Ol’ Saint Nick ~ Not so Quick!!!

 

Nick Sabin is the best college coach in all of college football. Just mark it down y’all, he really is. Whether you’re an Alabama fan or you cringe at the word “Tide” and can’t even bring yourself to use the laundry detergent, one cannot deny his record! Anyone in his or her right mind would be hard pressed to dispute a record like Sabin’s. Period. Take LSU for example, he resurrected their program from the dead, “who” by the way, is still going strong.

This Football Mama is never without a theory. I believe the success of Coach Sabin is mostly because Sabin himself just won’t tolerate monkey business. If a player gets caught with his pants down—meaning in trouble for under-age drinking, drunkenness, rowdiness, scrapes with law-dogs or shady behavior, or maybe literally with his pants down in the wrong place, he’s outta his program. Coach Sabin simply will not give his players any room for screw-ups.

Then again, his players are disciplined to the crux. They eat, sleep, live by the Sabin rules. Even snafus on the field are not stomached by Sabin & Company. Ouch. That’s purdy hard-core for college boys.

Still the record stands and this year was no different, the Tide lost 2 key players and then more to the NFL and yet he pulls off a winning record? Not too shabby!

So, let’s take Georgia for insistence. Why don’t the Dawgs win more? Bring home more championships? Win a national title? Heck, anybody seen one national title in the last ten years under the Richt tutelage? Georgia can compete with Alabama on any given day as far as recruiting, facilities, education, player amenities you name it there is no reason why Georgia cannot compete! You want the real truth? Can you handle the truth?? Answer: Mark Richt coddles his players. Yep, I know, y’all gonna hate me, but the simple truth is, he does. He loves his players and is a stand-up guy for doing so, setting a Christian atmosphere is not a bad thing at all, y’all. It’s quite a great thing if you ask me. But, Georgia has had its chance, and if you really see it from an unbiased perspective, you’ll find that Richt’s players are really not all that well disciplined. Just sayin’. Let’s give ‘em the hurrah however, for winning over Tech in double overtime last night. Yet again, they should’ve eaten Tech alive. Poor Tech.

My real complaint however, stops at Sabin’s throne. Admit it y’all, there was a tinge in those of us who are not die-hard Bama fans who wanted the King’s crown rolled off his head, even if, ever so slightly. Then it happened. Not that Auburn won over Alabama in such a freakish way but in the after game interview with Sabin. To me, it spoke volumes. I do so wish he had had the moral fortitude to give the Tigers the recognition they so deserved instead of recapping what went wrong with Alabama. As if Alabama were the Untouchables!? Helloooo!

Sorry Mister Sabin, that was not your most shining moment. It really comes down to how you conduct yourself after a loss. After adversity. With class? Without class? He should have given Auburn credit, he’d have come off looking like the champion king he really is.

And, Georgia? I’m not advocating that it’s either a Christian atmosphere or not. Remember a guy by the name of Tony Dungy?? You can have both. A winning program and Christian influence. Here’s to all the hard working, saintly coaches who do both!       

 

Game on!     

 As you head to the ballpark this year to watch, coach, cheer for your favorite team, including those precious peewee fellers, remember they are just boys, young fellas, not-quite-grown men vying for a piece of the action. Granted, I’m talking mostly about those who are not NFL-ers. This doesn’t necessarily apply to those who get paid to play the greatest game on earth!

 However, I wonder, I wonder if we as spectators would shout to the death from the stands if we knew that the next play could end-up costing a child his life. I wonder this? Would we still shout to the top of our lungs, “fight, fight, fight” if we knew that a simple play-in-action would be the last play of a kids life?

 The death of De’Antre Turman, age 16 from a simple, routine tackle at Creekside High School in Atlanta last week, has caused me to pause and ponder this thought. What if? What if we knew that a tackle, a field goal, an audible from a quarterback, a touchdown from a wide receiver, what if that play was the last play a player would ever play? Would we still be so hell bent on shouting absurdities and singling out a player for a mistake? Injuries are one thing—death is something altogether different.  

 There are apparently 76 biblical references to “our days being numbered,” but Psalm 90:12 caught my heart while writing this piece. “So teach us to number our days, That we may gain a heart of wisdom.” NKJ

 A heart of wisdom. Again, I wonder, are we seeking The King of Kings, The Most High God, our Lord and Savior, Jesus to impart His Wisdom upon us? Or, are we just plain busy, keeping our minds busy, ourselves busy, just busy, busy shallow, empty, hollow busy? Do we seek His direction, His will, His WISDOM for our lives? Or, are we the hamster on a wheel?

 De’Antre or Tre Tre as was his nickname, family says he loved football. Thrived on it. I say, what an example that child was to all of us! Find our God-given abilities, our passion and live what we love. Maybe even die for what we love. Our military sure has. Died that is. For the Country they love so dear.

 Are you living your passion? Do you know what your God-given talents are? Are you seeking God’s Wisdom? I have a long way to go, but I do see the goal posts and I’m running. Who’s with me? Game on!

                                                                                                    

Did everybody in America get their Pick?

 

I dare say—most likely not! At least not on the side of the players who were left out of any NFL deal. Even those who were drafted, or signed as free agents, most likely didn’t end up on the NFL team they’d dreamed about all their lives as kids. Maybe some did. But the stats tell another story of mostly did not’s. Still, what an honor to be part of the NFL regardless of what team!


So, just for the sake of the underdogs, let’s hear three cheers for them! You know, the kids who didn’t make it. (Sorry, any male specie who is under the age of thirty is still a kid to me!) Okay, players, young fellers if you will, who didn’t get the call for the draft or didn’t sign a free agent contract, what about them? They may either try out for arena football, possibly pro wrestling, or make the proverbial career move into the painful world of gainful employment.

To a true football player, yes—a job, coupled with the rejection of the NFL can be the most painful experience going. The end of playing football for these guys is suddenly wide spread and narrows employment options drastically. Their new career options and the potential for gainful employment that produces a similar income appears bleak.



Photo courtesy of Safire Productions

Some of those players are the sons of families who’ve hung the last hope of getting out of generational poverty onto the backs of these kids. So much weight rides on the shoulders of such young fellas and now they feel like failures without even the slightest glimmer of hope to help their families soar above the substandard norm. That’s a lot for a kid to live with.

Don’t you know they feel crushed? Heart sickened with penetrating disappointment while their padres who made it to the NFL party and celebrate like crazy. Well, celebrate yes—not taking anything away from them. Let’s just hope they don’t let it go to their craniums too fast… which often times, sadly it does. Their attitudes rapidly rise, then reek with the overinflated ego stench. The cure for the cranium high is a good dose of humility. An adjustment which also sadly, will come sooner or later.  

What happens to the has been college football players? Perhaps they’re back home or looking for a roommate and a place to live. It’s these guys—yes hello, these fellas are who really earn my admiration. I believe they are the ones who will rise to the top! Yep, that’s right. They’ll rise like never before. Extenuating circumstances can launch the human spirit into overdrive! 

Most of these young fellas do have mamas in their corner who care. I kinda believe us mamas are born with a cheerleader’s heart. For those who don’t have mamas they can depend on, perhaps a special coach, another close family member or someone they feel comfortable with that they can go to for emotional support and guidance. Mamas, I trust you are that cheerleader and champion your son with your unconditional love tucked in your hearts.

God cares immensely about the has been player and their lives whether those fellas know it or not. My prayer is that one day they will know it fully—if not today, one day for sure!

 

 “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11 NKJ

Hope! How sweet the word, hope. I honestly believe, I hope, for the ones who didn’t make it to the next level last week, or who may get cut before too long, (after all—Tim Tebow recently got cut from the New York Jets) that someday day, this very somber moment in time will be one of the best, most teachable moments they’ll ever experience in a lifetime. I pray it’s a life changer for God’s glory & good.

Yes, I believe the underdogs, former players, will look back on this time, and see God’s great big hand in it all. How He protected them from perhaps going down a rabbit hole that would lead a young fella to destruction in no time flat. Maybe even, saving their life in more ways than one—could be His greatest purpose.

Now, these has been’s are free to DREAM as big as they want without the green, 100-yard box, boxing them in. God can take the failures, the flubs, the setbacks and roll them all together, creating new goals within the hearts of these former players and send them soaring to even greater heights. It’s not as painful as rehab and they are used to hard work heck; they trained for it! They are natural competitors! How many companies or employers wouldn’t want such fine young fellas on their team? Are you kidding me? They’d be nuts!

So what, if it’s not on the gridiron with the fans cheering their paycheck. How many NFL-ers are really that wealthy? Not as many as you may think. America needs young men, (there, I said it!) with the talent and the character only football teaches. Their heart for hard work is unprecedented.

I pick the underdogs!

Super Bowl Twist

Atlanta advanced to the final rounds for Super Bowl 1998, and as a football family from Georgia, we were purdy pumped! Thing is, that same year was the season Brandon would advance from high school to college. In other words, he’d graduate spring of ’99. And, just as the Falcons were in the midst of capturing the NFC Championship—we were hopping from one college campus to another for Brandon’s official visits. College football recruiting season was wide open!

We often missed the NFL Sunday games leading-up to the Super Bowl, either from driving or flying back to Georgia. But the weekend the Super Bowl played, our schedule slapped us smack-dab in New Orleans for the Tulane University visit. After all, his brother Bryson was already there playing for the Green Wave, why not take the little bro too? But by the time Brandon’s recruiting season began, Tommy Bowden’s season at Tulane, was over.

Bryson signs autograph for young Tulane fan

Clemson made Bowden an offer he couldn’t refuse, so he took the head coaching job for the Tigars.  The crew who put the Green Wave on top packed-up and headed for higher ground. That coaching switch left a huge hole. To top it off, the replacements for Bowden’s crew were in the shady character catalog. They did not hold the high esteem of committed Christian like Coach Bowden did. I saw that for myself, up front and very personal. The difference was utterly brusque!

As our visit with Tulane came to a close that Sunday, we were anxious to get to the N.O. airport, catch our plane, head home and watch maybe the last half of the Super Bowl. Garsh by golly, the Falcons were breaking a record too, and we didn’t want to miss out! Teeing-up for a Super Bowl? First time in franchise history!  

Our priority that afternoon? Wishing our plane left on time! If anyone has ever departed from the N.O. airport on time, I’d love to hear from you. We never did. And, we flew in and out of N.O. often. Bryson played as a true freshman so we attended most every home game. But this time, our delay had nothing to do with the N.O. airport and everything to do with severe storms in Atlanta! We were grounded indefinitely before we ever boarded. The three of us, (Gary, Brandon and I) stuck at the N.O. airport, like a chunk of chewed bubble gum on the sole of your shoe. Now if we were lucky, we might catch the last quarter of the 2ad biggest game of the year. For us, the Liberty Bowl ranked #1! Naturally.

Disgusted and disappointed we sat-down at our designated gate, near the end of the corridor. Silence. Complete silence between us. Finally in the distance, I heard a faint familiar sound. It sounded like a bunch of bees buzzing. I followed my perked-up ears back toward the middle of the airport. Right there staring me straight-on was an open expanse of a bar lounge area. Front and center, suspended behind the bar, a huge television set blaring out an extremely familiar sound. It was the Super Bowl game! Yippee-ki-yay! The bar in the airport would solve our problem! It was the first time I ever thought a bar just might be a saving grace.

Brandon sporting a Tulane jersey with his high school number

I went running back down the corridor to fetch the fellas. “Hey guys, game’s on!” Brandon followed me, Gar stayed at our gate to make sure we wouldn’t miss our flight, if and when they announced our departure time.

Brandon and I took a seat in the back of the lounge area and quickly eyed the scoreboard. Denver was ahead 17-0 in the first quarter. Bummer!

A waitress soon came and asked how old Brandon was and what drinks we wanted to order. I smiled sheepishly and shook my head, “Oh no honey, we just want to see the game.” She indicated that we could not be there unless I ordered a drink. “Oh, ok then, we’ll have Coke-cola’s with a twist of lemon—actually make mine a Shirley Temple and his, a Roy Rodgers.” She said it had to have alcohol in it. “You’re kidding, right?” Well, indeed she was not kidding. She asked us to get up. These seats are reserved for those interested in adult drinks. Seriously?

Honestly, the lounge area had maybe four or five people in it at the most, with plenty of empty chairs. I imagined everyone in their right mind was at home, at a Super Bowl party, or either in Miami watching the game live. We got up and walked out to the floor tile area and stood, still in view of the game on the bar TV. No longer in the bar lounge, or on the carpet. This bar lounge had no doors—it had three open sides to the mall or middle areas of the airport, the divide was the carpet for the lounge area, and the tile for the airport area.

Did somebody call security? Apparently they did. One security policeman soon came on the scene. A rather short fellow with a big bouncy belly and a bald head told me we had to move. I tried to explain to him that we were from Atlanta, wanted to see as much of the Super Bowl game as possible because our flight had been delayed, and that my son just visited Tulane, he may play football for them, and that we meant no harm and moved out of the bar area as asked. “Sir, I do not drink and I don’t intend to start now. I ordered Colas.” He got quite burly with me and spouted off something about arresting me.

I gotta say, by that time—big mistake! We had not offended anyone or given him cause for his outrage. At that point my heels smoldered to a fire and honey, I dug in! I thought we just might play the Super Bowl twist right then and there. A twist of strong-wills!! This guy was just itching to throw his weight around. Well, he picked the wrong lady!

He grabbed my arm, I jerked it away and said, “Hey, what’s that?” peering my eyes behind him. He twisted around so fast that his belly needed time to catch up with his chest. Once he turned back around, I didn’t move a mussel and stared him down with daggers so sharp I could have chipped ice with my eyes. I towered over this dude and dared him to touch me again. Somebody wake me up! Surely this is just a bad dream.

I then reached into my purse to get pen and paper. I was going to write down his name and badge number. But, by the time I looked up again, he had turned his badge over so I could not get his information. I’m sure he realized he was really in the wrong and did not want this reported to his superiors.

He told Brandon to get out of here and take his mama with him. Brandon, the ever present force, never said a word up to this point or left my side. He responded, “Sir, she is my Mom and I’m not taking her anywhere.” I was just dumb-founded. I couldn’t believe it escalated to this and I was sober as a preacher passing the collection plate! Gee, what do they do with the drunks?

Finally, out of respect and protection for Brandon I backed-off and bowed-out. I know Brandon would have, could have, taken him, but in the end, who are we!?? We are not the kind of people who go around physically fighting or bullying other people!! I sure didn’t want Brandon to literally fight this ding-bat-dude. We’d never been in a situation like that before, or since, and who I cared about was Brandon.

Law, have mercy! Sometimes ya feel like you’ve just got to stand your ground, especially when the opposing person is apparently, brainless or compensating for some childhood complex which is, in the end, even more reason to back-off. He just didn’t have the capability to do his job in a suitable manner. We all know who really has the stronger will!!

This incident is the most laughable thing that ever happened to us on any recruiting trip! To this day we still chuckle over “Mama’s smack-down, Super Bowl Twist in New Orleans!”

In all seriousness folks, for those of you flying in to New Orleans for this Super Sunday—beware! That poor ol security policeman with the big bouncy belly and baled head just might be lookin’ for all those non-alcoholic drinkers in the bar. Ya sure don’t wanta find out how to implement the Super Bowl Twist and miss the real thing!

Guess Who Had the Cinderella Season??

 

It wasn’t Alabama! We all got it wrong. I mean the score and the performance. Where was Notre Dame? Did they show up?

Correct me if I’m wrong, and this can be debated till the goal posts come down, but when you win a coin toss, dad-burn it, keep the ball! You don’t give it up that easily. Yes, I know there is theory behind it, but when you haven’t been to the big ball in decades ya don’t just give it up like that.

 I listened to Brian Kelly’s 40-second interview on the field right before the kick-off and knew it was going to be bad for the Irish. You don’t ever want to show signs of weakness, much less speak about it to a reporter. The very exact same thing he told the reporter is the very exact same thing he didn’t want to happen. I cannot recall word for word what he said and will not quote when I cannot find the sound-bite, but it left a lot of doubt over air waves. It would have been better if it went something like this; we’ve got to control the ball early on and keep Alabama out of the red zone. Simple. But he didn’t say that, he left a lot of room to insert doubt. Something that should never happen anytime, anywhere.

 So the vibe of the game started out with two huge mistakes on the Irish. Face mask and offsides. Two very fundamental penalties that any high schooler knows not to do! Notre Dame had the jitters and it showed early on. I would have thought Kelly would have driven the point home this was just another game, we’re gonna make Alabama play our game and forget all the hype.

The fact remains that when you’ve been there and done that, like Alabama had, you certainly don’t need to show-up to the big ball with a weakness in your gut, you need to act like you’ve been there before. Even though you hadn’t. The nerves of the team really rest on Kelly’s shoulders. Lessons learned.

 I felt sorry for the poor ol boys in gold helmets. I really did. This was a butt kickin’ pure and simple. All the sportscasters thought maybe Alabama takes by 10. But this was nearly a wipe-out. I guess we all know who had the Cinderella Season. Still Notre Dame did put together an undefeated regular season and that by all accounts is purdy dang good for any college team these days! They will have no problem with signing the recruits they want and it sounds like they could be back to the big ball next year. Next year is a long way off. Sorta.

 Now, all you Alabama fans can Roll easy for another few months. The recruiting season should be a shoo-in for the Tide. What young fella with stars in his eyes would turn Nick Saban down? I bet there’s not many who don’t have pen in hand!

Invited to the Dance vs We Request the Honour of your presence at The Ball

How exciting if you were one who got to see your team play at the Dance! Wasn’t it great getting to be part of it all, watching your team tee-up with bowl bids and invitations? Now that most Bowl games have been played, maybe you were one whose team didn’t make it to the Dance and that’s on the 2013 plan. Either way, there is always next year. Little consolation, however true.

One little game coming up, oh excuse me—that’s that high flutin’ Big Society Ball-Bowl and not every sorority member  is on the invite list! No, that ball is quite special for the chosen few. Even so, it’s about to determine which powerhouse is back and which one had the Cinderella season. Now, that there ball-bowl will have college sports football fans talking for a while. Why, I’m sure of it! The favor of your replay is requested Monday evening January 7, 2013.

 

Make no mistake; Notre Dame will give Alabama a fight to the finish and vice versa. And, it will be one exciting game to watch. But, I can’t help but think of the storied traditions of both teams. One team has Bear blood running through their veins since the 1960’s. The other, Fighting Irish football dating back to the historical mid 1930’s & 40’s and one of footballs’ few, original D-IA college teams before D-I ever came to be. They are still not part of any conference, but boy howdy, those players must hear the ghosts of the four horsemen every time they enter their locker room!

Nonetheless, it wasn’t too long ago in the short distant past, that neither one of these teams was that good any more. Once known as champions every year, then a lull on the scoreboard, a dip in the rankings and everybody’s scratching heads, wondering what happened to their perspective traditional decades of winning streaks. Head coaching changes were ubiquitous. If one didn’t get the job done, the powers that be had their sights on another coach until the job did get done. And of course, let’s not forget the money. Winning programs make money and losing programs, well—lose money.

Then I think of all the fans, the families of those suiting-up, and the university alums. All those who are willing to pay big bucks and load-up in some form of transportation bound for Miami to embark on an adventure of a lifetime. This is it, folks! The Big Ball only comes around usually once in a lifetime, and at the end of the hundred yards there will be one standing Champion. And if your team happens to be THE TEAM then by all means celebrate with all your lil’ ol pea pickin’ heart! Word of advice, celebratin’ is a lot more fun when you can remember how and who you celebrated with!! Go easy on the alcohol.

Now, for those of you who went to the Dance it was all still good, right!? You had fun and celebrated and more importantly, you got to see your team fight to the finish. Some of the bowl games this year were purdy darn exciting. They had me out of my chair several times! Love a good game regardless of who is playing. Loved seeing those kids/players who come to play ball and leave celebrating for later after the game.

But going to the big Ball is unique in its own right. It’s the crème dela crème. The top dog. The premier of all of college football. And, it’s not given. It’s earned. So how does a head coach keep all this razz-a-ma-tazz in perspective for his players? Well, quite frankly some don’t. These two coaches Monday night, will.

You’ll see it on the field. Watch for attitude. Watch to see how the players come through the tunnel. I can usually nab-it fairly early on in a game as to who is prepared and who isn’t. Who is there for the fun of it all and who’s there for business with their heads in the game. Rest assured, these two head coaches, Saban and Kelly will have their players grounded and prepared with as much down-to-earth gravity and game-on brain power as possible. Still, these are kids and they do have a mind of their own. It’ll be interesting to watch the players and how they respond to their coaches when the fires blow to a blaze.

Now, I’m not really a kill joy, of course it’s all fun and hey, what a great experience for the players and their families. I’m just saying that if you look close, you can usually see the winner before the first kick-off.

Gone to the Dance or the Requested Honour of your presence at the Ball? It may be a big difference to many folks, but from one who’s been there and done that, any bowl invite is a privileged honor. Football reflects so much more than many scoreboards show. Each team has their own set of accomplishments from pee-wee on up through the ranks. Hope y’all had a GREAT football season, regardless! Here’s to next year.