CLEMSON, S.C. -- Nearly every day, Clemson defensive end Clelin Ferrell can count on a text message from his mom. He's the youngest -- by far -- of nine and away from home, so Faye Farrell still feels a need to baby her boy, even if, at 6-foot-5, 265 pounds, her boy is most certainly a full-grown man.

She'll text a bible verse or a wise quote she'd heard. She calls, too. He doesn't always call back right away, but Faye knows it's just Clelin looking for some space. He's still thinking of her, about the advice she's shared most often.

"I always tell him to just ask what your mama would do," Faye said. "Ask that question, and I'm pretty sure you'll get a good answer."

Faye and her late-husband Cleavester were lifers in the military and always ran a tight ship. Whether Clelin wanted it to or not, those values rubbed off. His teammates and coaches at Clemson see it.

"He's got those big, broad shoulders," said Christian Wilkins, Clelin's teammate on the defensive line. "He just looks like a military guy, so we tease him about that."

Defensive coordinator Brent Venables joked that he never has to discipline Clelin for anything because Faye is already keeping him in line.

That isn't to say Clelin has had a straight path to Clemson and the burgeoning career ahead of him. In fact, that military environment pushed him to test his limits often until mama would reel him back in.

"He's no angel," Faye said.

But if Clelin didn’t always learn his lessons enthusiastically, Faye made sure he knew what was important. As he closes out his first season as a starter for the Tigers, he's putting those lessons to good use as Clemson makes a final push toward the College Football Playoff.

Through eight games, Clelin ranks third on the team in tackles for loss (6) and second in sacks (4). He stepped into a starting role after two years away from the game. While there was rust to shake off, he's made an impact from Day 1. And the way Venables sees it, this is just the beginning.

"To me, he's a rocket ship," Venables said. "It hasn’t quite gotten to orbit yet, but it's on its way up."

Along the way to that orbit, Faye is keeping careful watch. She won't let Clelin fall.

Clelin was a freshman in high school when his father got sick. It was a brutal year. He wanted to go to a public high school with his friends from the neighborhood, but Cleavester and Faye had other plans. Clelin was enrolled at Benedictine High School in Richmond, Virginia, an all-boys military school where academics and a pressed uniform had to come before football and fun.

"That doesn't sound good for anyone," Clelin said. "It was like prison."

Clelin hated it and clashed with his mom about the decision often.

He was there to play football, but when his grades plummeted as a freshman, sports became off limits. Clelin was distraught, but Faye was furious.

"She was like, 'How are you going to risk that?'" Clelin said.

Cleavester died around the same time. Faye remembers Clelin asking what would happen if she died, too. He'd never thought of himself as an adult, never wondered how he'd take care of himself.

As Clelin dealt with so much loss, he began to see that all that advice she'd given had real meaning, all those lectures she'd offered had made him a stronger person.

"He learned that although you're a football star, there are still facets of life and commitments you have to adhere to," said Byron Ferrell, Clelin's older brother, who took on a father-figure role after Cleavester's passing. "It was all kind of a wake-up call that everything can be taken away from you in the blink of an eye."

That lesson was driven home again Clelin's senior year at Benedictine. He blossomed as a junior, committed to Clemson and was poised for a stellar finale when a knee injury in the preseason put an end to his high school career. It was devastating, but he followed familiar advice. What would mama do?

"I can still see him cheering on his teammates, walking up and down the sideline on crutches, getting them water," Byron said.

Clemson honored its scholarship offer, but just as Clelin was getting back into football shape, a hand injury at the end of fall camp provided another setback. After a few weeks, it was clear he'd need a redshirt.

Two full years away from football took their toll, but he focused on his academics. He followed the same route he had in high school and did what his mama would do.

And then, to start the 2016 season, he finally took a live snap again.

"I was dying for it," Clelin said. "I just stayed humble and tried to enjoy the process. That's all you can do. I had to swallow my pride for a second, and I knew my opportunity would come."

The early results have been encouraging. At times, he's been a game changer but knows he's just scratched the surface. That's exciting for the entire family.

Faye and Byron and the rest of the family tailgate before each home game -- "burgers, hot dogs, sausages, steaks, ribs, the whole kit and caboodle," Byron said -- with parents of Clelin's teammates before marching into Death Valley to see him play.

There’s still a push and pull with Clelin and Faye. She can't wait until he graduates because she doesn't like him so far away. He worries she still babies him and tries to keep some distance.

But after the games, the crew always makes its way back to the tailgate with Clelin and some teammates tagging along. They'll rehash the game and fire the grill back up again. They have to celebrate as a family.