Eagle5 on Auburn

The joy of college football fandom is all about imagery – those powerful game day moments or pivotal plays that engage all five of your senses – hearing, taste, touch, smell and sight.  Larger than life plays in a game that as they unfold, hypnotize and captivate every fan smart enough not to have left for a five dollar Coke.  Such game changing, season changing plays, whether miraculous or disastrous for your team, grind to a slow motion view in your mind’s eye.  Years later, fans that experienced the play in person recall in high definition what they saw, heard, and sensed just before the play, and the complete stranger they bear hugged in the deafening roar of celebration. 

Plays like 78 Stay Z Takeoff.  Even if you have never drawn an X or O on a chalkboard, you know the play.  And you know the Shakespearean drama that was crammed into the moments surrounding this play.  The setting:  Jordan-Hare Stadium, 1993, Iron Bowl.  The plot:  6:16 remaining in the 3^rd Quarter, 4^th and 15 at the Bama 35 yard line, Tigers down 14-5.  The lead actors:  the fallen starting quarterback, Stan White, untested quarterback Patrick Nix, and another man of the moment, Frank Sanders.  And lest it be forgotten, Tommy Bowden, nominated for best supporting role in a monumental moment for a play call from the press box that on closer examination was at once brilliant, gutty, and surprisingly, very low risk. 

It is etched in the mind of every Auburn fan who was there, or knows how to Google YouTube – Nix to Sanders I.   If football aficionados were asked to compile a list of Iron Bowl turning point plays, ‘93 Nix to Sanders would have to make the Top 10.  It was unquestionably the turning point in the magical 1993 Iron Bowl, an Auburn victory over defending national champion Alabama which unleashed a Charmin’ storm on Toomer’s ancient oaks for the 11-0 victors in the blue jersey. 

Follow me down the winding and less known path of one Frank Sanders which led to his shot to seize the moment, and engrave his name forever in the Iron Bowl series history.

It was only because of Coach Pat Dye’s gamble on the recruitment of Fort Lauderdale (Dillard) running back Otis Mounds that Frank Sanders even visited Auburn as a recruit.  “I ran track with Otis Mounds,” recalls Sanders, “and all four of us from Dillard came to visit Auburn together because of Coach Dye recruiting and signing Otis when no other coach would give him the time of day.” 

Auburn assistant Steve Dennis led the recruitment of Sanders, who was highly recruited by other big name colleges, including the high octane Florida Gators.  The recruitment strategy involved a rare recruitment of not two, not three, but four Dillard High School players who would become part of the Dillard Five in Auburn recruiting lore.  There was Sanders, running back James Bostic, and defensive backs Brian Robinson and Calvin Jackson who would follow in the steps of Otis Mounds to the Loveliest Village. 

“What was unique about our recruitment,” said Sanders, “was that none of us knew we were going to Auburn.  We all just saw it as a fun visit.  Initially, Auburn was not recruiting me heavily.  There was depth at cornerback, safety, and running back.  Brian Robinson had already verbally committed to FSU, and Calvin had verbally committed to Tennessee.  But we decided that we wanted to visit together.” 

Sanders received a memorable phone call from the Evil Genius just before his trip to Auburn.  “I was being recruited by Coach Spurrier at Florida,” said Sanders, “and on my first visit I asked him to save me a scholarship, but that I needed to go visit Auburn.”  The Ole Ball Coach responded in typical blunt fashion, “OK, I’ll do that, Frank, but you know they don’t throw the ball much!”  A Spurrier line rich with irony considering that the Auburn passing attack would torch the highly ranked Gators two consecutive years in 1993 and 1994.

The visit to Auburn was a stark contrast from the recruiting ambiance experienced by Sanders on his Tennessee, Miami, and Pittsburgh visits.  “The coaches at Tennessee took us to a wonderful rib restaurant,” recalls Sanders.  “Miami took me to an excellent steak joint, and the Pitt coaches took me to an amazing steak and chicken restaurant, also first class.  When we got to Auburn, it was Sewell Hall, that was it, baby!  Sewell Hall,” chuckled Sanders. 

Fortunately, Auburn facilities have come a long way, baby, which is essential to compete in the glitzy world of recruiting today.  But on the “Dillard Four” visit, Sewell Hall served its purpose.  “It felt real,” said Sanders, “not like they were trying to wine and dine us.  What I was looking for in my recruiting process was a college that would allow me to escape from the survival mode of Fort Lauderdale.   It was a town of distractions in which you could suffer as an athlete, or as a student.  Auburn sold itself.  There was absolutely nothing offered under the table in our recruitment to Auburn.  There were some schools that did offer various things under the table, but not Auburn.  Auburn sold itself then, and still sells itself.  It’s a beautiful place.”

Coach Dye and his staff were long since proven on the recruiting trail, with Dye himself known as a very direct, honest, and low key yet effective closer with recruits.  He recruited the Mamas and Papas as much as the player, and landed his share of studs.  How often do you hear of a coaching staff closing the deal on a package deal of four sought after recruits who arrived on the Auburn campus with very little connection to Auburn?  “I remember,” recalls Sanders, “when I came into Coach Dye’s office, he threw his boots up on the desk.  The most amazing thing that Coach Dye caught me off guard with was that he started asking about my family, calling them by name.  It was almost like he had an earpiece on with someone telling him their names, asking, ‘How is April?’, my sister, and ‘How is Darren?’, my baby brother.  I was very impressed.” 

Sanders recounted his recruitment by some coaching legends, including Dennis Erickson, Steve Spurrier, and Johnny Majors.  But Dye would be the only head coach who showed a genuine interest in family members, and even knew them by first name.  “Coach Dye really blessed me, coming across so personally,” said Sanders, “it made me feel that he was more interested in my family, and in me as a person than as a player.”

Dye would counter the Spurrier admonition about Auburn not passing the ball, explaining to Sanders, “Frank, we’ve got Tommy Bowden in as offensive coordinator, and we’re going to pass the ball more.  You’ll fit into this offense well.” 

“I told Coach Dye right in the middle of our meeting,” said Sanders, “I’m coming to Auburn.”  But assuming the fatherly role, Coach Dye stopped, looked at Frank, and responded, “No, Frank.  You need to go home and talk to your Mama about it.  Go home and talk to Jackie first.”

By now having been sold on Auburn University, Sanders was a young man who was confident in his decision.  “No, Coach Dye, my Mama said that once I found a school I liked, she would trust me to make the decision.”

And in typical deadpan fashion, Dye would respond, “Well, alright.  We’d love to have you here.  Let’s go talk to Tommy (Bowden).”  As the two left Dye’s office, a funny thing happened, which is an image riveted in Sanders’ mind.  “Literally, as I was walking out the door,” said Sanders, “Brian was walking out of another office, and so were Calvin and James.  Each had been meeting separately with an assistant coach in different offices.  All four of us had committed to Auburn at the same time, without knowing the others had committed as well!”

Not very long into Sanders’ career at Auburn, the winds of change were blowing hard through the Plains in the wake of the Eric Ramsey debacle.  Coach Dye held the team together, talking continually to the team about Auburn as a family, and that families stick together no matter what.  With the hiring of Terry Bowden, players like Sanders were asked to step up as leaders, as much in accepting change as performing on the field.

“After the ’92 Bama game, that was really a tough time,” said Sanders.  Coach Dye assumed some degree of responsibility in the transition.  We already had Tommy Bowden on the staff, and Auburn was hiring another Bowden that was smart.  And anyone who thinks less of Coach Bowden is wrong.  It took a classy man to allow Coach Dye to not steal the show, but to enjoy the spotlight in 1993 with him.  Coach Bowden really handled it well allowing Coach Dye to be around us.  Game day was always special because Coach Bowden often allowed Dye to speak to the team before the game.”

Regardless of current day opinions of Bowden’s total body of work at Auburn, no one disputes the magical elements of 1993 that blended the remnants of tough, physical Dye defense and power running with the cerebral and often brilliant play calling of Bowden.  The defending national champion Tide, coached by Gene Stallings, would enter Jordan-Hare to face an improbably undefeated 10-0 Tiger team in a game that was not televised. 

With the Tigers down 14-5 late in the 3^rd Quarter, Sanders’ winding journey that ended in the Loveliest Village would reach a miraculous fork in the road on a down and distance play that had impossible written all over it.  “I remember it like it was a minute ago,” said Sanders.  “It was a very surreal moment.  You see Stan going down, and I was just focused on our starting quarterback being down.  Then I saw Patrick scrambling for his helmet on the sideline, so that told me that we were going to run a play on 4^th down.  Since we knew a pass play was going to be called, we got to the huddle.  Tony Richardson and Wayne Gandy were giving us a pep talk and got us fired up, telling us “Guys, get your mind together.  We’re gonna whip Bama’s butt’.”

The moment was also a test of manhood and readiness for the young Nix.  He would pass with flying colors, because Nix had prepared for just such an unexpected moment in the blue jersey his whole playing career.

“When Patrick entered the huddle,” said Sanders, “he didn’t seem nervous at all, and confident, and said, ‘Guys, we’re gonna score’.  He called 78 Stay Z Takeoff, and then turned and looked at me, and said, ‘Frank, I’m throwing it to you, no matter what.  Patrick threw a perfect ball, allowing me to come back for it over Tommy Johnson.”

Practice organization may have also prepared Nix and Sanders for the unexpected moment.  “In a lot of our practices, toward the end, Stan would have gone in to ice down his shoulder, and I would run routes to help Patrick worked on his throws.” 

An interesting angle on the big play was uncovered by Sanders when he recently talked to his friend and former Tide standout, Antonio Langham.  “I talked to Antonio Langham in Montgomery recently,” said Sanders, “and he described the play from Bama’s viewpoint.  Their defensive coordinator, Brother Oliver, was waiting to see what we’d do.  Brother didn’t know if we were going to punt, or what we would do.  Antonio had been locking me down all day, and I had only one reception.  When we broke the huddle, I initially run off to the right side of the field.  Then realizing I was supposed to line up on the left side, I raced over there.  During that confusion, Langham did not have time to move to my side, so he yelled at Tommy Johnson to line up there and cover me.  Oliver got the defensive call in late, an all-out blitz, leaving Sanders in man coverage.  So the haste and confusion of that 4^th down worked in our favor.”

The imagery from that momentous big play is mind numbing . . . a senior quarterback limping off, backup quarterback scrambling for a helmet, offensive coordinator going unconventional with an end zone shot that amounts to a punt if it fails, and a defensive genius getting caught with his trousers around the ankles.  An All-American defensive back getting caught out of position during the melee,  a backup quarterback delivering a ball like Joe Montana, and one of the Dillard Five hauling in the miracle reception.  And thus, a legend is born.  Nix to Sanders, Part I.  Frank Sanders may have the most heart-warming teddy bear smile of any Auburn legend, but be not be deceived.  When the game is on the line at crunch time, he is a cold blooded killer going up for the ball – just ask Langham, Brother Oliver, or the Evil Genius.

Next time you run into Nix, Sanders, or even Tommy Bowden, walk up and give them one of those bear hugs.  After all, they’re not complete strangers.  Not after 1993.

 Frank Sanders enjoyed an impressive NFL career that spanned nine seasons from 1995 to 2003, and included the 1998 season with the Arizona Cardinals in which he led the NFC in receptions with 89 for 1,145 yards. Frank now resides in Birmingham, and delivers his inimitable warmth, humor and analysis to sports radio as a regular on JOX sports talk.

Nine consecutive years of bitter defeat against your archrival leaves a mark, but aside from the misery, can have an upside.  It purifies a fan base of fence sitters and fair weather fans, and creates an unbreakable bond of loyalty for those who endured the nine year plague of crimson floods, locusts, and flies.  For the devout Auburn fan, it indelibly records in your mind exactly why you hate Alabama fans, and the odd superiority complex and delusion their history has forged.  During that nine-year span, bragging rights meant relentless taunting rights from an Auburn point of view.  Hopes for civility in the rivalry, however unrealistic, were consumed in the fires of an instate civil war we call the Iron Bowl. 

Sure, most Auburn fans claim as friends or, heaven forbid, a spouse, some number of the crimson element, but there are spheres of conversation that must be managed through avoidance or the skill of a bomb squad if feuds are to be averted.  And let us be candid – the feuds are seldom averted, merely tolerated.  Arguments are not resolved; they are merely paused for intermission (Bama fans are skilled at not letting facts get in the way).  And therein is the fuel for the most intense rivalry in all of college football.    

The die-hard Auburn fan soon reaches the realization of an important axiom:  anything bad that happens to Alabama is automatically good for Auburn (and the converse of this axiom).  Reaching this awareness of the war at hand, you are amused and annoyed by the fan from either side who feigns wimpy diplomacy, claiming inexplicably to pull for both teams until they play head to head.  This, my friends, is the Iron Bowl, and is no place for the feint of heart, nor the politically correct. 

But misery can beget joy, and the suffering of a nine-year streak in fact become the stage for the hero who parts the Red Sea, and leads a scorned people out of the land of persecution.  A hero like Randy Campbell, who could have never envisioned the monumental role he would play on a very big stage indeed – “neutral” Legion Field, long ago home of the Iron Bowl.  

And so it was that the stars aligned for a young quarterback from Hartselle High School by the name of Randy Campbell to sign with Auburn University.  A little noticed Auburn signee in 1978, who on closer examination, would turn out to be a crucial piece of the puzzle in turning the bitter Iron Bowl rivalry in the Tigers’ direction.  Yet as with so many shifts in the balance of power, few or no fans could see it coming in Campbell’s 1979 freshman year at Auburn.

Randy Campbell enjoyed a stellar high school career at Hartselle High School, operating the split back veer.  “Looking back,” chuckled Campbell, “we actually threw the ball at Hartselle more than we ever did in the wishbone at Auburn.”  The Birmingham News staff took notice, placing Campbell fourth on its Top 10 list of Super Seniors.   Despite the accolades, Campbell would not be offered by Alabama, who went on to sign all four quarterbacks who joined Campbell in the Top 10 list.  Campbell was recruited by Auburn, Tennessee, Ole Miss, Vandy, and Memphis State (who had a wide receivers coach whose name may be familiar – Mack Brown).  Dave Beck was the lead recruiter for Campbell on the Auburn coaching staff.  

“I had never even been to Auburn,” said Campbell, “but when I visited for the first time, I absolutely loved it.”  Despite Auburn’s on the field struggles, Campbell’s college choice would be motivated by other factors.  “I never thought about Coach Barfield’s struggles,” said Campbell.  “The fact that Auburn was the first college to recruit me meant a great deal to me.  I never forgot it, and in the end, it was the deciding factor.  When Dave Beck called and made me a formal offer, I committed.” 

Campbell’s freshman season in 1979 as a junior varsity player even included an omen of what was to come for Auburn, as the Auburn JV team whipped Alabama by the score of 21-7, with Campbell scoring one of the touchdowns. 

After the inevitable firing of Auburn head coach Doug Barfield, Campbell would experience the complete rebuilding of championship caliber football, which began in January, 1981 with the hiring of a proven winner from Blythe, Georgia – Patrick Fain Dye.  “I will never forget Coach Dye’s first meeting with our team,” said Campbell.  “One player showed up late for the team meeting, and Coach Dye kicked him out.”  Campbell then vividly recalls Coach Dye’s declaration to an underachieving team in that first meeting.  “I’ve won a championship at every level,” said Dye, “from high school to college.  And we’re going to do the same thing at Auburn.  And I’ll tell you something else, we won’t fear Alabama.” 

For Dye, it was but the start to getting every player’s attention, and forging the habits of a winner.  Winter workouts would become a crucible of weights, “grass drills”, agility, sprinting, and the brutal “bear crawl”.  “Every player was required to participate in the workouts,” said Campbell, “even our kicker, Del Greco.  Players were frequently physically sick.  The winter drills would cull our team of 120 players down to about 85.”  

For Campbell, the 1981 season would bring more adversity, from a quadriceps muscle tear, to an overcrowded quarterback position with six quarterbacks including Hobby, Murphy, and Beauford.  In the 1981 victory over LSU at Jordan-Hare, Dye would play all six quarterbacks.  It would be hard to imagine that move in today’s football scene, as fans and analysts roundly criticize even a two quarterback rotation. 

Prior to the 1982 season, Dye would bring in Jack Crowe as offensive coordinator and quarterbacks coach.  “It was a completely new page,” said Campbell, “with a big emphasis on the quarterback not getting us beat.  The point was hammered that we would have no turnovers.  Previously, the focus for the quarterbacks was simply to play hard, but turnovers weren’t as much a focus.”

Perhaps a beneficiary of the new ball-hogging, mistake free philosophy, Campbell would battle hard with Ken Hobby during ’82 spring practice, and would win the starting job the last day of spring ball.  It was an unscheduled practice called by Coach Dye on the Monday following an A-Day game that disgusted the head coach. 

Following the final spring practice, Coach Crowe called Campbell to his office.  “I sat down,” said Campbell, “and Coach Crowe pitched me a football he had in his hand, and said ‘You’ve won the job, Randy.  If you have a bad game, we won’t bench you.”

The 1982 Tigers would get a fast start with a 3-0 record, including a big win over Tennessee.  As the year progressed, the foundation of toughness built in winter and spring would become the hallmark of the Tigers, and was rapidly winning over fans.  A true freshman running back you may remember was fast making a move himself in the wishbone with Lionel James and fullback Ron O’Neal.  This was a new breed of Tiger, tough, physical, hard-nosed and without a trace of quit in them.  They were quickly embodying the persona of their head coach. 

The ultimate test of the Auburn turnaround would take place under the weight of history, at Amen Corner, against archrivals Georgia and Alabama.  Georgia rolled into the game against Auburn at Jordan-Hare undefeated and ranked # 1 in the nation.  Auburn fought with grit and toughness, and led 14-13 in the fourth quarter before Herschel Walker broke a long touchdown run to annex a 19-14 lead.  Showing pure heart and determination despite being outmanned, the Tigers marched to the Georgia nine yard line, but from there could not score.  The gut-wrenching loss would nonetheless become a turning point for the team, and a lesson in the Auburn family’s love.  “Very few fans left the stadium,” said Campbell, “and were chanting, ‘It’s great to be an Auburn Tiger.’”  

Going into the Iron Bowl, the loss to Georgia actually helped the team.  “It showed us we could win, as close as we came against the best team in the country,” said Campbell.  “We were confident we could do it and end the Bama streak.”

Campbell describes Coach Dye’s approach to Iron Bowl preparation as aimed at keeping the team loose.  “At one practice the week of the ’82 Iron Bowl,” said Campbell, “Coach Wayne Hall had climbed the goal post and stood on top of it.  We were dying laughing.  Coach Hall jumped down and I think he injured an ankle.”

True to Dye’s philosophy that the Iron Bowl is about effort and execution, not new gimmickry, there were few major tendencies broken, with one notable exception.  For the first game that year, the Tigers would break the wishbone and run some I formation with Bo Jackson at the fullback spot.  Privately, Dye would tell Auburn play by play announcer Jim Fyffe, with index finger pointed sternly at Fyffe, “There’s gonna be a blood lettin’ in Birmingham.”

The 1982 game, to be sure, could be a poster for the sports cliché, “statistics are for losers”, as the Tide would more than triple Auburn’s offensive yardage production.  At the close of the 3^rd quarter, the Tide had dominated several categories, with 440 to 132 total yards, 23 to 6 first downs, and 27:00 to 17:00 in time of possession.  But the Tide had two turnovers to none for Auburn.  Campbell, above all else in this epic Iron Bowl, was true to the very philosophy which won him the starting job.  He would manage the game completely mistake free, and value the football.  It was vintage Pat Dye football, and Campbell had bought in.

For the student of the game, two plays reveal Campbell’s heroism in the 1982 game, though the man himself is perfectly happy with the big win being dubbed the “Bo Over the Top” game.  Down 22-17 with less than 5:00 remaining in the game, Auburn faced a 2^nd and 7 at the Bama 40 yard line.  The call was play action out of the wishbone, with Campbell looking for wide receiver Chris Woods over the middle.  He dropped back, and quickly realized it was not there.  If he forces a throw and gets picked, the game is all but over, but he wisely protected the ball and took a sack.  Then, on 3^rd and 14 from the Bama 34, Campbell made what could be considered his play of the game.  “On that critical 3^rd down, I made the most important pass of my season,” said Campbell, “throwing a bullet to Mike Edwards on the left sideline for the first down.  Coach Dye would later say that I threw the pass in a snuff can.”  But it was Campbell’s discipline, and cool in the heat of battle that preserved the drive, and made “Bo over the top” possible.

Crow then called a pass play that was intended to find Chris Woods deep for a touchdown, but Jeremiah Castille played very deep and broke on the ball.  As Campbell was knocked down after throwing, he assumed the worst.  “Lying there,” said Campbell, “I thought I had lost the game.  And then I saw that pass interference had been called.”  Call it long awaited justice, after numerous horrible spots of the ball and questionable calls had gone against the Tigers.

Tension then gathered, and throats tightened for the play that would become the signature for this monumental Iron Bowl win for Auburn, 4^th and goal at the half yard line.  “We had a time out after Bo’s airborne leap from the five yard line had injured Bama’s Tommy Wilcox,” said Campbell, “and I knew that the coaches would call Bo over the top.  It was going to be very simple, and a gut check time for the offensive line.  What was worrying me the most on that 4^th down was the importance of getting a clean snap from center.”

Ah, the little things in college football are, in the end, the glorious things.  The clean snap from center that make big off tackle runs possible.  Quarterbacks who do not believe they have to thread every needle into double coverage, and even see the beauty of a five yard sack that protects field position and keeps a drive alive. 

Randy Campbell understood and mastered the little things, delivered, and along with a gutty coaching staff and team, parted the crimson sea which had engulfed Auburn pride for too long.  And at this renewal of the college football’s most fierce rivalry, a grateful Auburn family remembers, and smiles.

Randy Campbell resides in Birmingham, Alabama, with his wife Nancy.  Randy is a principal with Harlan Partners, Inc., and was recently nominated to serve on the Auburn University Board of Trustees.

“Tonight’s what our program is all about.  I want you to think about it and let it sink in deep.  This is the reason we work you in the summer time, in January and February, and in the spring.  It’s the reason we push you beyond what you think you can do . . . to experience moments like this.  Ain’t no easy way in life, and it wasn’t easy out there tonight, but you were prepared for the task.  It doesn’t matter who’s running the ball, who’s catching it, who’s rushing the passer, or making the tackle – just as long as he’s got a blue jersey on.”

        -   Coach Patrick Fain Dye, 1989 Iron Bowl Post-Game Locker Room

Ask any fan who bleeds burnt orange and navy blue to rank the most meaningful Iron Bowls, and 1989 would almost certainly take top honors.  The 1982 “Bo Over the Top” and 1972 “Punt Bama Punt” games, both monumental wins, would compete for attention, along with several others depending on where each fan falls on the generational continuum from Y to X, to Boomer, to Veteran.  Talk to a Veteran or Boomer, and they’ll still fondly recall Connie Frederick’s impromptu fake punt, a rousing “coup de grace” with a little known fact – the extra point following Frederick’s touchdown nailed the Old Gray Lady scoreboard smack in the face.  A nice statement for the “neutral” Iron Bowl playing field!

Alex “A.T.” Thomas played at Auburn from 1987 – 1991, and was among the fortunate Tigers to make the walk down Donahue Drive in the craziest, largest, and most emotional Tiger Walk in Auburn history.  Alex proudly wore the blue jersey, but not just any blue jersey . . . the home jersey for the 1989 Iron Bowl, the first ever true home Iron Bowl for Auburn University.

This was not just an Iron Bowl, it was the Berlin wall crumbling in its historic meaning to Auburn faithful, and undoubtedly caused the Bear to twist and roll in his grave reaching for a fifth of Wild Turkey.  Alex Thomas’s name is etched upon the annals of Auburn football lore with the entire 1989 team for delivering a decisive Iron Bowl victory in a game that was emotional to Auburn faithful for its historic significance.  It was a solid three hours of pure adrenalin bathed in a storm of orange and blue paper shaker dust.  “Exciting” does not do it justice.  Epic, monumental, earth-rattling, and unprecedented come closer.  “Surreal” is not an overstatement.

A Dothan High School standout, Alex Thomas was considered the top wide receiver in the state in his 1986 senior season, and a high school All American.  As a sought after skill player, Florida, Georgia, FSU, Tennessee and Auburn recruited Alex hard, but he had narrowed his choices to Tennessee, Auburn, and Florida.  “The week came that I was reaching my decision,” Thomas said.  “I had tired of the phone calls, so I told each college recruiter to call my high school coach on Friday that week to find out my decision.”

Former Auburn assistant, Bud Casey, was the recruiter for Thomas.  Casey’s instincts on how to recruit in the home stretch would pay dividends.  Thomas recalls Casey fondly, stopping to chuckle often.  “My recruiter was none other than Mr. Bud Casey,” Thomas said.  “He was a real character.  Most of the coaches from other schools were nice guys.  There was Cutcliffe from Tennessee, and other great recruiters.  Florida, Georgia, LSU, and FSU were on me, but I had narrowed it to Tennessee, Auburn, and Florida.  That Friday morning, the phone rang, and it was Coach Casey.”

Casey understood that instinct and risk taking are often winning tactics in recruiting.  “Alex, I know I’m not supposed to call you,” said Casey, “but I wanted you to know I couldn’t wait.  We want you at Auburn!”   “I had been to a few games at Auburn, but never camped there,” said Thomas, “but my visit to the Auburn vs. Georgia game was the turning point.  It was the game Auburn lost a hard fought game, the Dawg fans rushed the field, and had to be hosed down.” 

Few Auburn fans that day realize it, but they sealed the deal in the recruiting of Alex Thomas, and probably other recruits who visited that day.  “After the game, it blew me away that hundreds of Auburn fans stayed,” said Thomas, “and were waiting on the players, cheering that they were behind us.  That sold me on Auburn University.  These were special fans with a different spirit, and they cared about us, not just about wins and losses.”

“After I arrived at Auburn in 1987,” said Thomas, “I talked to Coach Dye.  I was given the chance to play either defensive back or wide receiver.  After the first spring of getting hit by Andre Bruce and Kevin Porter, I was ready to switch to defensive back,” joked Thomas.  “The adjustment, and redshirt, was good for me.  Everyone around you was a great player.”

Thomas earned playing time starting in 1988 on an Auburn team that was loaded, especially on the defensive side of the ball.  The highlight for Thomas was in the opening kickoff of the 1988 Iron Bowl in Birmingham as he made the tackle on the Bama returner.  “For the two weeks of preparation leading up to the Iron Bowl,” Thomas said, “Coach Dye was all about resting your body, and getting your mind ready.  It was not really about screaming or yelling.  Coach Dye’s feeling was that if the Iron Bowl doesn’t get you motivated, you’re in the wrong place.  He usually said very little to get us motivated.”

As fans, we tend to assume that players fully understand the intensity of the Iron Bowl through osmosis, having grown up in this state.  But that is like understanding the Grand Canyon and all its grandeur through high definition television.  But see it on horseback, or on foot, and then you know.

“I really didn’t understand until I played in the Iron Bowl how passionate people are about this game,” said Thomas, “and how it can even separate families.  I cheered for my hometown guys on both Bama and Auburn.  But then, Oh, Lord, being in it – you want to make your mark in the Iron Bowl.”

Going into the 1989 season, the coaches and players goal was to reload, not rebuild, as the ’88 edition of Tigers had come within an eyelash of a national championship shot, falling on a late drive by LSU in Baton Rouge.   There were over fourteen Auburn players drafted in the spring of 1989, which usually portends difficulties for a team the following season.

Coach Dye would preach tradition – the winning tradition of tough, physical play, and winning – that was built by the ’88 team.  “Our mindset was to not disappoint Coach Dye,” said Thomas.  “We knew what we capable of doing, and ultimately, we performed very well except for the Florida State and Tennessee games in 1989.”

And so the drama unfolded in 1989 . . . with that school down the road stealing the headlines with its own magical run to a 10-0 record on the strength of Homer Smith’s genius, and in spite of the head coaching of Bill Curry.  Few were smart enough to see that it was a house of cards the Tide had built, ripe for destruction.  The Iron Bowl has a unique ability to expose the soft underbelly of the overhyped.

Stomachs tightened throughout the Loveliest Village as Iron Bowl week arrived.  We had won the war – moving Auburn home Iron Bowls to Jordan-Hare stadium – but without seizing the battle on December 2, 1989, it would ring hollow.  And a loss would end with the bitter taste of watching the Tide earn a spot in the mythical national championship game.

Many will remember the inspiring letter from a fan who claimed to have served in the war against Nazi Germany, and described the heroism of his fellow soldiers after being captured (the letter would turn out to be “manufactured”, but Hey, whatever it takes to win the Iron Bowl).

“Coach Dye read us that letter on Thursday of Iron Bowl week, two days before the game,” said Thomas.  “Everyone was moved and touched, and then a crazy and inspiring thing happened.  The second Coach Dye finished reading the letter, a jet flyover whooshed over our heads!”  Coincidence, or planned, the omens were gathering in Auburn’s favor.

“RV’s showed up a ridiculous week before the Iron Bowl,” said Thomas, “and filled the campus by Tuesday of game week!  We had final exams, and it was impossible to concentrate on our studies.  We went to LaGrange, Georgia to get away from the chaos.”

Chaos was an understatement.  A beautiful chaos, game hype completely off the charts, complete with Bill Curry’s laughable report of death threats to he and Bama players, which he reported to the FBI. 

December 2, 1989, sweet day of vindication.  Pinch yourself if you wear the orange and blue.  Yes, Shug, the Iron Bowl will kick off on grass, in Auburn, not on that plastic crap the Tide preferred to play on (yet has scrapped nowadays as they did Legion Field).

“The Tiger Walk was simply unreal,” said Thomas.  “It was the first time we had ever been forced to walk single file through the Tiger Walk because the thousands of Auburn fans just pushed in on us, most crying tears of joy, hugging, high fiving and cheering us on.  By the time we arrived in the locker room, our adrenalin was off the charts.”     

Thomas described the sights and sounds of the pregame locker room, which would have been better recorded on the Richter scale.  “Coach Casey was in the locker room,” said Thomas, “with veins bulging in his neck, yelling, ‘blood on the saddle, blood on the ground, when I looked up, there was blood all around.’  In the pregame locker room, it literally vibrated from the crowd noise and fans stomping their feet.  Coaches and trainers were repeatedly yelling, ‘We got it!  We got it!’”

The Auburn game plan was brilliant in its simplicity, and beautiful in its execution.  Physical, power football that was the Auburn identity under Coach Dye, complemented by stretching the field with Ace Wright, who was in Thomas’s words, “fast as a hiccup”.  Defensively, Wayne Hall’s plan was to mostly play base, mixing in blitz only occasionally.  “We knew that defensively we could confuse Hollingsworth and get to him,” said Thomas, “which Craig Ogletree did several times.”

Most likely a victim of excessive adrenalin, and pressing too much, the Tigers would head to the halftime locker room behind on the scoreboard.  Thomas recalled Bama players taunting, “This is our home – doesn’t matter where we play.”  But none of the coaches or players worried.  In the half time locker room, Coach Dye put it bluntly.  “This is your game.  87,000 came here for you.  You gotta give these folks what they came here for!”  There was no screaming or throwing of chairs.  “No one had to say anything to us,” said Thomas.  “We just needed to compose ourselves and put it all together.”

And did they ever, playing as complete a 2^nd half of football as you’ll see in any Iron Bowl.  Bama had absolutely no answer for Ace Wright, giving him cowardly 15 yard cushions for easy receptions.  Stacy Danley put on a clinic in pounding the rock, and was a late game beast breaking arm tackles by tired Tide defenders.  “The plan in the 2^nd half was to ram it down their throats,” said Thomas.  “On the sidelines, we had coaches yelling at the offense to ‘knock the {expletive deleted} out of ‘em’.”

The football gods blessed Thomas with a memory on that surreal game day that he will be telling his grandchildren about years from now.  On a 3^rd Quarter kickoff to returner Gene Jelks, Thomas landed a bone-jarring tackle which knocked Jelks cold, and out of the game.

As the epic 1989 Iron Bowl seconds ticked off, Thomas recalls the once in a lifetime suspense, and joy which permeated the Auburn sideline.  “We were watching the final seconds tick off,” said Thomas.  “I just took a minute to look around and see what we had done.  I just soaked it in.  We were yelling TICK, CLOCK!  TICK!  TICK!”

The Bama players were pretty classy after the game, Thomas explained.  Over the years, there has typically been a degree of honor and class among players, in contrast to the opposite, regrettably, from some fans.  The best team clearly won on December 2, 1989. 

And the jubilation commenced.  “That was the first time I ever went to Toomer’s Corner,” bubbled Thomas.  “It looked like snow.  I remember talking to David Housel, and he was telling me how much this win meant to the Auburn people.”

I wondered, having seen the post-game video clip of Coach Dye a hundred times, what exactly were the “angels” the team had wrestled with that season?   “We had a lot going on that season,” said Thomas.  “The expectations were tough, and the pressure to live up to the 1988 team’s success.  We wanted to go undefeated, and the sting of the road loss to LSU in ’88 was part of it.  The tough loss at FSU took a toll.  In my case, my Mom had a heart attack during that season.  Other players had family issues that were tough.  To know we had a team that was like family was very comforting.  And it all came together like a huge weight off our shoulders in the Iron Bowl win!”

I am an Alex Thomas fan.  His word to the 2009 team, and the foundation our coaches and players are building?  “The main thing I would tell our guys is about tradition,” says Thomas.  “We have a great, rich tradition, and the best fan base hands down.  No matter what, we’ll have the same diehard fans who are with us regardless.  That’s a positive for any player.  I had to experience that – I was a part of 3 SEC Champion seasons, but I was also part of a losing season when the Eric Ramsey scandal broke.  Through all of that, we still had a packed house, and fans pulling for us.  Understand that this coaching staff understands the Auburn tradition.  Tracy Rocker was there, he knows.  Set your goals for yourself, and lay it on the line.  As long as you stick together and know your coaches are behind you, you have a chance to build something very special!”

And in a very important “by the way” category, Alex also got the girl.  His wife, Margo, was being recruited as a gymnast to Auburn when they met.  “I met Margo on a recruitment trip,” said Thomas.  “My first reaction was that I was not going to show a high school girl around Auburn, but I took her to a party or two.  Months later, we had a literature class together, and I kept thinking, ‘I recognize her’.  The braces she wore in high school were off now.  We dated for two years.  After Auburn, I signed as a free agent with the Colts, and later played Canadian football for a season.  I returned to Auburn to finish school, and we both graduated the same year!”  Alex popped the question to Margo the fall of her senior year, and the two were married in 1995.

A rich life indeed, well deserved, and earned, for an Auburn man, Alex Thomas. 

Alex Thomas resides in Montgomery, Alabama with his wife, Margo, daughter, Kasie, and son, Avery.  Avery is a heavy lean to the Auburn Tigers at this point.  “A.T.” is an officer for the Juvenile Division Montgomery County Family Court.

(Vol. XI, 2009, Auburn vs. Georgia, 14 November, 2009)

And Lo, as the day shortens, and darkness falls, omens surround, and to all who wouldst hear, and listen, doth the ancient gong of war sound.  Beware! Leaves are rustling in the woods, and things are falling off thy shelves.  The plates of earth rumble and shift. They pound a sacred warning which only the wise may hear.  Familiar in the deep recesses of memory, and ancient, is the rumble ye hear, a primordial drumbeat of death to the unworthy warrior.  The Corner of Amen.  Into its narrow and treacherous corridor hath the Great Corner funneled scores of weaker warriors unto slaughter, purifying the battlefield of the impure, who battle not for country, but for self.  It is on this great battlefield, and not by scribe nor soothsayer, that the sacred book of Tiger lore is written, for it asks the ultimate sacrifice of he who wouldst dare enter the arena.  No place for young boys nor maidens is the Corner, and in its wake is left the blood red trail of the fallen, and the carcass of the unready warrior for the birds of prey to feast.

Arise, Tiger-walking minions, and larynx-raging youth! The Day arriveth.  By the sword of Dooley and the armor of Dye is the word spoken, in hushed tones.  Amen.  Amen.  Welcome, ancient warrior’s test, Oh Corner of Amen.  Ye cometh to cleanse the battlefield of the unworthy, and to bestow the right of bragging to the southern conqueror.  Oh Corner, who laughs its relentless scorn at the fat-bellied yankee warrior, who endureth but one or two scrapes, and not nine fights to the death.  It careth not of past battles, and rewardeth only the ready warrior.  Its battle lore hath been painted with the blood of slain Goliaths, and with triumphant Davids, whose flagging campaigns restoreth their glory in this solitary clash.  Into this corner, this lair of dread and danger, shall march only the boldest.

Who from among ye will ariseth, and prophesy of warriors found worthy in battle, and of the fierce defense of our fair maidens and young?  Who will entereth the Land of Big Hair and Milwaukee’s Best to silence Ooga and swill the victory grog?  Have thine eyes not seen the bone-jarring battle deeds of our young warriors, and the coming restoration of Tigerly pride?  Verily, I prophesy unto thee, a plan of divine proportions now formeth, even as scribes and soothsayers babble senselessly, and see not the approaching storm.  The corner of Amen shall expose the over-hyped, and restoreth the balance of Tiger power.  And the fat-headed fools shall be silenced. 

We built not this army upon chest-thumping victories over defenseless foes.  Of that food is borne the fat head of future defeat.  Lo, as steel which is forged in the furnace, hath our army been readied in the flames of stinging defeat.   There, shall the young warrior wrestle as he must with the angel of doubt, and arising victorious, battle fearlessly thenceforth.  Bruised, but not beaten, defeated, but not dead, and steeled in their resolve were our warriors, rising up to put down the rebellion of Ole Myth on All Hallows Eve.  And felled in the battle of Hallows Eve was our proud warrior, Zac.  And Lo, emblazoned upon our battle armor is the number four, as we march onward to avenge his loss.  We march now confidently to to a most ancient battleground known as Jordan Hare East.

One hundred and twelve number the battles in this most ancient of wars.   Fifty and six to the Tigers, fifty and six to the People of Ooga.  Fifty and seven shall be enscribed in orange and blue upon the sacred book of battle lore.

There dwelleth the People of the Dawg, a smelly, squatty and over-bred brood who mysteriously barketh forth battle grunts and Tiger taunts despite scant battle lore.  The People of Ooga, squatty pugnosed Leghumpers, loud in the taunting, and whimpering in battle.  Confused is this race in identity, alternating in battle armor from red, to black, to red and black, black and red and white helmet, to all black, all red with white boot, hopping at battle’s start in the tribal dance of the Soulja Boy. 

And Lo, even now, this pack of hunkering pugnosers with their big-haired, big-bodied dog-wenches bowleg boldly toward their tailgates of malt liquor and foul meats, pausing only for right leg-lifts at unsuspecting foliage, or to sniff and whiff anatomical unmentionables.  And, lo, these prophets of the Dawg do slander the great name of the Tiger, and in vile defiance doth this leglifting race grunteth forth their Tigerly taunts, and call us the Tiger Eagles of the Jungle Plains.  And, verily, the People of the Dawg are shrill in the bark, but soft in the bite when battle rages past the October harvest.  They drink not of the cup of brotherly respect that adorns the table of the Tiger, but instead swill and spew the big-headed brew of unearned arrogance. 

Now summoneth forth King Chizik his angry warriors, who one night henceforth in the land of the Hedges shall avenge the Dawgly streak of three.   They have added unto to their number the lightning speed of the Squirrel, and he shall leave many lumbering slow pugnosers in his wake of great velocity.  And even as the hyperventilating hounds race left and right, hither and thither, shall the power of Smashmouth be unleashed.  In the distance shall the onlookers here the sound of the locomotive, but its force shall be embodied in Ben.  In this, his last Corner of Amen, ‘tween the hedges, shall he lay claim to greatness, and shall his name be added unto the whispers of Running Back U lore. 

And Lo, shall the Dawgly marksman, a mere red-headed dwarf, be swarmed by a slobberknocking onslaught of dredlock rage.  Gazing with horror upon the exploding malatoff cocktail of Malzahn, shall the Dawgly leader, King Sling Blade, lay down his arms in surrender at battle’s half.  Tired and beaten, he shall be spared, and exiled from his kingdom to minister unto the whimpering pugnosers, for King Chizik is honorable, and seeks not the death of the defeated, if also honorable. 

Ye of little faith.  We entereth now the Corner of Amen, and a Great Amen shall go up.

And much victory grog will be swilled, tissue tossed, cheer-wenches yell, dance-maidens dance, and finest meats fed the Tiger.  And a day of reckoning fourteen days henceforth shall await the Crimson Kneck Elephant Tide, who shall bring their meek streak of One on the trembling knees of their bungling marksman, Opey, into the deafening arena of Dye, where first didst they taste the death of the unbeaten dream, twenty years thenceforth.

Amen.

Manly Tiger

Auburn Tigers   38    Leghumpers   23

Not THAT Brother {Oliver}!  Taking one stiletto in the back from a bammer-at-heart coach (who butchered the Auburn Creed in the pregame locker room as interim head coach) once is enough for me, thank you, even if he does have a great blitz package. 

I speak, instead, of the elusive glory days of Auburn football, evading us for nigh on five years now if you judge by the breathtaking litmus test of 2004. 

The cyclical cruelty of college football is well established, yet ignored by greedy fans, fueled as it is by the primordial savagery of recruiting competition (and its “unlevel playing field” if you take my meaning), player attrition or failed talent evaluation, and the rise and fall of coaching regimes to name but a few factors. 

Some segments of Auburn faithful, who as a rule are beloved for their passion and patience,  today seem less inoculated for the bammeresque microwave mentality.  In most respects, this is positive, to the extent it signals the death of the eight wins, late December bowl standard of success that may have sated the palate of prior generations.  But the mentality can also be a bear trap (pun intended) which fosters an NFL-ish culture of disruptive instability that in fact contributes to bad cycles.

As one Auburn fan observed, it is all too easy to contract optical rectalitis after the rollercoaster of tsunami offensive production which ebbed to one-foot baby pool since Fayette Nam.  But I humbly advise here the long-term view of the Auburn Tigers, starting with the attitude our promising recruits seem to embody.  Barring a shocker, 5-star RB Michael Dyer will announce for Auburn on November 6th.  Auburn remains in it for 5-star RB Marcus Lattimore, who makes an official visit this weekend.  RB Lache Seastrunk and WR Trovon Reed are still very much in the picture for the Tigers.  Coach Chizik is playing with house money in the linebacker sweepstakes with the state’s three best (that’s my story and I’m sticking to it) in Jake Holland, LaDarius Owens, and Jawara White, along with Georgia linebacker phenom Jessel Curry who will enroll at Auburn in January.  At this stage, a Top 10 signing day class is probable, and Top 5 class not impossible.

So why do I take this patient position?  Just blinded by sunshine, you say?  Well, actually, it has less to do with orange and blue sunshine and a lot more to do with logic (minoring in Philosophy has its benefits, few though they be).   Like so:

1. Coach Chizik is our coach (and I’m glad he is based on the “big picture” - moves he has made, the fact he is an “Auburn man”, and his upside).

2. Barring some outrageous issue that arose (fireable offense) which won’t happen, he will be our coach at least through 2012 or 2013.

3. A “pure” analysis of Coach Chizik’s head coaching ability is impossible to make under current circumstances. The jury is out on CGC, and will return in 2-3 years with a verdict.

4. The staff is recruiting lights out, especially given that they are up against negative recruiting including our record last year, in-state media antagonism, and poor play the last three games.

5. Regardless of who our head coach is 3-5 years from now, he will stink up the joint UNLESS HE HAS SEC-CALIBER TALENT AND PLENTY OF IT to deploy.

6. : Ergo, be positive and patient.  Be “that guy” that recruits talk about at the Tiger Walk, and why they want to wear the blue jersey.  Only a fan who has optical rectalitis  would believe that any positive result comes from joining the cacophony of critics, boo-ers, or naysayers, or prophets of doom.  Analysis?  Absolutely.  My purpose is not to squelch free speech.   (Tip of the day:  How do you know if your “analysis” crosses the line from analytical to destructive?  Can it be used against AU in recruiting?  Are you going to become a YouTube ”hero” like the jackleg who booed at the AU airport?  To paraphrase the U.S. Supreme Court justice’s opinion on the difference between art and pornography . . . “I can’t define it for you, but I know it when I see it.”)

Ah, the age of microwaves, $.99 iTunes, relationships by text message, and instant Nirvana . . . Bah gawd, give me a national championship, and give it to me now!  Why me?  Why ain’t my team winning like the Gators?  And the gridiron gods reply . . . WHY NOT YOU?  It was only five years ago that you had the most magical, impressive regular season in the last 20 years of the SEC, and yes, you wuz robbed of the BCS Title shot with USC, but DON’T BE A BAMMER.  The BCS title game is a mythical national championship.  As much a media created champion as an on-the-field champion, as much as every fan would relish the “mythical hardware”.

Our day will come again, Auburn, and when it does, we will savor the conquest like a fine Napa wine that was aged in the cellar (bad metaphor, sorry) for the perfect, preordained period of time.  The truth of college football is, if you take the bammer view (championships are all we are happy with) you will by definition be miserable at the close of about 90% of seasons.  If you dub me a champion of mediocrity because I state the mathematically obvious here, then I will meet you at high noon in the town square, and fart in your general direction. 

“Frequently, the difference between success and failure is the resolve to stick to your plan long enough to win.”

                  – David Cottrell

So it’s all about adherence to the plan.  There is a plan, and while bumpy and even ugly at times for now as both staff and players deal with first year transitions, I believe in Coach Chizik’s plan.  Here’s the adherence formula ($1 to Lee Colan) . . .

Strategy + (Focus x Competence x Passion) = Achievement Level

(Where “Adherence” = the exponential elements of Focus x Competence x Passion).  

Research of corporations and teams will show you that what sets high-achieving individuals and teams apart from their peers is adherence to a strategy.  A mediocre strategy with strong adherence will produce better results than a brilliant strategy with minimal adherence.  What I’m calling adherence here is in football, I believe, synonymous with “continuity” in a program.  Building the pipelines, creating a sense of long-term stability so that players and their Mamas believe their son is going to a college where the coach they chose will be the coach at their graduation.  Changing coaching staffs happens, and is essential at some junctures as it was for Auburn in 2008, but you damn well better understand the disruption factor.   It is not low risk, and requires a minimum 2-3 year transition period for a return on investment.

While winning a beauty (if you can call their style of play recently “beautiful”) contest right now, the bammer nation will sooner than later learn a painful lesson about the pricetag for selling your soul (forgive the presumption here) and surrendering institutional control (again, forgive the presumption here) for a head case coach. 

If you’ve been watching closely, our 2010 recruits almost to a man refer to the sense of “family” as their deciding factor in committing to Auburn.  If we are indeed an “Auburn Family” as we proudly brand ourselves, we should realize that we’re in this gig together.  We can and should be the “Passion” in the adherence formula.  For me, that includes an early departure this Saturday for the bloody mary venue of Auburn vs. Ole Myth.  Get your rear, or some other good Auburn fan’s, in your seats by 11:00 a.m.  There is no excuse to “sit on” your tickets when there are plenty of less fortunate Auburn fans who would never forget the opportunity to be there.

If you’re a long-term investor, Auburn is a “buy” right now. Wait til 2010, you missed the window. This month is the 5-year low on the AU stock price. Day traders, load up on bammer and Florida, but have your finger on your “sell” button.

See you at the Tiger Walk at 9:00 a.m. this Saturday!   And remember, change is inevitable, but misery is optional.  

Eagle5

 (Vol. VIII, 2009, Auburn vs. LSU, Tiger Stadium, Red Stick, LA, 24 October, 2009)

It came to pass in the year of the blind zebra, two thousand and nine, that a plague of yellow flags, bobbled balls, and fallen defenders didst visit the holy land of the Loveliest Village, sent to sift loyal subject from betrayor, and proud warrior from coward.  For King Chizik, in his wisdom, hath surveyed the chinks in the orange helm, and the blunt edges of spear and sword, and prayed unto the gods to purify our race, and to strengthen our ranks, even if at the cost of defeat.  

And Lo, I return this day to the fearless nation of the conqueror, and do here prophesy what ye shall see with your own eyes, commencing one day henceforth.  And in your seeing, shall you again believe and cast off the mantle of the underdog, who doth hope for the best, yet expect the worst.  For in the deadly and dishonorable lands of the Swamp, the Dawgly wasteland, and the stench of West Vance are the unconfident slain.

Yet even now, doth the stench of deep fried coon ass corn meal wafteth through the swamp of Red Stick, home of King Lesticles, so dubbed for the surgical implant of an incorrect anatomical part into his tiny brain. 

The Valley of Death.  Land of the Serpent, James of the Carvilles.  Home of the vile unwashed masses whose drunken hysteria visits anarchy upon all visitors in the night air of Bataw Rooje.  And as hath been written, and passed down from generations, the People of the Corn Dog are so named for the malodorous contempt which infuses the very epidermis of this refugee land.  Battered and fried is the Dog of Corn.  And Lo, battered, covered, smothered, and scattered shall be the People of the Battered Wiener on a Red Stick.  For they shall be found with Les, and be exiled Miles into the stench of their underwater wasteland.  Rancor and treason rises from within their ranks, and a plot to overthrow King Lesticles hatches even now. 

And now, cowering not from defeat in our dwellings, hath our people arisen, and raised their voices as one:

“Rise up, Tigers!  Cry not of the excuse of the defeated, and drink not of the wine of despair, for battle rages on, honor the prize.  We shall march with thee this day, unto the land of the unclean.  On the mighty shoulder of Ben shall we first crammeth the football down their foul throats from which these mouth-breathers do emitteth forth the remnants of corn dog and malt liquor.  And then, shall the arrows of Malzahn find their weakened flank, felling the pompous purple defenders.  And in this land of unwashed, sausage-subsisting, swamp-dwelling faux-French do they lie in ambush, hoping in arrogance to restore their battle honor by the blood of the true Tiger.”

Lo, they know not the death which shall be visited upon their homeland soil, one night henceforth.

In cover of night hath King Chizik hatched a lethal assault, and kept from watchful eyes the might of our forces.  For peaceful lies the Tiger, until in righteous anger he is stirred.  And the babbling boobs hath roused the beast . . . from his lair the plates of the earth rattle and shift, a sacred summons unto war.

And Lo, I return this day to the fearless nation of the conqueror, to prophesy of bravery to come, an assault unforeseen.   Holy and brave people of Auburn, dream not of future glory!  Our chiseled warriors sharpen arrow and spear, and gird their loins for battle.  Firm is their resolve, and steeled their glance.  Strong is their love of country, and brother, and no disunity breaks their ranks.  They know well their battle plan, and fire funnels up their nostrils.  For Lo, shall they swarm as if a pack of Tigers uncaged, yet as one . . . for the strength of this pack shall be the warrior, and the strength of the warrior shall be the pack.  Though outnumbered, we shall fight with the ferocity borne of hunger and scorn, the food of the conqueror.   

And Lo, the scorn of the soothsayer and mockery of the scribe is but a gnat upon a mighty beast.  King Chizik is undeterred in his sacred quest, seeking not the love of the scribe, as hath the Dishonorable Dwarf of West Vance.  He genuflects not before the false prophets of gloom, and accepts no audience with the slobbering soothsayers of doom.  Mouth breathing fools!  Ye speak as if trained in the art of war, yet hath not once distinguished thyself on the battlefield.  Not once hath your bloodshot eyes gazed upon the Sacred Book of War, in which are recorded the battle deeds of blue-jerseyed heroes, whose blood was spilled for the honor of this land. 

Unto what chromosomal mishap hath the Feaux Tigers pledged allegiance?  King Lesticles, a man of cursed anatomy, reversing at birth his man-loins and brain.  A man of inaudible mumblings, and confused ranting, unaware of his naked emperor’s march unto certain death. 

And long into the cool October eve shall the sweet smoke of victory riseth up in joy, but shall a dark cloud of doom encircle the West Vance prisoner camp, where the boy King, Lame of the Kiffins, shall invade and seize victory from the Crimpson Kneck Elephant Tide nation amid wailing, gnashing of teeth, and brick hurling. 

Amen.

Manly Tiger

Auburn Tigers   31     LSU Corn Dogs   24

(Vol. VII, 2009, Auburn vs. Kentucky, Jordan-Hare Stadium, 17 October, 2009)

And Lo, didst the proud warriors of the Plains march unto ambush in the land of Willy the Slick, Fayette Nam.  A dread curse was purveyed unto the dark lord of the Hogly nation, King Bobby the Backstabber, and its poisonous spell cast upon the Tiger warriors even as they slept in battle preparation. Elusive is the Dark Lord from the long arm of the law, wanted in many lands for crimes of treason, and welcomed by no land save the mutant land of the Swine, for subhuman is this species.

Sleepwalking in the elixir of the venomous curse didst we enter battle, our warriors stumbling in aimless stupor, bungling and fumbling where once we had dashed and roared, smashed and scored.  Blunted were the broadheads of our once lethal arrows, and unchallenged was the ghastly swine marksman, Drago the Giant. 

Six days hath our song of lamentation fallen in the drizzle of October upon the Loveliest Village.  Amid this defeat hath our people receded into their dwellings, and the smack talk of the conqueror gone silent.  But Lo, it is with divine purpose, not destruction, the sting of defeat, and the angel of the victor, sent by the gods who even now smile upon our land, hath whispered this truth unto King Chizik.  He hath purified with holy water the foul venom of the Dark Lord, and awakened now is each warrior, resolute in his cause, and pressed onward by the anger of the righteous.  Gathered as one, the army of the burnt orange and navy, didst they stand heads bowed, as King Chizik stepped from the shadows.  And Lo, before the wide eyes of his army, didst King Chizik draw his sharpened sword, raise it aloft with both arms, and thrust it deep into a solid rock amid the tribal gathering, and spaketh thusly:

“On this day, shall this be known as the Sword of Rocker, our brave general who humbly doth serve, and whose mere visit upon the ancient battlefield didst send the unworthy foe in flight.  No warrior who dares to wear the orange and blue shall enter battle without touching this sword, and pledging only bloodthirsty ferocity in the arena of Tiger battle.  Nor shall he cry in pity of the enemy outnumbering our army, for it is the glory of battle which fills the Tiger’s spirit, not the certainty of victory.  Be it understood, brothers all, that should a warrior touch the Sword of Rocker, but be of false intent – he shall be struck instantly dead.  And Lo, never again shall the name of the Tiger be blasphemed by the sight of hapless, fat, fumbling or frightened warriors.  And though defeat may mark the honorable warrior, never dishonor.  Come forth, now only ye manly, and depart ye soft skinned, to be banished from the land of the Tiger evermore.”

And then, didst every warrior one by one arise, and as if aglow in the fire of conviction, and placing his right hand on the sword, didst utter the oath of the Rocker.  And there, didst an Angel of Strength visit the fallen warriors, and the spirit of David entereth, which legend holds is passed in secret to the troubled heart of the defeated warrior, restoring him in strength and courage. 

And on this day, with a Mild Cat prowling the outskirts of our homeland, intent on invasion, I prophesy not of doom.  A plan, sacred in its foundation, crafted by the gridiron gods yet transcending human understanding, unfolds before thy sinking eyes.  Great shall be its story, and untold the riches of conquest it bestows on our fair land.  It shall sweep many strong and swift warriors in its wake unto this good land.  

Return unto the Field of Dye, before nightfall, one night henceforth, where we have slain all invading foes, and shall again.  Be not silent, and envelope in deafening roar the unworthy Cats, who dwell in the Land of Hoops, and hath angered the gridiron gods with the idolatry of the roundball.  They shall see, and believe, the might of Malzahn, in the blinding light of the field of Jordan and Hare.  Caught unawares, and defenseless shall be the Mild Cats, battered beyond recognition by a pounding ground assault and renewed aerial attack, dying with but a meow at battle’s end. 

And with victory assured, shall the cry of the Eagle of War return, and shall King Chizik declare a night of rejoicing, and shall victory grog be swilled, cheer-wenches cheer, and dance-maidens dance, sweet smoke of the victor riseth up, and tissue be tossed long into the clear, cool night. 

And verily, shall we ride again unto the road of the conqueror, to the Land of the Corn Dog, vile swamp of the unholy, the Stick of Red.  And there in the night air of the drunken Cajuns, before the watchful eyes of the pigskin nation, shall the sacred plan turn its next page.  And the People of the Plains shall smile. 

Amen.

Manly Tiger

Auburn Tigers   42     Kentucky Mild Cats   6

(Vol. VI, 2009, Auburn vs. Arkansas, Reynolds Razorback Stadium, Fayette Nam,10 October,  2009)

And Lo, didst the people of the Tiger invade the land of the barefoot inbred intent on conquest, and undaunted by the Boy King, Lame of the Kiffins.  King Chizik stood defiantly at battle’s start, and scoffed aloud at the toothless nation, who dared to decree the ban of the Battle Walk.  “Ye shall deny of us the right to assemble peaceably, to walk into battle, and to speak in freedom?  Ye shall desecrate the blood of freedom which our forefathers spilled?  Then we shall march violently amid thy wretched one hundred thousand, casting them aside as if gnats upon the loins of the Tiger.”  And striding proudly didst he march unto the Gates of Neyland, parting the sea of dreamsicle orange as thousands of Tiger crusaders poured into the battlefield.  And there, in blinding speed didst the Tiger assault unfurl before a panorama of bloodied Vols in tears upon the checkered gridiron.  As battled raged on without ceasing didsts enemy warriors by the dozens drop dead in the vise grip of suffocation.  Oh, Fatigue, foolmaker of the unworthy, and friend of the proud Tiger! 

And Lo, at battle’s climax, didst our ground forces strike the loudmouthed, Eric the Rapper, who bore the number fourteen, with the battering ram of Ben.  Crushed was he as if a sparrow, his carcass left for the birds of prey.  Ne’er again shall he speaketh with the arrogance of the conqueror, nor shall he challenge the army of the burnt orange and navy blue.

The smell of weakened prey rose amid the Knoxburg air, and the Tiger circled, closed in, and brought a swift death to the Kiffin charges. 

And without great pause, nor celebration, hath King Chizik led the army of the righteous to a still darker, loathsome land, which few have navigated . . . the Land of the Swine, Fayette Nam.  From ancient battle lore riseth the legend of the People of the Pig, also known as the Whoo-Soo-Wee Tribe, Squealing louder and louder from the Land of Willy the Slick.  This squatty, overfed, mud-wallowing brood hath been given in servitude unto a mercenary war lord, whose sharpened stiletto is stained with the blood of King Tubs.   Led now by a Dark Prince of Deceit, mercenary of many lands, and wanted for treason in our fair land and many others – Backstabber Bob.  Many are the snorting ones who hath in their sty of slop pledged allegiance unto the Dark Lord, King Bobby of the Petrinos, for desperate is this vile band of hogs to win the respect of the conqueror.  One year thenceforth didst the People of the Pork banish and exile their failed King Nutt Case, who himself practiced deceit.  In folly, didst King Nutt banish the genius of the battlefields, Gus of the Malzahns, and shall the Hog Nation face a day of atonement for the sins of their fathers, one day henceforth.

Oh, Darwinian process, shower thy mercies on these southern wastelands, and select from out of nature this swine from our continent!  Verily, instead of cowering in shame, which wouldst befit the curse of a dirt groveling species, they sing proudly of their razored backs, and pugged snouts, and dub swinely names upon their hog-nosed offspring.  Aporkalypse Now, Hawgustus Caesar, Hammy Davis, Rooster Hogburn, Hideke Pigsooie, Notorious P.I.G.   Bemused, confused, oinking and snorting, even as the honorable tribes laugh in mockery and scorn.  Few are their conquests, devoid of crowns their kingdom, and commanding fear from few.

Of envy is this enemy’s hatred born, and their challenge unto King Chizik issued, for they gaze upon our unattainable maidens, who wouldst reject the porkly warrior.  And condemned as they are to their homely cow-hogs, each yellow faced, wrinkle cheeked, and bushy browed.  Bleary eyed and black chinned, and yea, verily, upon their faces the unsightly stubble of a beard. 

But Lo, in sweet Auburn is the chant of the victor heard, and strong is its sound across the Loveliest Village, home of the unvanquished.  There, hath our people gathered in praise, and homage unto the gridiron gods, our prayer and supplication for victory in the land of Spam and Ham lifted high. 

And born on the wings of the Eagle, didst this message, enscribed upon an coonskin, arrive unto the Loveliest Village.  Before the gathering throng at the Corner of Toomer, didst the town cryer read thusly:

“I give unto thee, People of  Auburn, this message from our victorious King Chizik . . . Great and proud People of fair Auburn, we didst march unchallenged in the Land of Neyland and slay the enemy amid thy shouts and victory cheers.  We march onward, with a sacred purpose to rid these wastelands of the unworthy.  Good women and children of the Plains, retreat now unto safe haven, for unclean are these mud-wallowing swine and their slaughter unfit for the young.  Many shall be the fallen hogs, and bloody shall be the butchering – yet victorious shall we stand.  We shall return, two days henceforth, and gather before the ancient oaks for the victor’s welcome!  Ready thy sacred rolls of paper, and brew the victory grog, for unready shall this squatty breed be found for the assault which cometh tomorrow!”

Lo, shall the god of the snot bubble and the belly grunt smile, and shall King Chizik slaughter the hogs.  And marching to battle’s summit, shall King Chizik summon King Bob, and drawing his mighty sword, lop off the head of the Betrayor.

And returning to the holy land of the Tiger, shall the ghastly hog be impaled upon a spit, and roasted before the singing throngs of orange and blue-clad faithful.  And the women and children shall be summoned from hiding to join in song and dance.   And for many nights shall the People of the Tiger replenish their strength in feasts of bacon and of sausage, ham and spam, victory smoke rising into the cool Auburn night!

Amen.

Manly Tiger

Auburn Tigers   45    Pig Sooie    27

(Vol. V, 2009, Auburn vs. Tennessee, Neyland Stadium, 3 October, 2009)

Lo, it came to pass that the gridiron gods didst look with favor on the once tired and defeated warrior of the Plains, and as prophesied, the mountains have been laid low in the path of the unvanquished Tiger.  The dread curse of three and out now exorcised, our army readies for the march northward, unto the land that Colgate and Crest forgot.

I shall not be silenced now, even as battle rages on, and King Chizik untethers the Tiger to stalk his prey, even as his razor-edged teeth flash red of enemy blood.  Come forth, and gather in the conqueror’s den.  The cool October air descends upon this place, and signals the time of revelation, three nights henceforth. 

Before a million watchful eyes, with ferocity and force hath our homeland been defended in battles four, against worthy though unheralded foes.  In ruin lay the sacred book of battle record, shattered weekly by our renewed and lethal marksman, Todd.  Diverse is the arsenal of Gus, without pattern his weaponry; as deadly in its power as it is beautiful in its speed.  On this holy soil hath our grizzled warriors fought, and were they found worthy, and hath our young warriors been hardened by sword and spear.  The slain remains of these unworthy enemies hath been washed from the battlefield of Dye by the purifying rain of the gods, and fertile is our land with the organic matter of the fallen.

King Chizik hath cast aside the doubter, and ordered the exile of he who wouldst cower in fear of any southern foe.  And verily, word travels now throughout the southern badlands of the return of the Tiger, and of our holy crusade to cleanse the southern battlefields of the lawless war lords.  Many are the doubters, giving not the alms of praise, nor ranking amongst the conquerors our proud warriors.  But King Chizik marcheth onward, undeterred in his course, and uncaring of the mythical conquest bestowed by the loudmouthed soothsayers. 

On this day, our proud warriors march in strength unto the road, northward to the land of the Appalachian inbred, Top of Rocky, home of the barefooted banjo pluckers.  No victory grog do they swill, but the putrid moonshine of the moron, and hath they pledged allegiance unto a boy general, dubbed Lame, of the Kiffins.  King Lame hath embittered the war lords of the south, for he has the tongue of the serpent, and venomous is his youthful countenance.  In the swamply land of the Teboy didst King Lame fight mightily, and was felled, yet the people of the inbred drink of the wine of the defeated as if they were conquerors.

Legend holds that King Lame didst send forth a mercenary operative to kidnap the lovely Layla, princess of the fairest cheer wenches of the left coast.  Held against her will as hostage unto King Lame, her prayer and supplication for rescue rises in the air as if a song.  Dishonorable in his ways, hath King Lame ordered the digging of a moat which surrounds the arena of Ney Land, to halt the Walk of the Tiger.  It shall not stand, for Lame has but emboldened our relentless march. 

Lo, hath our army turned their eagle eyes to the northern horizon, to the Land of Low Hygiene, where we shall invade, and claim victory.  Yeah, though we walk in the valley of the shadow of Neyland, we shall fear no Fulmer.  For King Pumpkin Belly hath been banished from the kingdom of the dreamsicle orange, as just desserts for his treasonous act unto King Majors. No easy battle ground is the Ney Land, as the malodorous contempt of unwashed Knoxburgians doth suffocate warriors like the noxious emissions of a Tennessee stud.  And this land is unsafe for woman or child, as the Inbreeders are a barbaric nation in which cousin, sister, brother, father and uncle are indistinguishable one from the other. 

People of the faded orange, ye shall gather thy children and tell of the pillaging and defeat which the great Tiger warriors visited upon the Field of Neyland, five years thenceforth.  There was thy arena emptied at the half point of battle, and didst thy orange-clad minions flee in horror at the panorama of carnage.  Prepare to die again.

We shall visit upon the Ney Land a night of Chizikian horror and the engulfing inferno of Malzahn.  Shocked, and awed, shall be thy Cro Magnon wenches at the sight of their fallen warriors.  The checkerboarded zone shall be crossed not thrice, but four times, at a speed which sucks the oxygen from the orange.

And having humbled the confused tribe of the protruding foreheads shall King Chizik march triumphantly unto center battlefield, and shall he brandish his sword, lopping off the head of King Lame, as his hired assassin shall cry aloud, “Yaw! Yaw!”  And amid this scene of Ney Land horror, one hundred thousand shall be the number of Vols in Tears who shall hurl themselves wide-eyed and screaming into the raging waters of the roaring river below.  And Lo, claiming the Ney Land as their own, the Tiger warriors shall shout in victory, and poureth forth the grog of victory, and puffeth the sweet cigar of conquest.  And their lovely cheer wenches shall cheer, dance maidens dance, until a midnight return to the tissue covered Corner of Toomer!

Amen.

Manly Tiger

Auburn Tigers  34   Tennessee  16

Based on intelligence reports of imminent threats from traveling Auburn Tiger fans, University of Tennessee head coach Lane Kiffin directed game day security to ban the visiting fan tradition known as the Tiger Walk.  Knoxville area residents and officials lavished praise on this rapid preemptive response by Kiffin to protect the citizenry of the Appalachian town.  Long time tailgater, Skooter Pickens, said with tearful eye, “My fambly is safe now, and it’s all because Coach Kiffin is tough on terrorism.  In 2004, them Aubies wuz rude to us, and made fun of our tooth, plus Ronnie Brown shoulda been flagged for unnecessary roughness on Jason Allen at the goal line.”

According to the Auburn University official athletics website, the road version of the Tiger Walk for the Tennessee game has been cancelled per the request of the University of Tennessee for “safety and security measures.”  Knoxville inhabitants, you can breathe a collective sigh of relief – your south end zone entrance is safe from flying shakers, Trooper Towels, and the deafening roar of 10,000 Auburn fans.   You are safe to tailgate again, free of such tyranny.  You can rest easy in the knowledge that your game day is kept safe by Knoxville’s finest, the Dreamsicle Kremlin, who have pledged an oath to eradicate all visiting fan spirit, cheers, and collegiate rowdiness.  Tennessee officials have indicated that opposing fans will be permitted limited use of the golf clap on game day, and in Neyland.

America, while you were distracted in your healthcare town hall rants, or your no taxation tea parties, a much graver thief of constitutional rights slipped in the back door.  I speak, of course, of the stripping of college football fan freedom to assemble and raise holy hell, and the inalienable right to trash talk.  Yes, even on the road in the SEC.  If you want to see a revolution of epic proportions, start messing with southerners’ game day traditions.

Not to fear, sports fans.  Reportedly, Lane Kiffin’s ill advised edict to ban opposing fan traditions at Neyland has been snuffed out by an “insider”.  Sources indicate that Kiffin’s supermodel wife, Layla, last seen sporting the Auburn Tiger version of orange (not the Home Depot or Dreamsicle orange) pouted to hubby that she was really looking forward to seeing what all the rage was about Tiger Walk, and all the Trooper hoopla.

Understandably no fan of marital celibacy, Kiffin relented.  A diplomatic compromise has been reached.  Game day officials will not make a stand when the Auburn faithful arrive to exercise their constitutional rights of assembly and free speech (which extends to the singing of the Auburn Fight Song, Bodda Getta, Two Bits, and shouts of “War Eagle”.)  Call it an Unofficial Official Tiger Walk, as traveling Auburn fans will assemble at the south end of Neyland at 5:30 EST.

In a foreign policy move, Auburn athletics officials are reviewing game day safety and security measures for future Tennessee visits to Jordan-Hare Stadium.  The following measures are under athletic department review:

1.  Ban on all water and Gatorade on the visiting team sideline (risk of drowning through ingestion by referees).

2.  Elimination of the visiting fan section in the corner of the north end zone (Vol fans could hurl themselves onto the playing field, injuring players, referees, or their own pep band).

3.  Ban on all visiting fan tailgating as the risk of physical confrontation with Vol fans is too great.  Vol fans will be allowed to tailgate in Phenix City, and will be bused in to Jordan-Hare, arriving by half time.  In this way, calm will be maintained in the stadium until the Auburn lead is prohibitive, at which point Vol fans can view the remaining carnage of the 2^nd half.