Tag Archives: University of Tennessee

Iconic Memories

20 Apr

I don’t know how many of you are sports fan, but I am one. Well actually, I am a University of Tennessee fan and follow them in just about every sport as one of those sidewalk alumni that has no other connection to the school. My dad brainwashed me at an early age, and I will remain that way from now on.

We Tennessee fans faced a tough prospect today as Pat Summitt, the legendary women’s basketball coach, officially announced her retirement due to the effects of Alzheimer’s, a disease that has in some way affected most of the people reading this. That doesn’t make Pat Summitt different from anyone else who has faced this dreaded disease, but the memories that she has given Tennessee fans does. This isn’t a tribute to her career or legacy. Those have been written by people more qualified than me. This post is about the memories that her time as coach has given me.

The first time I remember seeing the Lady Vols play was when my dad took me to a men’s game. Back then, one ticket could get you into a double-header with the women playing before the men. That was in the early 1980s, but it would not remain that way for long. Eventually, the Lady Vols would play their own schedule with their own tickets. On top of that, their attendance would surpass that of the men’s team.

I saw them play other games through the years. Regular season games in Knoxville. A few regular season games at Vanderbilt. Some SEC tournament games in Chattanooga and Nashville. However, the most memorable game was during the 1998 NCAA Tournament. The Lady Vols came in undefeated and considered one of the great teams of all time, but they were playing a tough North Carolina team to go to the Final Four. With the game taking place at Vanderbilt, I was able to get tickets on the front row for this battle royale, and the following took place.

I sat down with my friend Larry and awaited the start of the game. Then, a blue-haired lady sat next to us. She was obviously a Vanderbilt fan and cringed when she saw the gym fill with people wearing orange. (Sidenote: Vandy and UT fans do not get along.) She looked at my friend and said:

Blue-Haired Lady: How did you get these seats?

My Friend Larry: My buddy got them from a member of the Vanderbilt Board of Trust.

BHL: Who? I’ll have to talk to him.

Then, the governor, wearing a UT cap, walked in front of us.

BHL: Look at the governor wearing that orange hat. I only voted for him because Lamar (Alexander, former governor and current senator) told me to. I won’t do it again.

That’s when I yelled, “Hey, governor!” A typical politician, he acted like he knew me.

BHL: Look at that son of a bitch.

This is when Lamar walks in .

MFL: Ma’am, there’s Lamar. Looks like he’s wearing an orange tie.

BHL: (Grumble) I’m not voting for him again, either.

The game starts, and UT is in trouble. They aren’t playing well, and North Carolina is taking advantage. The blue-haired lady is shaking her North Carolina shaker in Larry’s face and knew that the Lady Vols were going to lose. That’s when Pat jumped the officials and got a questionable call to help turn the game around. As the North Carolina people boo, Larry looks at me and says, “You get those kinds of calls at home.”

BHL: (Growls) I tell you one thing sonny boy. This is not your home.

MFL: (Laughing) Well ma’am, our side of the scoreboard says home.

BHL: You’ll never get seats down here again.

Pat and her ladies won the game and finished the season undefeated, but victories were not always part of the formula. The first time I remember watching the Lady Vols on television was in 1984. My dad and I watched the University of Southern California and the great Cheryl Miller beat Tennessee in the national championship game. It was a time when people believed that Pat Summitt could not win the big game. She finally won a national championship in 1987. Then, she won in 1989. And 1991. And 1996. And 1997. And 1998. And 2007. And 2008. It turns out that she could win the big game. Together, my dad and I watched them all.

People have written about Pat Summitt’s legacy and contributions in numerous areas of sports and society. For me, her legacy is all of the great memories she gave to people like me, my dad, my friends and other Tennessee fans. The tragedy is that a point will come when Pat Summitt, the person responsible for all of this, will not be able to remember what she did and the joy she brought to so many.

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Terror on the Plateau

8 Mar

I recently wrote about my battle with the forces of nature while supporting my favorite basketball team. That event took place in 2008, but another event just as terrifying took place the next season.

In January 2009, I headed out with my friends, Jeff and McDonald, to watch the University of Tennessee play basketball against South Carolina. Being a night game, we got a late start and knew that we would have a late night return. We didn’t realize that we would be lucky to get home at all.

After a victory by the home team, we walked out of the arena and into a night that was damp but not cold, the type of night that we had driven through many times. Jeff, who was driving, hit Interstate 40 while we listened to the post game show on the radio. We were all hungry but decided to drive until the show was over. Having done this many times, all of us knew that this would get us to the Rockwood exit and a Ruby Tuesday’s.

We had a great meal before driving off into the night. As we walked out of the restaurant, it was impossible to ignore the fine mist falling from the sky, and I, without realizing it, made a fateful decision. I told McDonald that I would sacrifice and sit in the cramped backseat.

Traffic was heavy as we drove westward toward home, and the mist continued. It was a tricky drive, but something was happening outside that we didn’t realize. Between Nashville and Knoxville sits a geographic formation called the Cumberland Plateau that is higher in elevation that the two cities on either end of it. The higher we climbed, the colder it was getting. The fine mist was turning to black ice on the road.

The first sign of trouble was a pickup and a trailer that began swerving in front of us. We thought he just didn’t know how to pull a U-Haul and passed him. That’s when Jeff realized that we were on ice, and the vehicle was out of his control. For me, the next few seconds went into a mental slow motion. We were sliding along with other cars, and Jeff was trying to steer toward the guard rail to get us stopped. The mist was coming down, and fog had descended. That’s when the headlights hit something that no one could ever suspect. A wall was sitting across the road. Not a real wall, but an over turned tractor-trailer lying in our path.

Idiotically, I was not wearing a seatbelt and knew that I was in trouble. Without thinking, I laid down in the backseat and closed my eyes. From the back of my mind came the idea that I needed to stay limber. Maybe I heard it while watching a NASCAR race. Whatever the reason, I forced myself to stay loose on impact.

After that, I heard Jeff say, “I believe we’re gonna hit her, boys!” McDonald replied, “No shit!” Then, there was impact, and my head hit the back of the seat. Almost instantaneously, another vehicle, the one pulling the trailer, hit us. We sat stunned until someone from the outside yelled, “I smell gasoline!” The doors would not open, so we crawled out the smashed back window; climbed over the other truck; and, jumped over the guard rail.

I had the foresight to grab my cellphone as we escaped the carnage and called my parents when I knew that we were out of harm’s way. As I told them the story, I could hear crashes in the distance. Before it was over, we were car number one in a forty car pileup.

However, the night was just beginning. Jeff’s face smashed into the steering wheel, and he was losing blood and teeth at an alarming rate. McDonald couldn’t climb over the guard rail because his arm was broken. Luckily, I only had a scratch on my forehead. Immediately, people started scrambling. A woman was trapped in her car and under the truck. The TV announcer for the game was in the wreck as well. Truckers were climbing out of their cabs and trying to help. The air was getting colder by the minute, and the road was getting slicker. Now, we jokingly call it “Terror on the Plateau”, but it wasn’t funny that night.

I got Jeff into the cab of a truck for warmth and called his wife. I also called our friend Larry and asked him to call McDonald’s wife. That’s when I got a call from a friend caught in the traffic. He asked, “Are you caught up in this wreck?” I replied, “We are the wreck.” He sat in one spot until daylight.

After 1 1/2 hours, the ambulances began to show up. They were behind because seven other wrecks happened at the same time, and they couldn’t make it up the incline to us. It was too frozen. We finally got Jeff into an ambulance, and I waited for another one with McDonald. When it arrived, I stormed my way into it because it was the only ride I had into town. McDonald asked the paramedic if his arm was broke. The paramedic answered, “I don’t know, but it’s deformed.” That made us laugh for the first time in a while.

They checked us at the emergency room in Crossville while we waited for Larry, who had decided to head our way, to pick us up. He had a heck of a time too, as the interstate was closed coming from the west as well. When he arrived, I was sitting in a chair. McDonald had his arm in a sling. Jeff was sitting in a wheelchair and looking like Rocky Balboa after his first fight with Apollo Creed.

We were all nervous on the way home but finally made it at 6 in the morning.

After several operations, Jeff is back to normal, except for some false teeth. McDonald’s arm healed but only after he missed a season of senior softball. I was sore for a while but had no injuries. We have been to many basketball and football games since, and the terror of that night is slowly fading away. However, we still talk about that night as we go down the interstate, and I always look at the spot where the truck created a wall across the road. The spot where we lived several hours in our own disaster movie.

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On Top of the Tornado

3 Mar

Storms swept across Tennessee today and left some destruction in their wake. Tornado warnings and watches were all over as the map turned green, orange and red. Thankfully, not much happened around my house, but it reminded me of a time that I found myself on top of the tornado. This tornado to be specific:

In 2008, my girlfriend of the time and I traveled to Atlanta for the Southeastern Conference basketball tournament. We hit the afternoon session to see my favorite team, the University of Tennessee, win a close game. As it ended, fans from all of the teams filed out of the Georgia Dome in anticipation of the night session and more excitement to come. However, we had other plans. Dinner reservations at the restaurant on top of our hotel, the kind that slowly turns so patrons can get a panoramic view of the city. After dinner and a few drinks, we would hit the lobby bar before turning in. As we got dressed and prepared for the evening, we could not anticipate what was really going to happen.

As we left the room, she asked if we should take our phones, and I said no because we weren’t even leaving the building. We took the special elevator to the top and exited into a crowded restaurant with people laughing and dishes clanking. With a little time to wait for a table, we found a seat, ordered some drinks and watched the sky light up in the distance. Lightning was everywhere, but it was miles away. At no point did anyone think that it would have an effect on us. Then, it happened. I noticed a strange haze outside and suddenly saw a large piece of something fly by. I immediately grabbed my girlfriend’s arm and said let’s go. Why?

I could only say one word. Tornado.

As we moved it hit the hotel. Diners screamed and began to panic. Chandeliers swayed, hitting the ceiling with each swing. The building was swaying as well. Not a good feeling when you are 73 stories high.

People immediately began running down the stairs thinking that they could beat the fall if the building collapsed. There was no way I was getting trampled in that stampede, so we stayed behind and rode the elevator down with the restaurant staff. By then, the tornado had passed and the electricity had not gone out. It was the slowest elevator ride ever because we really didn’t know if we would make it all the way down. Luckily, we did, and, when the doors opened, we found a lobby turned into a refugee camp. People who had been on the street came straggling in covered with water, dirt, debris and with haggard looks on their faces. It was a disaster movie come to life.

As people continued to pour in, we learned what happened after the tornado hit. It traveled down the street, wreaking havoc along the way, and hit the Georgia Dome where a basketball game was being played. Fans and players scrambled as the roof was ripped apart and pieces fell on top of them. I realized that my dad would have been watching the game and seen the carnage. I didn’t have a phone and was banned from going to the upper floors. Knowing that my parents were home worrying, I could kick myself for leaving my phone behind, but I got lucky again. Sitting on the floor across from me was a man from my hometown. I used his phone to call home, and my parents relayed what they were seeing on television. It was hell outside, and we were lucky to be alive.

After several hours, we were allowed to go to our room and got there at the same time as the people next to us. When they opened the door, they stood with shocked looks on their faces. Like moths to a flame, we followed them in and saw their entire window blown out. We were standing in an open room 40 stories in the air. Lucky once more, our room was untouched.

We left the next day and, for the first time, realized what we had found ourselves in. Debris was piled on all of the streets, and demolition workers had cleared a path on one street to get people to the interstate. It was like driving through an apocalyptic landscape, and we were scared. The shock and adrenaline had worn off, and reality set in. We came close to death and never realized it.

Lucky has been used a lot in this post, but that is an understatement. It’s been four years, and I still don’t have adequate words to describe it.

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Tennessee Beats Vanderbilt – No, Really They Did

21 Nov

My favorite t-shirt has “12.21.2012” written across the front. For many, that date represents an important day in Mayan prophecy and the end of times as we know them. Many people in my part of the world felt that the true end of the world had come on 11.19.2011, the date that Vanderbilt was favored over Tennessee in a game played in Knoxville. In case you didn’t realize, that had never happened before. For those of us who see the world through orange-tinted glasses, this was true Armageddon.

Fortunately for us, the earth balanced correctly on its axis and there was not an instantaneous ice age (as in that stupid Dennis Quaid movie). Tennessee prevailed in a classic SEC battle of heavyweights. Vanderbilt displayed finesse with four turnovers and two missed field goals. Their two touchdown drives covered a total of 41 yards. Tennessee came through with some nifty plays of its own. Tyler Bray threw a 99-yard touchdown to the wrong team, and the kicker missed a field goal when he hit the long snapper in the ass.

I have sat through a lot of games, and these had to be the two worst teams I have ever seen go against each other. Bad playing. Bad coaching. Stupid penalties. As icing on the cake, there was bad officiating. It’s good for the conference that no one outside of Tennessee cared about this game. If the world was watching, then the pundits would be up in arms about the whistle-no whistle-fumble recovery-interception-nonreviewable review at the end of the game.

Sadly, Tennessee fans were cheering wildly at the end as the team stormed the field. This was a win against VANDERBILT, and people acted like it was the national championship. How far has the program fallen? Vanderbilt had four turnovers and two missed field goals, and Tennessee was still lucky to win. And, people were thrilled. It’s funny what we will get used to. The program is truly wallowing in mediocrity…scratch that – Hell.

Derek Dooley is not the man to turn it around. I can only hope that AD Dave Hart looked around at the empty seats and the empty orange pants on the sidelines and came to the conclusion that this needs to be over sooner rather than later.

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Arkansas 49 Tennessee 7

13 Nov

The University of Tennessee football team hit another low tonight in their loss to Arkansas. The squad now stands at 4 wins and 6 losses and needs to win the next two games to become bowl eligible. In the past, the final two games against Vanderbilt and Kentucky have been sure victories, but this year is different. I wouldn’t be surprised if Vandy is favored this week. Actually, they should be because they are the better team. That’s how bad things have gotten. Vanderbilt is better at football than Tennessee. Sad.

There was one positive about the game tonight. I watched it with my dad. He took me to my first game when I was six years old, and from then on I went to every game that he did. I imagine that a lot of adults would rather go without kids, but he always included me. I can remember riding in the back seat as he and my grandfather talked in the front. Our season tickets never changed, so the people around us watched me grow up. I still sit in the same seats. However, he doesn’t go much anymore.

In July of 1991, my dad suffered a massive stroke that affected his speech and paralyzed his right side. He spent years learning how to walk again and write with his left hand. He has worked hard and bounced back from an attack that most doctors expected would kill him. However, as he gets older the effects weigh him down more and more. For years, I took him to a few games that he felt comfortable going to. He took me, so I was going to take him. But, his one game this year was very hard. I doubt that he ever goes again.

I can sense my dad getting more feeble and realize that at some point he will no longer be here. That’s why watching games with him is so special. It is something we have done together as long as I can remember. A lot of sons remember playing catch with their dads. I remember going to football games with him. As I watched the game tonight, I realized that it didn’t matter who won or by how much. What matters is that we got to watch it together.

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