That Game

A lot of things have gone sideways in the last 24 hours of my life, so I want to get this down while it’s still somewhat fresh in my memory and I still have the reflected memory of what went down this past weekend.

I didn’t want to go.  I mean, I did, but I was slipshod on the planning (bailed out heavily by my lovely bride) and that usually leads to continuing anxiety as events get closer and closer without plans settled. Plus it’s Alabama, and the obligations of family, and there’s stress that goes with that.  Plus flying, of course.  But most of all, I think there was just the creeping fear that we’d lose, that it would be another thoroughly demoralizing experience like the Holiday Bowl in 2004 – that a team done wrong by the vagaries and politics of the bowl system would trip up and make it all for naught.

Oh me of little faith.  But more on that in a bit.

The first 24 hours after arrival were tied up with discharging family obligations, except for the mad dash to the coach’s call-in show.  Siri almost let me down, but then got my rental car to the right spot, and lo and behold – a bar, in Birmingham, completely full of Vanderbilt fans.  I saw all sorts of VIPs, I saw several players’ parents, and of course I saw Coach Franklin – I told him I’d gotten up at 3:45 AM in San Francisco to make it there, and he shook my hand vigorously and looked me in the eye with a smile and said “Glad you were able to make it.”  And I let it go at that, because he was working the whole entire room and I didn’t want to make an ass of myself, but he sure as hell didn’t look or sound like a guy with one foot out the door.

So anyway…Friday lunchtime, I finally meet up with my crew, and we decide that we need to pre-game the pep rally in Five Points South.  Long story short, we parked ourselves at J. Clyde’s, on Cobb Lane – a cobblestoned back alley that houses some secluded shops and restaurants.  I know that twenty years ago, a bar called the Back Alley Pub was a traditional senior night college spot…well, it turns out that we were in the former Back Alley Pub.  Better late than never.  They had an amazing selection of beers on tap – and this is an endorsement for Good People Brewing, the Birmingham craft brewery whose goods and services can stand up to any and every beer maker in America, for my money.

The pep rally itself was right on the corner of Highland and 20th, where they closed the streets for both teams.  That was the first indication that there were going to be some Vandy fans in town…they were swarming.  In short order, I was handed a Yuengling and introduced to a couple of players’ mothers, which led to doing a couple of shots with said players’ mothers after it got dark but before the pep rally started.  Which was pretty smart, because it got pretty damn cold out there.  But I looked around me and it was just black and gold as far as the eye could see, and everybody was wearing our logo and our colors and our name.

So after Franklin warmed up the crowds and introduced the new Mr. C (younger, bigger eyes, black hair, still creepy as hell), our by-now-enormous posse commandeered the shuttle bus to Dreamland.  Ribs, sweet tea, recovery time, and – ridiculously – a Birmingham barbecue joint packed FULL of Vanderbilt fans, occasionally letting rip with the Anchor Down cheer (I freely admit to leading four of them on the shuttle back from Dreamland to Five Points. The ride is three-quarters of a mile) and a huge chorus of “WHO YA WIT” as we rushed out the door.

Back through J. Clyde for a nightcap, and the most Vandy Lifestyle question ever: “Does anybody else think the new $100 bill looks like canned ass?”  And a comical incident with the next table over asking something about a cheer, which I promptly led everyone back into…yeah, we were kind of That Table.  But the thing is, the place was crammed with Vanderbilt fans.

You may be seeing a theme here.

Saturday morning, we get dropped at Legion Field.  Some walking around, and then the NCC official tailgate, and they have to pull an entire side off the huge tent to get everyone in. There are refreshments, and cheers, and barbecue and mimosas, and we formed up a HUGE contingent for Star Walk as the team went from bus to locker room (kicker Carey Spear actually had on an WWII army helmet).  Oh yeah, and Zac Stacy was in the crowd with us cheering the team on. And we get ourselves good and revved up before entering Legion Field – the same place where I used to watch the World League of American Football, or the CFL, or the XFL.

The announced crowd was 42,000, and that sounds about right.  But it was easily 90% Vanderbilt.  It was loud and rowdy and black and gold, and really felt like what the Vanderbilt home game experience should be like (aside from scoreboards and screens that haven’t been touched since Olympic soccer in 1996 and are barely suitable for a high school game). And we got to see Jordan Matthews deliver two touchdowns in the first half, and a 24-point lead in the first half…and a collapse in the third quarter and a 24-24 tie at the end of three.

And then we got to see Brand New Vandy, a team that takes care of business in the fourth quarter, and 17 unanswered points nailed down the victory behind dogged running from Seymour and Kimbrow and ferocious defense from the Black Death (and another hero interception by Andre Hal). And we won our ninth game for the second year in a row for the first time ever, and we were pretty sure we would finish in the top 25, and we were right.

The thing is…the thing I take away from this whole weekend…is that I may have finally, conclusively, once-and-for-all filled in the black hole of having no college friends.  This felt like I was going back to the game and seeing the old crowd and hanging out with people and having a good time – and because it was in Birmingham, I knew my way around and knew where to tell people to go and had memories and stories I could tell of this bar or that restaurant or what used to be around that corner.  For the first time, the whole package from those seven years could be rolled up and recycled for the weekend, and that was something I never expected to feel.

It was a triumph.

Unfortunately, the crisis in Nashville meant we didn’t get to enjoy it and relish it like we should, as we remain on tenterhooks to see whether we’ll still have a coach tonight or tomorrow or the next day, and it’s not sounding too good.  But for one weekend, Vanderbilt football was perfection.  And it’s something I won’t soon forget.

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