”
Harris realized the challenge of carving out his own space the moment he arrived in Pittsburgh on April 30, the day after the NFL draft began. Television cameras swarmed him at the airport. Strangers applauded wildly as he walked through the terminal.
Harris is accustomed to the spotlight — he became nationally known as a high school sophomore, and he played at a college football powerhouse — even if it often aggravates him.
He likes his neighbors and quickly struck up friendships with two elementary school kids who live nearby. But he also lamented the time some people stood in front of his car as he pulled up, wanting to talk to him. Harris just wanted to go home.
Now he’s planning to move, in perpetual search of peace and solitude.
“They’re relentless at Bama,” he said of the most avid fans, “but they’re more relentless here.”
Najee Harris cleans up his sitting room at his home in suburban Pittsburgh on Nov. 16. Harris embaces the daily grind of life in the NFL, but he’s not wild about the 24/7 attention.
Carlos Avila Gonzalez/The Chronicle
These cynical moments might surface more often now than they did in his Antioch days, but in many ways Harris remains goofy and good-natured, just like always.
During a 2½-hour visit at his home, he paused to keep a commitment with the University of Pittsburgh sports business association, which is co-sponsoring an upcoming holiday toy drive with Harris’ charitable foundation. He spoke to students on a Zoom call, disarming them with his joking, engaging manner.
Or witness his ESPN Deportes interview on Nov. 8, after the Steelers beat Chicago on Monday Night Football. Harris took the microphone from his interviewer and spoke directly to the camera in his limited, lively Spanish. Later, he animatedly began singing and dancing.
Najee Harris emocionado por la victoria, incluso quería adelantar la Navidad.
@espnsutcliffe pic.twitter.com/jIvNbE4rLc
— ESPN Deportes (@ESPNDeportes) November 9, 2021
Asked about showing his personality more freely now, Harris said, “I can be myself. There’s not a lot of rules put on me. … It’s like letting a bird fly on its own. Just let me fly, motherf—.”
Harris’ ascent to professional football allows him to fly in fresh directions. In the 10-plus months since he left Alabama, he signed endorsement deals with Nike and Fanatics, developed his own clothing line, shot a commercial for a Pittsburgh law firm and launched his non-profit.
Da’ Bigger Picture Foundation mostly seeks to address homelessness and hunger, in the Bay Area and Pittsburgh. Harris, his four siblings and their single mom, Tianna Hicks, bounced between the East Bay and Seattle throughout his childhood, often worried about food and shelter. They spent time living in a van near Golden Gate Park.
Harris, through his foundation, is working to help the Richmond homeless shelter where the family once stayed. Hicks similarly plans to open a food bank and community resource center at Antioch High, where Harris graduated in January 2017.
This full-circle element leaves Hicks reflecting on her family’s long, tumultuous road, and her youngest child hitting it big.
Najee Harris stands with his mom, Tianna Hicks, outside one of his favorite restaurants overlooking downtown Pittsburgh after a game against the Detroit Lions on Nov. 14. Hicks, who now lives near Sacramento, has attended all of the Steelers’ home games.
Carlos Avila Gonzalez/The Chronicle
“Najee is living his dream,” Hicks said. “… He’s a businessman now. With all he’s got going on, he’s still doing stuff to help the homeless and feed the hungry, and doing things for his family. I’m just proud of him.”
Harris met with Gov. Gavin Newsom in Mountain View in June, to promote state efforts to combat homelessness. Newsom and Harris taped a short video conversation, in which Harris explained his family history and desire to make an impact in the community.
Last week, he spoke earnestly of the “domino effect” of professional athletes helping people, who in turn could help someone else. As Harris put it, “We’ve got people in the world who can do that, but we’ve also got some who buy jewelry and just want to flash it everywhere and tell you how much money they got.”
Harris has plenty of money now — he signed a four-year, $13.05 million contract with the Steelers in May — but he set a monthly budget and tries to stick to it. He allowed himself some splurges: two nice cars for himself, one for his mom, the artwork.
Tianna Hicks, Najee Harris’ mom, watches the Steelers-Lions game on Nov. 14 with Dieontae Malan, Najee’s childhood friend. The game at Heinz Field in Pittsburgh ended in a 16-16 tie.
Carlos Avila Gonzalez/The Chronicle
All the while, he adapts to life in Pittsburgh. He likes western Pennsylvania better than Alabama — he wasn’t fond of the South — but adapting to the onset of winter still marks a new challenge, given his Bay Area background.
“You gotta buy different tires in different weather,” he said, almost incredulously. “But I cope with things quick.”
Harris finds elusive serenity in the voice of motivational speaker Les Brown, a favorite since high school. Brown’s messages resonate with Harris, who finds them relaxing and inspirational. And he doesn’t feel the burden of expectations from Brown, as he does nearly everywhere else he turns.
For all of Harris’ skepticism about adults — which dates to Antioch, where grown men occasionally stopped by his apartment unannounced — he’s drawn to younger fans. Take the scene Nov. 14 at Heinz Field in Pittsburgh, before the Steelers played the Detroit Lions.
Harris was completing warmups on the field when he spotted Blake Keller, a 10-year-old from Harrisburg, Pa. Blake held a handmade sign declaring it was his first Steelers game, so Harris wandered over to the railing before returning to the locker room.
Pittsburgh Steelers running back Najee Harris, an Antioch High alum, offers his cleats to 10-year-old Blake Keller of Harrisburg, Pa., before a game against Detroit on Nov. 14.
Carlos Avila Gonzalez/The Chronicle
He gave Blake a choice between his cleats and his gloves. Blake chose the cleats, Harris signed one and the kid suddenly had a memorable souvenir.
“Blake still can’t believe it,” his dad, Jon Keller, said four days later.
Steelers fans quickly embraced Harris, in part because they longed for a young star to reinvigorate their team’s offense. Pittsburgh has won six Super Bowl championships, tied with New England for most in NFL history ahead of the 49ers and Dallas Cowboys (five each), but Steelers tradition hinges mostly on defense.
Pittsburgh hasn’t won a title since the 2008 season, so the selection of Harris in April, with the 24th overall pick in the draft, was widely hailed as a major building block. He became the first offensive skill-position player — quarterback, running back or wide receiver — taken by the Steelers in the first round since running back Rashard Mendenhall in ’08.
This helps explain the various spectators wearing Harris’ No. 22 jersey as they streamed into the stadium for the Lions game. In a highly unscientific survey, the only jerseys more popular were No. 7 (quarterback Ben Roethlisberger) and No. 90 (linebacker T.J. Watt).
Jaime Diaz, one of the fans wearing Harris’ jersey, connected his rugged style to the team’s rich history.
“I think he brings a lot of life to the team where there might not have been in past seasons,” Diaz said. “He’s very physical, which reminds me a lot of old Steelers running backs. That means a lot to me, being a Steelers fan my whole life.”
Jacob Colbus holds up a Najee Harris jersey, trying to get Harris’ attention, before the Steelers played the Lions in Pittsburgh on Nov. 14. Harris gained 105 yards on 26 carries in the game.
Carlos Avila Gonzalez/The Chronicle
Harris shoulders much responsibility in his rookie season. He averaged 14 carries and 46 yards rushing through four games, when the Steelers were 1-3. Head coach Mike Tomlin then “mandated” Harris receive about 25 attempts per game, according to Harris, and he has averaged 22 carries and 83 yards since then. The Steelers are 4-1-1 in those games.
He also stands eighth in the NFL in rushing with 685 yards, and second among running backs with 49 catches.
But Harris’ imprint stretches deeper than shiny statistics. Tomlin pointed to his ready-made work habits, a sharp contrast to many rookies who arrive in the NFL unaware of what it requires to last, let alone thrive.
“Some guys don’t like the drudgery that comes with the business,” Tomlin said. “It’s a necessary evil to them. Najee appears to like training, taking care of his body and watching what he eats. That’s a passion of his and I think it helps him stay ready and stay healthy.”
And what has Tomlin learned about Harris in their first season together?
“He’s a people watcher,” Tomlin said. “I think that’s aided his growth and development. He watches veteran players and he listens very well, which allows him to take and retain instruction.”
Najee Harris (22) stiff-arms Detroit’s Jalen Reeves-Maybin (44) on his way to the end zone during a game at Heinz Field in Pittsburgh. The apparent touchdown was called back because of a penalty.
Carlos Avila Gonzalez/The Chronicle
Harris may become frustrated with the public life of an NFL player, but he embraces the day-to-day grind, as Tomlin suggested. This traces to long-ago workouts with personal trainer Marcus Malu, at a modest gym on a scruffy Antioch side street.
Now Harris looks forward to regular yoga sessions, to put his body in unusual positions to prepare for the tackles he must endure in games. He wears his pads throughout the Steelers’ facility, he said, because he’s still excited about practice and working on his craft.
At the same time, he’s all too aware of the risks of his craft — most notably, chronic traumatic encephalopathy, a progressive brain condition linked to repeated blows to the head. Also, one study found the average career of an NFL running back lasts only 2.57 years, shorter than any other position.
“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about that, especially with how many carries I’m getting,” Harris said. “ … I take a lot of helmet-to-helmet hits. I black out a lot of times. I see someone is going to hit me, then it just goes dark and then I wake up.”
No, he’s not in Antioch anymore. Or Alabama. He’s living his NFL dream, and it comes with complications.
Ron Kroichick is a San Francisco Chronicle staff writer. Email: rkroichick@sfchronicle.com Twitter: @ronkroichick
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