White Fang and the Golden Bear

by Joe Wessel

  Coach Arnsparger pushed me and gave me opportunities, advice, and often a hard time. He would write down everything in a spiral-bound notebook—a very detail-oriented man. Bill coached from 1950 to 1994, forty-four years of service and leadership to young men and to the game of football.

  We won a Southeastern Conference Championship under Coach Arnsparger in 1986 and earned a spot in the Sugar Bowl against Nebraska.

  To that point, LSU had gone 0–3 in bowl games with Coach Arnsparger at the helm. Going into this game, we were ranked No. 5, and Nebraska came in at No. 6. It was the third time in five seasons that the two teams had met in a bowl game. Nebraska had won all three games.

  Adding to the storyline for that Sugar Bowl, Coach Arnsparger announced after our final game of the regular season against Tulane that he would be leaving LSU to become the athletic director at the University of Florida.

  Sitting next to Coach Arnsparger on the bus before that Sugar Bowl game gave me my favorite memory of him. We talked about life, football, the upcoming game, and our futures—his as the Florida athletic director and mine as a full-time coach. I wished him good luck at Florida. I also told him that I could never root for the Gators.

  We lost that bowl game, 30–15, and Bill moved on but continued to be my mentor and friend.

  LSU selected the defensive coordinator, Mike Archer, to follow Coach Arnsparger as the head coach. Since we had just won LSU’s first SEC championship since 1970, the administration thought the best course of action would be to hire from within the staff to maintain continuity in the program.

  Mike’s leadership skills were far different from Bill’s. Mike was carefree and engaging to everyone. He kept things light and very loose. He had great rapport with his players.

  That’s when I got my first full-time job coaching the inside linebackers. Two years later, I coached the defensive backs. We had winning seasons in Archer’s first two seasons as the head coach, including an SEC championship in 1988.

  Nevertheless, LSU had losing seasons in 1989 and 1990, prompting the school to fire Archer and his staff—including me—with two games to go in the 1990 season. In the coaching business, you’re only as good as your last championship. I became a member of John Gruden’s fictitious club, the FFCA—Fired Football Coaches Association.

  I wanted my parents to hear from me before the news reached Florida. I called Dad and confirmed the rumors. I told him I needed to find a job. Then jokingly I asked him if he needed a partner. Though we both laughed, that wasn’t the last time that we would discuss that possibility.

  During my period of unemployment, I became a “professional” golfer—at least that’s what I teased. Since I still had a contract with LSU that paid me through July of 1991, I played golf every day in Baton Rouge while I looked for my next job. Didn’t that constitute being a professional?

  Following a golf game, fate entered my life at Superior Grill in Baton Rouge on a Thursday night in February of 1991.

  While talking to a friend, I noticed a striking woman as she walked by. Upon her return, she passed us, and I pointed her out to Mike Clegg, my friend who was an LSU booster. Mike said, “You want to meet her?”

  I responded quickly, “You bet.”

  Through Mike’s introduction, we joined the table where she sat along with seven or eight women. We remained at their table the rest of the night.

  I had an instant attraction to Mary Gayle Hamilton.

  After talking at the table, we talked more in her car. I learned that Mary Gayle’s mom had cancer and was not doing well, so she was going through a tough time in her life.

  We went out about a week later, sharing dinner at a bar. The next morning I left beignets, coffee, and flowers at her door, along with a note that explained the beignets and coffee were for her and the flowers were for her mom. She’d said that she couldn’t find the right guy. She didn’t like the way most guys treated girls. She wanted to find a Southern Gentleman. That made the last line of my note easy:

  Chivalry is not dead!

  We began dating regularly while I continued to look for work.

  Since Dad was the singer and the creative one in the family, and Mary Gayle was an interior designer and completely creative, they hit it off immediately when they first met. Two peas in a pod. Dad wasn’t a man of many words, but the wink and the smirk told me he approved. They would always have something special between them.

  At least my personal life appeared to have a future at that point, even if my professional life didn’t seem so promising. I couldn’t find a job. I didn’t have a lot of coaching friends because the LSU job had been my first, and I stayed there six years. My situation caused me to think about whether I should stay in coaching.

  I interviewed with Jackie Sherrill, who had just accepted the head coaching job at Mississippi State, and Bill Belichick, who just became the head coach of the Cleveland Browns. I didn’t get either job, and at this point it was almost May.

  Looking outside the box, I tried everything to find coaching jobs, and I even considered jobs not within the coaching ranks. That prompted me to reach out to Jack Nicklaus.

  I’d always had a good relationship with Jack, so I called him and told him my situation.

  He’d just opened up Golden Bear Sports Management, an endeavor that also included Steve. We talked, and they were interested in hiring me. I felt as though I’d found a perfect fit if I was going to get out of coaching. But my heart told me I wanted to remain on the sideline.

  I also considered going to work with my father. After all, Dad had been a successful businessman and now was on his own as a food broker.

  I wrote to Dad, telling him how I admired what he’d done in the food service business and that if I could learn the business from him, I would look forward to it. Dad considered my proposition but expressed to me his opinion that he thought I might be better served by continuing to chase my dream. His advice reinforced what my heart and gut were telling me to do—stay in coaching.

  The only way at that time to stay in coaching was to volunteer at a top program like USC, Oklahoma, or Notre Dame.

  Notre Dame had hired Gary Darnell to be its defensive coordinator prior to the 1990 season. He’d been the interim head coach at the University of Florida in 1989, and before that the Gators’ defensive coordinator. Bill Arnsparger had been the Florida athletic director, so Gary knew Coach Arnsparger. And via a Coach Arnsparger connection, I got an interview at Notre Dame in May. They offered me the last open volunteer position on head coach Lou Holtz’s staff!

  I talked to Dad about the offer. Being Catholic, both of us had always dreamed about me going to Notre Dame. Keeping emotion out of the conversation, Dad assumed the voice of reason, presenting different considerations regarding the job. An important question for me pertained to how coaching would affect my relationship with Mary Gayle. He definitely could relate to my concern, but he reminded me, as he often did, to keep my priorities in order. Dad also asked me questions about the people I’d be with at Notre Dame. “What’s Coach Holtz like? Who are the other coaches?” Dad wanted to be objective and present some of the possible pitfalls, but deep down we both knew this was an opportunity of a lifetime.

  South Bend became the next stop.

  CHAPTER 16

  Notre Dame

  EMOTIONALLY, I FELT LOW WHEN I left for South Bend. That changed once I arrived on campus in late May when I met with Coach Holtz shortly after spring practice.

  Coach had landed the Notre Dame job prior to the 1986 season, after serving stints around the NFL and college football scene. The Fighting Irish were struggling when he took over the program, but that would change under his watch.

  While Coach Holtz carried a ribbon-thin frame, wore glasses, and had a personality that most found interesting and funny, he insisted on discipline, and he was a taskmaster. Prior to his first season, he stressed the importance of team. Hoping to drive that concept home, he had the names removed from the backs of the players’ jer
seys.

  After posting a 5–6 season his first year in South Bend, Coach Holtz’s Irish improved dramatically, posting a 12–0 record during the 1988 season before defeating West Virginia in the Fiesta Bowl to become National Champions.

  When I sat down with Coach Holtz, he told me, “Look Joe, if you help us this year, I’ll help you get a job next year.”

  That eased my mind.

  After I left Coach Holtz, I went into Gary Darnell’s office. We talked about an hour, then he said, “Let’s get out of here.” Next thing you know, I was at Knollwood Country Club. I’m like, Man this is cool. I walked to the driving range and found Ara Parseghian hitting balls. I introduced myself to the famed former Notre Dame coach and thought about the letter I’d received from Notre Dame back in 1979 that wished me luck but told me I couldn’t go to school there. That became my opening sentence on booster speaking engagements. “I wasn’t smart enough to go to Notre Dame, but I’m smart enough to coach here.”

  I knew I needed to be at Notre Dame. My instincts just told me it would be the right place for me.

  Among the items I’d packed to take with me to South Bend were a bunch of wooden-shafted clubs that Dad had given me. White Fang rested among that collection of clubs and made the trip. I put those clubs on a shelf, never unwrapped them, and never thought about them. In hindsight, it’s amazing I did not get rid of them, because you certainly couldn’t play with those clubs anymore.

  While working as a volunteer at Notre Dame, I collected approximately $200 a week via unemployment. Meanwhile, I buried myself in my work. I think I received more respect for being a volunteer coach than I did for being a graduate assistant in my previous role!

  Meanwhile, my relationship with Mary Gayle grew serious, even though she remained in Baton Rouge. Her mom passed away before I left for South Bend, so that spring she continued working and taking care of the family business.

  My first season at Notre Dame started well for the team. We compiled an 8–1 record with wins over USC, Pitt, Michigan State, and Stanford. Our only loss heading into a game against No. 13 Tennessee came against Michigan in the second week. We felt pretty good hosting the Volunteers in South Bend on November 9, 1991. A lot of people were touting us as potential National Champions.

  Unfortunately, our season began to unravel at that point.

  After taking a 31–14 halftime lead, we had the worst collapse in the second half that I had ever experienced.

  Our All-American punter/kicker, Craig Hentrich, sprained his right knee when Tennessee blocked his field goal attempt with fourteen seconds remaining in the second quarter. That block turned into an eighty-five-yard touchdown return and left the kicking duties up to a sophomore walk-on, Rob Leonard, which proved to be a critical development regarding the game’s outcome.

  Tennessee took their first and only lead of the game with just over four minutes to play. They correctly anticipated a blitz and scored on a twenty-six-yard screen pass, putting them up, 35–34.

  Still, we had a chance to win, starting a drive at our 25 with 3 minutes and 57 seconds left on the clock. The offense came through, driving the ball to the Tennessee nine-yard line. With four seconds remaining, Leonard tried his first career college field goal.

  The kick left his foot and deflected off the backside of one of Tennessee’s charging defenders, causing the ball to miss wide right. We lost, 35–34.

  After the game, Coach Holtz expressed disappointment by saying, “I’ve been in this game a long time. That was as difficult a loss as I’ve been associated with, ever. Ever.”

  Our troubles continued the next week, when we traveled to Happy Valley and lost to Penn State, 35–13.

  We finished the season in Hawaii. Once again, our defense killed us, and the Rainbow Warriors hung 42 points on us. Fortunately, we came away 48–42 winners. Wins are rarely disappointing, but that one didn’t exactly put a bounce in our step.

  That left us at 9–3 on the season, prompting a lot of people to grumble when we accepted a bid to play the University of Florida in the Sugar Bowl. We knew there would be some changes going into the bowl game, as Gary Darnell had been offered a coaching position on John Mackovic’s staff at the University of Texas. Coach Holtz had an unwritten rule: if you got a coaching job elsewhere, you left the staff immediately. Conducting business that way made for fewer distractions for both programs. Thus, Gary left Notre Dame prior to the bowl game, prompting Coach Holtz to move me to coach the inside linebackers against the explosive Gators offense, masterminded by Steve Spurrier.

  Quarterback Shane Matthews led the No. 3 Gators’ potent offense. He’d earned Southeastern Conference Player of the Year honors, and the Gators had posted a 10–1 record in Spurrier’s second season as the head coach at his alma mater.

  I’d been on the LSU sidelines the year before, when we lost, 34–8, to the Gators, so I’d seen firsthand what type of potent attack “The Ole Ball Coach” had put together in Gainesville.

  It was for the level of competition and a number of other reasons that I looked forward to that Sugar Bowl. Being in New Orleans would put me back around many of the friends I’d left seven months earlier. My parents attended the game, which gave Dad a chance to spend time with his two youngest brothers, Bill and David, who lived and worked in New Orleans. Plus, it afforded me the opportunity to spend time with Mary Gayle, who could be a part of the Bowl festivities and spend more time with my parents and some of the coaches’ wives.

  Dad realized I was getting serious with Mary Gayle. I could tell that he really liked being around her. The giveaway came in how he started to tease me and jab at me about her like only he could. He definitely approved.

  Once we arrived in New Orleans, Coach Holtz went out to dinner, where a waiter told him that the Sugar Bowl between the Fighting Irish and the Gators had come to be known as “The Cheerios Bowl.” He explained that “The difference between Cheerios and Notre Dame is that Cheerios belong in a bowl.”

  Coach Holtz didn’t care for the comment even though the waiter had just delivered motivational gold. The motivator in Coach Holtz used the waiter’s slight accordingly.

  As if we needed further motivation, we wore our white jerseys with green lettering that the players really liked.

  Florida moved the ball up and down the field all night. Matthews threw for 511 yards, but when they got into the red zone, we would show four down linemen, but we would drop two and rush two. That threw their timing off and clogged the passing lanes on the shortened field. Seven times they were in the red zone, yet they only scored two touchdowns.

  We trailed, 16–7, at the half. That’s when Coach Holtz challenged the offensive line—who outweighed the Gators by thirty-five pounds a man—to take care of business. He felt as though they could lead the way to a victory, and they proved him correct. We committed to running the ball and keeping the defense off the field. Meanwhile, Jerome Bettis put on display what a force he could be. “The Bus” had incredible athleticism, particularly for someone who weighed 250 pounds. He’s easily the best running back I’d ever been around, and none of my defensive guys ever wanted to tackle him during practices. The Gators didn’t look too thrilled to try and bring him down either as he scored on touchdown runs of three and forty-nine yards to stake us to a 32–22 lead.

  Florida responded with a thirty-six-yard scoring strike from Matthews to Harrison Houston with 2:28 left to make it 32–28. But we put the game out of reach on the following possession, when Bettis ran one in from thirty-nine yards out, making the final score 39–28.

  Ultimately, our offense finished with just 279 total yards—paltry compared to the Gators’ totals, and 141 of those yards came in the fourth quarter. Bettis finished the game with 150 yards rushing and in turn led us to victory.

  During the press conference following the game, Coach Holtz enjoyed the last laugh, not with just the win, but his rebuttal to the waiter, when he responded with his own question: “Do you know the difference between a golf pro and L
ou Holtz?” Answer: “Lou Holtz doesn’t give tips!”

  Coach Holtz could certainly be funny, but when it came to business, he was sincere. As he told me in the locker room after the game, “Don’t you talk to anybody. You’re not going anywhere. You’ve got a job here. Don’t talk to anybody.”

  I didn’t, so I became a paid member of Coach Holtz’s staff, coaching the outside linebackers and special teams.

  Once we capped the ’91 season with that great Sugar Bowl win over the Gators, I had more time to focus on my personal life.

  The opportunity to spend a couple weeks in Louisiana with Mary Gayle encouraged me to think about making our relationship a permanent one. We began talking about the future and what that would look like for us. The next thing I knew, April had rolled around, and we had begun to plan a summer wedding in Baton Rouge and build a new house in Granger, Indiana—yet I still had not formally proposed to her!

  In fact, as the house began to rise out of the ground, and wedding plans were being made, Mary Gayle reminded me of that fact one night while we talked on the phone. She had begun to feel uneasy about our situation. All these plans were going on, and she had no ring and no formal proposal. I am sure her friends were wondering what kind of guy planned a wedding and built a house without a ring and asking for her hand in marriage. I diverted the subject that night and told her not to worry. You see, I had a plan, but it couldn’t be executed until June.

  Back in February, when I made a weekend visit to Baton Rouge, we had gone shopping, and Mary Gayle had expressed that she really liked a ring at Barker’s Antique Jewelry. I played it cool and said let’s keep looking. Little did she know I had the owner send the ring to me. I knew I’d be speaking at a coaches’ clinic in Los Angeles in June, and I wanted her to join me in California, so I could formally ask her to marry me while out there. Nothing like the last minute!