My Favorite season is around the corner.

Anybody who really knows me knows I am an absolute football fanatic. All forms. Pee-wees to the pros. Particularly, I am passionate about high school and college football. That is why this time of the year my attitude usually changes. Instead of worrying about the heat, the rain or lack of it, how the tomatoes are producing, the local political scene, the national political fiasco or the price of gas, I begin thinking about my trips to Charlottesville, Lexington, Clifton, and local venues such as Cecil Dees Field, Rice Mountjoy Stadium, Gilligan Stadium, Newport Stadium, etc. I begin thinking about seeing old friends, about tailgating, about what new concoction so and so will bring Saturday. I think about how pretty Julie Dammert’s tailgate table will look at the UK – U of L game. What else can you mix with cheap bourbon? Post-game receptions in the Virginia Football Alumni room inside Scott Stadium. Going to the Greyhound Tavern for onion rings and a beer after football Friday night and watching the scores on the TV.

This stuff gets me pumped. It has ever since I was a little boy. Going to the Lloyd games and playing touch football in the end zones with my buddies using a paper cup as the ball. Going with my dad to Covington to watch his Holmes Bulldogs play. "Big Daddy" Tom Ellis. Watching my neighborhood hero, Joe Ashley, walk up Erlanger Road to the game he was about the play in wearing his Lloyd jersey –#71. That became my number. Steve Davis took it from me when I moved on. When I was coaching, one of my prize pupils, Hilliard Vance, was proud to wear it. I always look to see who's wearing the blue and gold number 71 because a little of it belongs to me, always will, and it should be worn with pride and dignity.

I participated in the Lloyd football program for six years as a player, three years on the freshman team in three years as a varsity starter. I was chosen to play in the KY East-West All Star Game at WKU in 1970.  Years later I was privileged to become a paraprofessional assistant coach at the request of Rudy Tassini and then Roy Lucas Jr. I coached young Juggernauts for 15 years. I was a member of the COOL society (coaches of offensive lineman), also known as the mushroom club, because the rest of the coaches keep us in the dark and feed us manure. When I was warming my lineman up for home games I frequently reminded them and motivated them by telling that they were playing on what I consider to be ‘hallowed ground. ‘ That very dirt underneath the grass contained bits and pieces of my blood, my sweat, my tears, and those same components from every Juggernaut that ever played there. I told them that they had to respect the game, respect the uniform that they wore, respect their opponent, respect their family, and realize how privileged they were to be spending a Friday night with their brothers doing something they'll remember the rest of their lives. Other kids were wandering around the stands trying to be cool or sitting at home playing video games. My boys, on the other hand, had worked for this very moment since the last season ended in the weight room, running the streets and on the track, practicing 2 to 3 hours a day, at least, for as long as the state would permit, and were focused on victory. In my book, only one form of victory is evidenced by the scoreboard. Other wins and losses occur on every snap, every rep in practice, every day in the classroom, every time they encounter another human and treat them with kindness, etc. That's what I and the other coaches I was privileged to work with tried to instill in our boys. Victory comes in many forms.

I began officiating football in 1973 when my college career ended (by my choice) and I continued with this through intramurals, Pee-wee, JV and freshman high school, varsity high school and even a couple college JV games. I had hoped to get into officiating college football but then some neurological condition got in the way and, over time, running, then walking, became problematic. When I got the chance to coach, I jumped at it. By the end of my 15 years, I was coaching from a golf cart.

I enjoyed coaching high school football more than I have enjoyed anything in my life other than my children and my family. If I won the lottery today and didn't have to worry about paying bills, I would find some way and somewhere to coach football and smile all the time.

I love college football, too. I have season tickets to the Virginia Cavaliers home games, and to the Kentucky Wildcats home games. I catch a game or two at Nippert Stadium for the Cincinnati Bearcats every year. This fall I am going to Bloomington for a game to watch Virginia play Indiana. I have been to bowl games (Peach (3x), Sugar, Gator, Citrus) in when I was a child, my family went to Champaign – Urbana for Illinois Fighting Illini games as my uncle was a professor there. I played in games at, of course, Scott Stadium in Charlottesville, Lane Stadium in Blacksburg, home of the Hokies, at UNC, at VM I, have been to Tiger Stadium at Clemson, Byrd Stadium at Maryland, Wade Stadium at Duke, Neyland Stadium in Knoxville, Vaught-Hemingway Stadium at Ole Miss, between the hedges at Sanford Stadium in Athens, Georgia, Beaver Stadium at Penn State and the Horseshoe in Columbus.

I love the pageantry. I love the colors. I love to see what kind of uniforms teams are wearing and whether or not they are cutting edge, traditional, or boring. I love college bands. I make sure that I'm in my seat in time for the Virginia Cavalier marching band to form the Power-V and march right toward my seats, in time to watch the Wildcat Marching Band form the block K and play ‘On, On, U of K’, and tear up when it plays ‘My Old Kentucky Home.’ I love to watch the Cincinnati Bearcats band run down the stadium steps after the cannon fires, form up on the field, and head toward the 50, expanding as it marches. I am not, admittedly, an Ohio State fan (far from it) but I am a fan of ‘the best damn band in the land’ and ‘Script Ohio.’  The Ole Miss Pride of the South marching onto the field with their fight song and, after a trumpet flourish, breaking into ‘Dixie.’  I love to look at what the fans are wearing – and some of it is downright crazy. I love ESPN's ‘Game Day’, but often have to record it because I am gone to a Stadium by that time. What mascot head is Lee Corso going to put on this week?

Next weekend college athletes will be assembling on campuses from coast-to-coast to prepare for the Labor Day weekend kickoff of college football season. These athletes have been working all summer (actually since the end of last season) on strength and conditioning so when they begin practice, it's all about football and not about getting in shape. If they come to practice out of shape they typically do not see the field on Saturday. High school athletes have been at it all summer, and, except for Kentucky's dead period around the Fourth of July, practice regularly. There have been 7 on 7 competitions (without linemen) . Many practices had been moved to the break of dawn for the safety of the athletes in this heat we have been experiencing lately. The first high school scrimmages will probably start next weekend and I believe the first games of which I am aware are on August 19. It's almost here . . . . .

Football is the greatest game ever devised for young men. Almost any person who has the desire can compete in football and learn and grow as a person from the experience. Football has much more to do with life than X's and O's and the final score. We learn more and more about injuries, and develop equipment and techniques to prevent injuries. Things that I was taught to do in the 60s are now completely illegal in the game is better for it. The athletes are bigger and stronger, the off season conditioning is intense and comprehensive, and the coaching gets better and better every year, even down to the youth league level. There are exceptions and dramatic examples of things going wrong but that happens in every form of life and typically draws media attention because it is so out of the ordinary. I have watched young men who seemingly did not have an athletic bone in their body nor a good idea of how to put a helmet on, with time, effort and instruction, become outstanding young men, leaders in their community, husbands and fathers, and darn good football players. And when I say effort, I mean lots of it because nothing like this happens without being invested in the process. And when the effort is put forth, it is owned and can be called on time and time again.

This stuff gets me pumped. At my age and condition, its good that something does. My view these days is from the seat of an electric scooter, from the end zone where I can watch the line play, and through rose colored glasses. Memories. Nostalgia. Plastic cups filled with ice and whatever. Optimism, realism, hope, tough losses, exciting wins, great times with great friends at great venues watching great football. Caroline and Camden riding on my scooter with me from our parking lot, through the tailgaters, to the Football Alumni entrance at Scott Stadium. Meeting up with Jessica and friends in the blue lot outside of Commonwealth Stadium.

I can't wait!