Last year Pop was honored up at Auburn as what they call their Game Day Hero. (It’s a program that local Ford dealers sponsor to recognize veterans who are selected through a vetting process by the university.) Now, number one, Pop would be the first to tell you that he’s no hero. He reckons that’s a vastly overused word these days that has watered down to the point that even a grocery store cashier who continued to work during 2020 (the Covid year) was a hero.
But he’s a hero to me and the Missus ‘cause we’ve seen some of his Marine decorations that have these little Vs on ‘em. Even I’m smart enough to know that stands for valor.
But Pop ain’t havin’ none of it. He even thought the whole Game Day Hero thing was a joke somebody was playin’ on him ‘till he found out it wasn’t. He still doesn’t know who nominated him (the Missus swears she didn’t) but he’s suspicious that it was a teammate.
Anyway, Pop said they treated him and the Missus like royalty when they went up for the Oklahoma game. He got to visit with the head football coach for a jiffy and then was presented a game ball on the field by the Auburn president’s wife. They even flashed some old pictures of him up on the stadium’s gigantic jumbotron. He said that was the first and only time he’d gotten individual recognition as a former player or alum and it really touched his heart.
Pop was kinda different as a football player. First off, he didn’t play high school football – just pee wee league back in the day. Since he’d started playin’ the drums back in 4th grade and kept on with band throughout junior high and high school, he was limited as to athletic pursuits. So, he ran track and played baseball instead.
When the time came for college, he had every intention of majoring in music and being in the band there, too. That didn’t pan out though (how is a whole ‘nother story) and he ended up being a football player after all.
Pop told about it some when he wrote Mighty Hands, the memoirs he penned for his kids years ago. He didn’t elaborate on it but Pop’s story kinda resembles that of another fella who played college football around the same time. His name is Rudy.
They made a movie about him in 1993. He’s about six years old than Pop but their timelines in college run parallel. After Rudy graduated from high school he did a four year stint in the Navy before he came back and went to a small college for a couple of years. He was eventually accepted at Notre Dame where he was a football walk-on in 1974. That was Pop’s junior year, too.
The way Rudy’s story goes is that he practiced with the scout team for two years and finally got to dress and play a few downs in the last home game of his senior season. He was honored by being carried off the field by his teammates at the end of the game.
Rudy quit the team briefly but Pop never did. Pop said one of the things they shared in common was at least one coach who believed in them. Pop remembered being so beat up after one particularly brutal freshman practice that he could hardly wiggle. That coincided with having to work at Mr. Bailey’s gas station and also having a paper due so Pop skipped practice the next day. The day after that, Pop found his locker had been cleared out at the direction of his position coach. Pop went to see the defensive coordinator, Coach Paul Davis, and pled his case. Coach Davis had pity and reinstated him forthwith.
The way Pop and Rudy’s stories diverge is that, despite never being given a scholarship, Pop stuck it out as a walk-on for four years. (Rudy walked-on for two.) Only one other of Pop’s teammates did that, an offensive lineman who’s name, sadly, escapes Pop. Also, Pop made it as far as third team on the depth chart which got him limited playing time on special teams. Even though he had another year of eligibility, Pop elected to go ahead and graduate with the satisfaction that he had been part of Coach Shug Jordan’s last senior class.
At the conclusion of that season in 1975, Coach Jordan’s secretary, Ms. Emily Foster, summoned Pop to his office to have a chat as he did with the other seniors. He gave Pop a football as a keepsake (unlike the gameday presentations they do on the field these days). Pop cherishes that Spalding J5V more than gold.
During the meeting, Coach Jordan told Pop that he had lettered, too. And that, Pop said, meant more to him than earning his degree.
Rudy went on to parlay his notoriety from the movie as a “motivational speaker.” Pop followed the example set by his mentor, Coach Jordan, and joined the military where, likewise, he finished up as a major.
Rudy became famous. Pop didn’t. But Pop says he wouldn’t trade helmets with him for anything.