Play by Play

by Verne Lundquist

  Some of what’s on the agenda is completely mundane—the schedule for the next day, how we’re all getting out of town following the game. The highlight of the meeting is Gary giving us his insights, what he expects, based on his knowledge of both teams. What are their strengths? Where does he expect any opening opportunities to occur? Who might, for example, Auburn exploit or Alabama exploit? And that’s usually a half an hour, and Gary does that every week. And then they ask me, “Do you have any particular stories you want to get in, and we’ll try to fit them in.” The director, Steve Milton, makes note of what I’ve come up with and during the game will cue me when appropriate to go to one of those stories. If it is one of those mom-in-the-stands stories, he gets the camera operator on board as well.

  I’m often asked if it is hard to do a telecast with all those other voices in my head. The well-intentioned people who ask that don’t fully understand the process. Yes, the producer, the director, the camera operators, the broadcasters, and nearly everyone else involved in the broadcast are all looped together in the same communications system. That doesn’t mean that we’re all able to hear and to speak with one another simultaneously. The technology allows for only certain communications to go to specific people at any one time. For example, Craig Silver, whom I worked with all seventeen years on the SEC broadcasts, when necessary communicates with Gary while I’m speaking on air. He may ask Gary what he wants to isolate for a particular play and he’ll get the cameras to cover that. He may tell Gary that a ground-level shot is coming up on the replay. When he needs to speak with me, he does it while Gary is offering his commentary. I can’t hear what he’s saying to Gary, and vice versa. So, when Gary is delivering his analysis of a replay, Craig may be telling me that we need to do a promo after the following play if it isn’t of any real significance. If it’s a big play, we go to replay instead of the promo. Yes, I need to listen to what Gary has said about the play and what Craig has said to me, yet nearly everyone I know has the ability to filter and to focus. I hate to disappoint, but it’s not as difficult as it seems. Conversations are taking place all around me, but I can dip into and blank them out with ease. We all do that all the time; I just get paid to do it.

  My radio broadcasts were entirely different in this respect—I had no other communications going on except that between Brad Sham and me. It was similar in that during almost my entire Cowboy radio days, Gary Brandt was my producer. As I’ve pointed out before, continuity builds trust and comfort. As much as we could routinize things, the better. In that regard, we are very much like the athletes we cover. In so many other ways we are not like them at all. I never believed that I could do what they do. Athletes have demonstrated time and time again that they can do what I do, and I think that one of the reasons for that, besides their knowledge of the game, is their ability to focus, develop routines, and execute under pressure.

  One former SEC athlete turned broadcaster whom I admire and respect and has become a friend is Charles Barkley. He absolutely loves Auburn athletics. I’ve done a bunch of Auburn football and basketball games and seen Charles there in the stands or along the sidelines. I would say that 50 percent of the time he would make the trek down. We always saw him at the bar the night before the game. And then if I stayed overnight following the game, especially if they won, I’d see him at the bar the night after the game.

  I’ve heard Charles on the air stating unequivocally that there’s no greater rivalry in sports than Alabama versus Auburn. What I love about Charles is that he’s a passionate sports fan, as so many of the athletes I’ve worked with and covered are, and he’s not afraid (surprise!) to express his opinion about it. His statement is quite something when you consider those who believe that in baseball the Yankees versus the Red Sox or the Chicago Cubs and the St. Louis Cardinals form the rivalry that defines all rivalries. I’ll stop my list there because I know that everyone has their list of the fiercest rivalries in sports. We love to debate that issue. What I found most engaging about Charles’s point is that he’s a fan and in one particular instance decried the fact that Marshall and West Virginia flat-out refuse to schedule one another.

  That intrastate rivalry would be wonderful to see and would generate incredible interest. Why they don’t engage in it is complicated but the bottom line, as Charles pointed out and I agree, is that those games help keep interest alive and in fact grow the sport. He also said that schools not playing those kinds of games cheat the fans. With advertising revenues what they are, it is sometimes easy for networks to forget that the fans are truly the ones whose needs and desires should be served. At the end of the day, we all make our living off their passionate devotion.

  Charles understands that these are athletic contests but also entertainment. As our technological capabilities have advanced, fans have many more options regarding when and to what they will devote their time. I think that is why the NCAA basketball tournament is such a huge draw for so many. To see teams from different conferences mixing it up has huge appeal. Most football programs schedule nonconference games that guarantee wins for the bigger program. The little guys benefit financially and gain some exposure, but the competition is seldom compelling. The rare upsets are wonderful, but it is the conference schedule that really matters. I can’t envision the NCAA conducting a full-scale championship-determining tournament to crown a winner in football. They’ve made strides toward doing that, and that’s a good thing. It helps preserve some of the traditional rivalries. I’m a sports fan, too, and I have fond memories of the bowl games as they once were, with conference champion taking on conference champion. The powers that be have made progress in clarifying as much as possible who will end up the national champion in football, and that’s a good thing, but I sometimes wonder, at what cost?

  One of the benefits of not having a national tournament is that with there being no second season, as the playoffs are often referred to in other sports, what you do during the regular season carries enormous consequences. As I’ve said before, when I’m asked about my most memorable games, the so-called classics, I always choose games that have a direct impact on the ultimate results in the SEC race and for the national championship. Given the SEC’s track record, those two are frequently entwined. A battle that comes to mind that is nearly the opposite of the Tennessee–Florida game is one that the Volunteers waged against the Crimson Tide in 2009.

  Tennessee was down a bit that year under Lane Kiffin. They came into the late October contest at Bryant-Denny Stadium with a record of three wins and three losses. That, plus the fact that Alabama was the consensus No. 1 team in the country and coming off a great 2008 season, meant few expected Alabama to have any trouble toppling Tennessee in this third week in October game. Again, as much as we talked about matchups and tendencies and all the rest, I was eager to let the game unfold and tell the story that it wanted to be told. What it stated was that this was going to be one of those defensive struggles that some find fascinating and others dismiss as boring. It was definitely not the latter.

  Kirby Smart, now the head coach at Georgia, was Nick Saban’s defensive coordinator. He had a talented bunch to work with, including Butkis and Lambert award–winning linebacker Roland McClain. As fast and tough as they come, the All-American McClain epitomized the SEC players’ best qualities. Along with him, defensive lineman Terrence Cody was another anchor of a stout defense that wound up as the second-ranked overall defensive unit in Division I football. Tennessee’s defense finished the season with the 22nd-rated overall defense. Among those they had to contend with was running back Mark Ingram, who was the first Crimson Tide player to win the Heisman Trophy. On the strength of three Leigh Tiffin field goals, Alabama was up, 9–3, at the half. The third period was scoreless, but in the fourth, Tennessee’s Jonathan Crompton hooked up with Denarius Moore on a 31-yard pass play to set up a Daniel Lincoln field goal attempt of 43 yards. Big number 62, Terrence Cody, got a hand on it to block it. The ball wound up in the arms of the holder, who was swarm
ed under, and Alabama took over. They kicked another field goal to make the score 12–3.

  The Vols recovered a Mark Ingram fumble and scored a touchdown with 1:19 left in the game. The extra point pulled them within two at 12–10. I love onside-kick scenarios going all the way back to my days with the Cowboys and their Austrian kicker Toni Fritsch. Most often you know the onside kick is coming, both teams line up for it, and depending upon how that oblong ball bounces, or doesn’t, the future of the game is up for grabs. In this case, Tennessee managed to recover. A couple of Crompton passes, one to Gerald Jones (who earlier caught a touchdown pass) and another to Luke Stocker, set them at the Alabama 28. With four ticks left on the clock, Kiffin sent out his kicker for a 44-yard attempt to take the lead.

  My simple call told the story: “Blocked again! Cody again! Alabama wins!”

  As Nick Saban would say after, “That’s how fragile a season can be.”

  On the depth chart and on our boards, he was listed as Terrence Cody, but everybody in Tuscaloosa referred to him as Mount Cody. At six feet, five inches and 345 pounds, Terrence certainly was a man-mountain. Alabama was in its “max block” mode and unlike the first one, when Cody leaped in the air, he simply overpowered his blocker. Cory Sullins weighed 84 pounds less than Mount Cody and was leveled by the avalanche.

  Replays showed that Mount Cody didn’t even have to leave his feet in order to block his second kick of the game. He pulled off his helmet and ran downfield with his dreadlocks flying behind him looking very much like he was fleeing an avalanche. As we wrapped the game up and then prepared to leave the stadium, it sounded as if no one had left the stadium yet. They chanted their hero’s last name loud and long. After speaking briefly with Tracy Wolfson he made his way toward the tunnel with his left index finger in the air. He understood the moment and in a locker room interview told a reporter, “After I blocked the thing, I knew I was like a big hero.”

  A Florida native and a product of Gulf Coast Community College, Mount Cody was always too big to play in his local Pop Warner league. As a high school freshman, he was already six feet, two inches tall and weighed nearly 300 pounds. He played as a ninth grader but then sat out for the next two years due to poor grades. One of eight kids, according to his high school coach, Cody fell in with the wrong crowd. He righted himself and was able to play again as a senior. As a result of his limited experience, he attended that community college before accepting a scholarship offer at Alabama. Nick Saban personally visited him, telling him how invaluable he would be in the middle of their 3-4 defense. He went on to become a second-round draft pick of the Baltimore Ravens and played for them for three years before ending his career.

  Alabama fans loved him, and one reporter fondly recalled Cody picking him up (the man weighed 275 pounds himself), tossing him on his shoulder, and carrying him into the Alabama locker room. I dislike stereotypes and the jolly fat man is one of those, but by all accounts Terrence was as jovial a presence in the locker room as he was fierce on the playing field. Alabama fans have dubbed his last-second effort “the Rocky Block,” another indication of the bitterness of the SEC rivalries. He’s become another of the legends and I appreciate the fact that I was there to see his efforts in person. In sports we often talk about how the little things made a difference in a game; in the case of Mount Cody it was two big things that clearly made the difference between a win and a loss, producing a profound impact on Bama’s season. The Crimson Tide would go on to their first-ever BCS championship and their thirteenth national championship. They also ran the table, going 14-0.

  Some might wonder how such a low-scoring contest could fit into my best of all-time SEC games. I think it’s pretty clear that the dramatic ending had a lot to do with it. I recall that as the Alabama team celebrated and the Tennessee players looked disconsolate or stunned, we let the pictures tell the story. That’s become a bit of a cliché, but as is the case with other clichés, it has become one because of its essential truth. The first words that Gary Danielson uttered after that long string of images wasn’t the most articulate expression ever. He said, “Wow.” I think his echoing of what a lot of fans were saying and thinking was appropriate and linked him to them. I appreciate and admire that style. There’s always the temptation to go for the profound or the insightful, but I learned that letting the moment sink in, letting the viewers have a chance to just see the events unfold, reproduces to a degree what happens when you’re at the game itself.

  I also know that you won’t please all the viewers, and that’s okay. I do take it personally when I hear criticisms of other commentators. We’re a relatively small bunch and to one degree or another we all know one another. So when a sports fan goes after one of us, I feel like he or she is coming after all of us. I don’t always agree with the approach that my colleagues take but I defend their right to take it. For example, Brent Musburger, one of the biggest figures we’ve had in the profession, would frequently make references related to gambling—even direct mentions of the point spread. I would not do that, but he would. So would another great, Al Michaels. That doesn’t detract from their legacy and consummate skill.

  I’m especially protective of my broadcast partners. They made that job easier by so seldom doing anything that needed defending. Danielson is one of the finest analysts to ever work a college football game, and we were privileged to be on hand to cover so many extraordinary games. I also know that I’ve never done a game in which I didn’t commit some error or two. Fortunately, with all the high-quality games the SEC produced, those bobbles won’t go down in history; the play on the field will.

  The 2011 LSU versus Alabama game, touted as a “Game of the Century” because No. 1 LSU squared off against No. 2 Alabama, ended with a score of 9–6. As one of my top five, this game didn’t feature a lot of offensive production, but because it was of such great consequence for the national title picture and featured so many compelling moments, I find it extremely memorable. Gary and I both scratched our heads when we heard from other people and read about it being boring. The outcome was in doubt until the very end, and for me, that counts for a lot. There are many forms of drama and this battle had great tension.

  It should have come as no surprise to anyone, really, that it was a low-scoring affair. Both teams came into the first week of November with outstanding defenses. Alabama would finish out the season ranked first in total defense, scoring defense, passing defense, and rushing defense. LSU would finish ranked second in those first two categories and not far behind in the others. Gary and I got our first look at Alabama on September 24 when they took on a very good Arkansas team at home. They won, 38–14, to open their SEC conference play. On their first scoring drive, Nick Saban and his staff rolled the dice on a field goal attempt with holder (and quarterback) A. J. McCarron taking the snap and then rising up to throw a 37-yard touchdown pass to Michael Williams. The Crimson Tide broke it open in the third quarter.

  The following week, we were in Gainesville and watched as Saban took on his former assistant Will Muschamp and his Gators. After a tight 10–10 first quarter, Alabama rolled to a 38–10 victory over the No. 12 team in the country. Gary and I were both very impressed with Alabama, especially considering they were coming off what was for them a subpar 2010 season that saw them finish with a 10–3 record and outside the top ten in the final Coaches’ Poll and only No. 16 in the end of the regular season BCS standings. Clearly Alabama had reloaded and matured.

  LSU’s previous season told a similar tale, with an 11–2 record and hovering at or just outside of the top ten in the major polls and standings. With Alabama moving on to play Vanderbilt and Ole Miss, we got our first look at LSU on October 8 in Baton Rogue against Florida. LSU got a lot of people’s attention early in the season. Their opening game, rather than taking on a nonconference creampuff, was against Oregon. The Ducks were coming off an undefeated regular season in 2010 and, at No. 3, were ranked one slot ahead of the Tigers in the preseason polls. They participated in the Co
wboy Classic in Arlington, with LSU coming out on top, 40–27. They held the vaunted Ducks’ running game to fewer than 100 yards. After a breather against Northwestern State, they defeated two ranked teams on the road. Those victories propelled them to the top of the AP poll.

  That afternoon in Gainesville, they dismantled another ranked team, tromping on Florida, 41–11. They then beat Tennessee and Auburn, the previous year’s undefeated BCS national champion, by a combined score of 83–17. For the season, their average margin of victory was 27.5 points. The Tide were even better, mixing in two shutouts; they had beaten their previous 8 opponents by an average of 32.5 points. They had not allowed more than 14 points; LSU had surrendered 48 points in its wins over Oregon and West Virginia, but in their other six games had only given up 54.

  As is so often said, something had to give.

  CBS also had to give. We’d previously shown the Alabama–Florida game in prime time. With so much anticipation about this “Game of the Century,” originally scheduled for a two thirty kickoff, the powers that be made a deal with other networks to get the game moved into prime time. The move would prove to be a wise one, some 20 million viewers tuned in, and the game earned a 11.5 Nielsen rating, the highest non-bowl-game rating the company had since 1989.

  I said earlier in recounting some of my first days onstage and on the air that I never got nervous. People have frequently asked me if I got a case of the jitters before a big game like this one. The answer is no. I feel some of the anticipation that comes from having a great matchup, but after so many games, and doing so much preparation work, I’m too busy focusing and have done this enough times that I come into the game calm.