| 10 February 2011
As a college freshman in fall, 1994 (I'm dating myself here, I know) at the University of Louisville I decided to take flag football to fulfill a Phy Ed requirement and get a little boost to the early GPA. Our instructor decided it would add to the real college campus experience feel by having our 'practices' in the grass oval in the front of the administration building at the front end of campus, nestled between the law school buildings. A lot of times the administration wasn't crazy having their budget meetings interrupted by the whistle and a lot of times we'd show up to 'practice' to discover the sprinklers in full swing, where after we'd have to trudge across campus to the outdoor track and field facility, next to the railroad tracks. So needless to say it was an enjoyable session whenever we had the grass oval all to ourselves for an uninterrupted practice. It felt like college should feel. And in early fall it was really beautiful.
During one particular practice we were right in the middle of running various routes, etc., we had been at it for a good half hour and were thoroughly enjoying the fall afternoon when the old wooden doors to the administration building creaked open. Don't think for a single moment that we didn't notice the mature gentleman, in full suit, coat and tie on a hot early afternoon coming down the steps and making a beeline for our little practice. It was none other than then-head coach Howard Schnellenberger...and he had his pipe in hand.
"HUDDLE UP!!!!" echoed between the law school buildings, like only a grizzled coach could yell. We didn't waste any time huddling up around the coach. Let me tell you, when we got in the huddle...the man was just larger than life. He exuded an air of authority. He was still a very popular figure and we couldn't believe he was huddling us. Nobody said a word. We just knelt around him, sort of giddy and waiting for what would happen next.
"Texas 32 post, inside slant short 28, red 18 baker, on two!!!"...he pointed to each of us with his pipe as he read out the routes and the play.
Well not a damned one of us knew what Texas 32 or red 18 baker meant, but when our QB called "HIKE HIKE" we all ran like hell out into the field, feigning our best to be actual receivers at a real UofL football practice. Maybe a little nerves, a little inexperience, and a lot of lack of athleticism and our pudgy QB's pass went long and landed harmlessly on the oval grass.
"I CALLED TEXAS 32 POST, NOOOOT TEXAS 32 FLAG!!!!!!!" the old coach bellowed as certainly he had done a thousand times before in real practice during his illustrious career.
At this point we could hide the smiles no longer and neither could he. He had accomplished his mission. He had taken five minutes out of his day to give us something to remember. Only five minutes, but it was really cool.
As he headed back up the stairs to the old admin building, with his back towards us he left us with one closing comment...
"I'll be watching from my office! Get it right or you WON'T see the field on Saturday!!!!"
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