The Education of Giacomo Jones Ch. 06

This is a work of fiction and any resemblance by any character or situation to any actual person or event is purely coincidental. All characters presented in this narrative are over the age of 18.

CHAPTER SIX - Carolina Lullabye

Rance didn't see Mitch Glazer until he was walking beside him out of the practice facility and up the concrete steps to the practice field outdoors.

"Got a minute, Rance?"

"Well more like a few seconds, Mitch, but what's up?"

"Whitaker's out for the interview with you and Gia. He called me today and said CBS has put him on some special hush-hush assignment that's going to take up the rest of this year ang the early part of next year," Glazer said.

"Then we don't do an interview," Rance said with a shrug. "I don't have a problem with that. The rat pack has left us pretty much alone."

"Left you alone maybe. My phone's been melting down. We're ranked No. 3 in the country, Rance, and that along with this bloody Geno thing has them in a lather. Tennessee's ranked fifth, this game is on the same magnitude as, say, Ohio State-Michigan and they're going to be here in droves starting tomorrow, Rance. ESPN "Gameday" is going live from the Reserve. It's the second time in three Saturdays we're the featured ESPN game," Glazer said.

To his credit, Glazer had done a workmanlike job keeping ESPN away from Gia and Rance. He knew "Gameday" would have to do a substantial segment to air during Saturday's live telecast from the Reserve on the Geno Millions horror. But he stuck to his guns against the network's pressure to produce the two central figures in the tragedy for interviews. In their place, he offered Perry Hemphill, President Art Overshaw and the district attorney to discuss the crimes Geno committed and his gruesome end in the Honors College dorm. The piece, as aired, would be predictably shallow, overwrought and amateurishly mawkish, but the university shielded ESPN from Gia and Rance.

"But a lot of these people aren't going to be sportscasters, Rance, but the same celebrity-gossip-smut peddlers who showed up earlier and those people are going to be looking for you and Gia," Glazer said. "When they saw all those social media pictures of you and Gia in the crowd during that celebration after Georgia it was like teasing a hungry wolf with a T-bone."

"What do you want me to do, Mitch? I can't do anything about any of that. Are you telling me that you can't protect Gia and me?" Rance said, his impatience showing as his teammates were beginning their pre-practice stretching.

"We're going to increase security around the Honors College and the facility starting today, Rance," he said. "We'll have private cars available to discreetly take Gia where she wants to go and avoid having a caravan of these paparazzi following her on the streets. I think it's good if the two of you kept a very low profile and don't make yourselves available in public very much this week."

"Yeah ... naw, Mitch. We're not going back to living like hermits the way we did," Rance said, his mood darkening. "You said you could turn all this shit off if we agreed to talk to Whitaker and '60 Minutes.' We agreed. Now you tell me that's off. Are you just making this up as you go?"

"It's not off, Rance. Whitaker says they're assigning another producer and correspondent to it, somebody new — her name is Carolina something. He said she would fly her down here to meet you and Gia to see if you guys like her and if we could maybe keep the interview on the books."

Rance put his helmet on and snapped his chinstrap.

"Mitch, we got a ballgame to win in three days. That and Gia are all I have time to worry about," Rance said and trotted over to his fellow offensive linemen limbering up in the far corner of the practice field.

Glazer shook his head, took a deep draw from his vape pen, exhaled in disappointment, turned and walked away.

●●●

All over Fallstrom and on the bus ride from the team hotel to Fulbright Stadium, there were Tennessee fans wearing sweatshirts, windbreakers, hats, even pants and shoes in a gaudy shade of orange found only on traffic cones and hunting vests. It was a color — and a fan base — Rance knew well because his own parents were University of Tennessee alumni and avid Vols rooters until Rance chose Fulbright over Knoxville.

Unless Fulbright fans were scalping their tickets, there was no way all those Tennessee fans would fit into Fulbright's cozy stadium. It holds just over 60,000 people, or nearly 40 percent less than Tennessee's creaky, humongous Frankenstein's monster of a stadium expanded for nearly a century atop the bones of the original brick edifice where the teams General Robert Neyland coached had played.

In previous seasons, it was not uncommon for Generals fans to unload season tickets to fans of visiting teams. Who wanted to return to campus to watch their team get curb-stomped? But, Rance and his teammates hoped, today would be different; That Fulbright fans would show up and show out, hold onto their tickets and leave the orange horde on the outside listening to or watching the game on their smart phones.

Ed and Lorrie Martin were there. They had come in the night before. While they had booked accommodations through Tennessee's alumni association in a hotel it had reserved more than a year before, there would be no doubt about where their loyalties lie on game day. The comments they and their daughter, Renee, got as they exited the Tennessee hotel (Ed wore a green Fulbright sweatshirt and Lorrie wore a No. 74 Rance Martin jersey) were profane, even threatening. They found a warmer reception when they set up camp pre-game, tailgating in the Fulbright Reserve.

There was comfort, both to Rance and to his family, in seeing Gia back on the field, again helping the equipment and facilities crew set up and test the coaches' communications systems. Rance felt ready and apprehensive as he saw Tennessee's large, fast players warm up on the opposite end of the field half an hour before kickoff.

This was the team he had grown up watching, traveling with his parents on Saturdays from Chattanooga up Interstate 75 to Knoxville, watching the Vols in Neyland Stadium and returning home at night, even in the morning's wee hours after evening games. It was the team he once envisioned himself one day playing for. He was recruited by Tennessee, albeit not aggressively, and he got the feeling he was not a priority. But Fulbright made no secret of its desire for him. And, given the turmoil at Tennessee — long losing skid, the investigations into recruiting violations and improper player inducements and rapid coaching turnovers — Rance's decision to attend an elite, private university was easy.

Now, as he and his teammates prepared for this early afternoon game on a chilly day under a brooding, gray sky, Rance was at home here and couldn't fathom wearing any other color but Fulbright green on this day.

Warmups ended and the teams retreated to their locker rooms, ceding the field to marching bands and a talented young woman from just down the road in Greenwood, South Carolina who had advanced to the final rounds of the just-finished season of "American Idol" to sing today's National Anthem.

Before the game, sideline correspondents for ESPN had asked for on-camera interviews with both Rance and Gia, but assistant coaches shooed them away, citing policy that players and team personnel do not do interviews on gameday before or during games. The network had asked Fulbright to delay the game to 3 p.m., but it refused. With its "GameDay" crew broadcasting live during the morning from the Reserve, Fulbright figured — correctly — that ESPN wouldn't pack up and abandon its already announced venue. And if it decided to drop the Tennessee-Fulbright game, CBS would have been more than thrilled to pick it up.

Bottom line: this was the center of the college football on this day. It was currently the hottest ticket in America. The few tickets for sale on StubHub were commanding prices upwards of $2,000 apiece for sideline seats, $1,000 for end zones. And the tickets didn't remain unclaimed for long.

Now, in the pregame holding room just beneath the south end zone stands, Perry Hemphill and his team waited.

"Guys, you've been immersed in the bullshit and hype of this game all week, and like I've seen you do all year, you've put it aside. I am so proud of the businesslike way you've gone about this week, getting ready and working hard and studying. I know you're ready," he said.

"There are people out there who still think we're set up for a big fall, that Georgia was somehow a fluke, that beating folks like Kentucky and LSU somehow didn't mean anything either. Somebody told me just now that one of those "GameDay" idiots said words to that effect just a little while ago in picking Tennessee to win. And I tell you this for just one reason: it's going to be so much fun to make those morons eat their words in about three hours from now."

Then Hemphill got quiet. His chin quivered.

"But the most special incentive to go out and kick Tennessee's ass is this: it's the last game our seniors, who have done more than any group of players I've ever known to turn around this football program, will play on this field. I've never been more inspired in my life than the way you've inspired me," Hemphill said.

"Seniors, you guys come with me," the coach said as he led them out the holding room's double doors, down the tunnel flashing yellow and green to the portal that opens to the field. "You guys stand here til they call your names," he said.

Hemphill walked alone to the 25 yard line. There the families of each senior player were assembled, and each had a bouquet of yellow roses. One after another, fighting back emotion that made it hard for him to speak, Hemphill read each player's name. And after he did, the player jogged onto the field to a standing ovation to shake his coach's hand, embrace his family and accept the bouquet of yellow blossoms and green leaves and ribbons from them.

"Mason ... Gerow," he said into the microphone as his amplified words echoed across the expanse. "Wintell ... 'Mojo' ... Hale." The rangy tight end jogged toward his coach trying to duck his head to hide the tears streaming from his eyes.

One after another until all nine graduating seniors had come onto the field and taken their places alongside their families. Mojo stood embracing his mother, still sobbing.

Now at the entrance, the rest of the team ran onto the field and surrounded their departing seniors as they and their families walked toward the sidelines.

Tennessee won the toss and deferred receiving the kickoff until the second half. The kickoff return team was taking its place on the field when Stark Middleton sidled up to Hemphill.

"We're a pretty keyed up team, Perry. Just hope we're not too keyed up," Middleton said.

Hemphill nodded as he slid his headset over his ears. "We 'bout to find out."

●●●

Fulbright's first possession was futile. Tennessee blasted the kickoff through the back of the end zone so the Generals got the ball at their own 25. Three plays later, they punted from their own 22. Not since the game at Mississippi State had Fulbright gone three-and-out on the opening possession, and Stark Middleton's admonition rang loud in Perry Hemphill's ears. His offensive line seemed out-of-synch. Bookie Riemers ran the wrong way on second down, forcing Mason Gerow to eat the ball for a two-yard loss when he realized he had no one to hand the ball off to.

When the offense came off the field, Hemphill gathered them in their area of the bench and attempted to settle them down.

"Fellas, you've been here before. This is like the game at Vandy when you were so jacked up by the emotion of the moment that you needed a while to settle down, play your game and have fun. That's all you need to do right now. Take a few deep breaths, settle down and just go out and execute the way you have all season," the coach said. "You got this."

No sooner had he finished speaking than he heard a roar from the corner of the stadium clad in highway-crew orange and a collective groan from the overwhelming mass of the sellout crowd. On second down and short, Tennessee quickly took formation without a huddle, as was its style, in the same alignment that had gained eight yards on the previous play. The Generals lost sight of Tennessee's towering wide receiver who released down the right sideline and caught a 40-yard strike from the Vols' quarterback and raced in for the game's first touchdown with less than three minutes elapsed.

"That's OK, y'all. We gave up a cheap one. Now we fixin' to go out here and grudge fuck them orange assholes," Mojo said, the sentimentality in his eyes now replaced by a burning rage as he gathered his teammates on offense around him.

What Perry Hemphill had tried to do before he was so rudely interrupted by Tennessee's touchdown and Tennessee's band and its corny version of "Rocky Top," Mojo Hale had achieved in his own, profane yet singularly inspirational way: he made them relax, get back into their zone and onto the same page — and even laugh.

It was a wholly different team in the home green jerseys that took the field again on their own 25 after the second Vol kickoff bounced out the back of the end zone. The offense stood a good three yards behind the ball until the referees signaled that the network had returned from its three-minute commercial break. Then they quickly took their place on the ball, and Matt Crews snapped it quickly after the ball was signaled ready for play.

This time Crews and right guard Ora James tore open a large seam in Tennessee's three-man defensive front. The linebacker who tried to fill it was jolted backward by a block from Bookie Riemers, and his fellow tailback, Dorie Masters had a massive expanse of green before him. By the time a pursuing cornerback chased him down, Masters had flipped the field, giving Fulbright a first down on Tennessee's 23, a 52-yard gain.

The scouting report was right: the strength of Tennessee's defense was its linebackers. Its defensive front was big, mobile and physically powerful, but young and easily fooled. And the defensive secondary had a habit of biting on trick alignments and were easily misdirected by Mason Gerow's eyes as he looked one way and then threw to a receiver in a different part of the field. On the fifth play of the drive, Gerow hit Philando Fernandez in the end zone from 12 yards out and Gene Hurley, who had taken over as starting field goal kicker tied the game with the extra point.

This was shaping up as a high-scoring game, something that was widely predicted. The Volunteers took the ball from Fulbright and went right back on the march, finding the end zone for the second time to cap a 10-play, 80-yard drive - this time with most of the damage being done on the ground. Tennessee had found a way to attack the Fulbright perimeter and keep the defensive end from setting up outside containment and forcing the play back inside. That would be a problem all afternoon if the defense couldn't find a solution and Hemphill was talking intently to the defensive coordinator in the pressbox.

Now trailing by 7 points with three minutes left in the first quarter, the Generals got a strong kickoff return by lightning-fast defensive back LaShon Quigley, doing double duty on the kickoff receiving team. The Generals began their possession on their own 38, and moved quickly into Tennessee territory. Fulbright was doing an effective job keeping Tennessee's defense off-balance, hammering its front with fast-hitting carries by Bookie Riemers and Dorie Masters and, just when a pass seemed inevitable, finding a crease in the line that was good for runs of eight, 10 or sometimes 15 yards.

Fulbright was on Tennessee's 13 when Gerow found Mojo on first down in the end zone for what seemed to be a touchdown, but a late flag by the back judge negated the score and moved the ball back to the 23. The call was offensive pass interference for what the officials contended was an illegal pick play in which another receiver interfered with the defensive player covering Hale. The replay on the stadium Jumbotron showed no contact between the alleged offender and the defensive player. Fulbright fans were furious, booing the officials several plays after the call had been made. The Generals had regained the 10 yards lost to the penalty plus eight more to give Fulbright a fourth down and two at the Tennessee five. Perry Hemphill called his first time out.

"Rance, what are you seeing. Can you handle your guy enough to make 38 read option work?" Middleton asked the offensive team gathered near the sideline.

"I can handle the defensive end, but the problem is the linebackers. They flow and fill so fast. Maybe add some misdirection like the sweep we ran off the read option against Wake or the play action pass we ran off the 38 red option that we used to score against Georgia?" Rance said.

Gerow nodded. "Coach that pass play is there. We can make that work. We'll stack everybody in a full house backfield like a run and pop it for at least a first down if not a score," he said.

"Do it," Hemp said.

Tennessee put its heavy package in the game and pinched its down linemen inside to stop what its coaches figured would most likely be another dive through the center-guard gap. But to safeguard against the well-scouted 38 read option, the Vols walked their linebackers to within two yards of the line of scrimmage. Gerow couldn't have set Tennessee up for failure any better if he'd drawn up the defense himself. The play worked as advertised and Gerow found Fernandez wide open at the 2 for a walk-in touchdown.

And so it went. Tennessee scored another touchdown after a long drive and a field goal in the second quarter. Fulbright scored two touchdowns to take a four-point lead, 28-24, by intermission.

At halftime, Fulbright coaches, including Hemphill, focused on the defense, looking for a way to re-establish the perimeter without sacrificing too much up the middle or downfield on the Vols highly effective run-pass option game. The offense gathered on the opposite end of the holding room with Stark Middleton, who wanted to more to exploit the success Fulbright had running the ball right into Tennessee's middle, negating the sideline-to-sideline speed of the Vols' elite linebackers and forcing them to man up and stop the run. He liked it, however, because as it bred success on the ground, the more Tennessee would focus its defensive resources into the middle, exposing its already porous secondary to intermediate and deep strikes from the same type of high-octane run-pass option offense the Volunteers used so well.

"Guys," Middleton said, looking at his linemen, "this is your game. By that, I mean I want you to use your own initiative and your own smarts, to communicate with Gerow and figure out better ways as the second half plays out to outwit and best handle this Tennessee defense. I would say I've taught you all I can, but y'all have actually taught yourselves. I have faith in you, and I want you to have faith and confidence in one another now."

Indeed, the entire line had bought in fully to the sort of film study that Rance had taught Crews to do and that they had popularized with the entire line. It was as much a part of game-week preparation now as practice itself.

Tennessee took the kickoff to begin the second half — a freshman kick returner's ill-considered decision to try to run back a kick he caught five yards deep in his own end zone, giving the Vols the ball on their own 14. The halftime adjustments shut down Tennessee's wide running plays after the defensive end or linebacker — whoever had the responsibility for turning plays back inside — got deeper upfield. But Tennessee was having more success pounding the ball at Fulbright's smaller defense between the two tackles. The Vols had picked up three first downs and were just across midfield when what appeared to be another dive up the middle was instead a deep pass to Tennessee's tall, speedy flanker who leapt over LaShon Quigley and came down with the ball at the Fulbright 8 yard line. Two running plays later, the Vols faced third down and goal from the 2 when they took a page from Fulbright's playbook. They stacked the backfield for what looked like a power surge into the end zone when the quarterback flipped the ball to a speedy tailback who had faked toward the line before breaking toward the right and what appeared to be too few Generals to keep him out of the end zone.