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Tales 'round the Tailgate: The Ultimate College Football Tour

by Stephen J. Koreivo

Three Excerpts from the proposed draft

Culture Shock!

(4) Georgia at (5) Auburn

November 18, 1978

Auburn, AL - “Oneonta?” A short, dark-haired guy curled his lip and scrunched up his nose with a wide grin while squinting at the letters on my T-shirt during a workout out at the Lakeland Hills YMCA near my home in Boonton Township, NJ during the summer of 1978.

“Huh? What are you talking about?” I replied, confused. Charles Murren III pointed to the name of my current college on my bright, yellow t-shirt. How he got “Oneonta” out of J-U-N-I-A-T-A, I don’t know, but it began the start of a long friendship. At least he didn’t pronounce it “Juanita.” Among my collection of ticket stubs is solid evidence of the frequent misperception.  My stub from a game the Indians (now the Eagles) played in Greenvale, New York in 1980, bears the following misprint: “C.W. Post Pioneers versus Juanita.” OK, let’s clear this up right now. Juniata College in Huntingdon, Pennsylvania, is a Division III school nestled in central Pennsylvania, not New Mexico, about thirty miles south of State College. Its football tradition includes a 1956 Tangerine Bowl 6-6 tie with Missouri Valley, alumnus and the longtime NFL coach Chuck Knox, and the first Stagg Bowl game ever played for the Division-3 NCAA championship in Phenix City, AL, where Juniata lost to Wittenberg of Ohio in 1973, 41-3. Juniata is where I ended up after my departure from the Naval Academy in 1976.

 That day in the gym, Charlie was home on summer vacation from Auburn University. Like many North Jersey kids at the time, unless you went to local Montclair State, William Paterson, or Seton Hall, you most likely went out of state in pursuit of higher education. Charlie originally started out at the school of his dreams—Notre Dame. But after a year there, he was out of funds after his father told him he was on his own. As an out-of-state student searching for financial freedom, the best bargains Charlie found were in the state of Alabama. “One thing you can give George Wallace credit for,” he once told me, “is that he kept college tuitions affordable.”

After years of watching Interstate 287 being built behind his home in Montville, NJ, Charlie studied for his degree in Civil Engineering at Auburn.  That first summer we met, we worked out together and hung out at various New Jersey watering holes during a brief period when 18 was the legal drinking age. We had friends and acquaintances who sometimes joined us, but none had our stamina and penchant to go out five or six nights a week. During that summer, we talked about school, women, the future, football, working out, and other important stuff, like my future trip to Auburn for a football weekend.

 Once back at school, “Charlie from Alabama,” as he became known among my Juniata clan, stayed in touch to help plan my first southern fried football weekend. The perfect opportunity presented itself on the weekend before Thanksgiving, 1978. Not only would the Georgia Bulldogs, a traditional Tiger rival, be visiting Auburn, but Juniata was one of the rare schools organized on a trimester schedule; my semester break would begin the weekend before Thanksgiving and last through the holiday weekend. To get to Auburn, I bought a cheap airline ticket for my first-ever flight to Columbus, Georgia. Al Di Vite, one of our cohorts from back in Boonton, NJ, one of the “lightweights” who couldn’t keep up with our partying habits, also flew down for the festivities. After my first flight ever, Charlie and Al had to meet me in Atlanta since my plane missed the connection to Columbus. Believe me, this wouldn’t be the last of my late or delayed Newark flights.

We wasted no time getting to Alabama where Charlie had the whole Auburn cultural experience planned. We bought beer at the local gas station – couldn’t do that in Jersey or Pennsylvania.  Then we got to ride on real, heavy construction equipment at night on a real highway under construction. I assumed this was a pre-requisite for one of his Civil Engineering courses at Auburn – why else would he have the keys?

Later, we ate dinner at the famous Barbeque House on Main Street in Auburn where the cooks rammed long, metal spits through two entire chickens and shoved them into a big, flame-fired, brick oven. Served up on paper plates with handfuls of sliced, dill pickles and six slices of white bread, the combination not only tasted good, it coated our stomachs for the start of our weekend beer-fest, too!   It was the perfect introduction to Southern cooking.

Next day, we glimpsed football traditions and took a tour of the athletic facilities where we watched the AU Tigers getting taped up before Friday’s practice. Charlie pointed out sophomore running back James Brooks. He looked small for what I envisioned as an SEC running back, but eventually we’d see the speed SEC running backs are known for once he stepped on the playing field.

Friday night, we ventured out to Toomer’s Crossing, the intersection of College Street and Magnolia Avenue in Auburn, for the traditional pep rally with the band and cheerleaders where fans gather to fill trees up with unraveled toilet paper. The cheerleaders were hot—we had none of those at Navy, and not too many of that standard at Juniata! After that, we caught up with Charlie’s Auburn pals at a house party.  They thought they’d intimidate me by calling me Yankee.  “Whadya mean?” I replied. “Let’s go Mets!” That confused them. The Braves hadn’t really caught on yet down South. Major League baseball fever hadn’t quite reached central Alabama in those days. This was SEC football country! We had a great time with those guys. We stopped by the War Eagle Supper Club, this great down-home, beat-up bar with bare plywood walls in the middle of the Plain where the Bellamy Brothers of “Let Your Love Flow” fame were appearing. “Big-name” band in a low-down place—ya gotta love it. Charlie had planned the perfect introduction to Auburn for Al and me that weekend. I would be back again many times over the years.

 Charlie had gotten us $2 student tickets for the game, another Auburn good deal. Jordan-Hare Stadium sits smack-dab in the middle of the Auburn University campus. As we walked around, Auburn fans hailed each other with an enthusiastic “War Eagle!” as if wishing one another “Merry Christmas!” We went to sit high in the stands of Jordan-Hare Stadium on the Auburn side at about the twenty yard-line, and boy, did three guys from Jersey stick out like sore thumbs! In the south, a college football game is a happening, a high-class social event as well as a football game. When Southerners attended football games during these pre-Internet days, the guys wore blazers, buttoned-down shirts, and loafers. Gals wore short, stylish dresses with low-cut tops which made for a more picturesque atmosphere than up north, where fans dress to keep out the cold, especially during November and beyond. Aside from battling the climate, you didn’t wear anything expensive up north in case someone spilled beer on you! The three of us wore flannels, jeans, work boots, and ball caps among Auburn students dressed for afternoon tea. Al and I didn’t know this was going to be a semi-formal affair, but Charlie knew the culture and he didn’t care. He was glad to have us along since he knew Al and I would never have thought twice about how to dress for a football game -- we wore standard, northeastern issue beer-drinking clothes.

 Before the game, the Auburn marching band performed “War Eagle!” on the field. Charlie pointed out an acquaintance of his in the band ostensibly playing the tuba.  It turned out the guy didn’t know how to play the tuba at all. The band needed a body to fill out the position in order to make formations on the field. We admired the guy:  what a great way to get to see all the games for free.

Auburn cheerleaders chanted, “Track ‘em Tigers, just like beagles, give ’em hell you War Damn Eagles!” And then there was, “Weagle, Weagle, War Damn Eagle! Kick ’em in the butt big Blue! Hey!” Southerners always seem to like to throw a “damn” in there somewhere, like “damn Yankees!”  Speaking of a damn Yankee, Charlie told the story a few years later about how he tried out for Auburn’s amiable mascot, Aubie the Tiger. In his enthusiasm to stir up the crowd, in typical “Jersey-ese” he yelled, “Come on, ‘you guys!’” He knew he blew his chance to become the next Aubie right away realizing he should have yelled, “Come on, Y’all!”

This turned out to be an emotional game for Auburn. The Tigers and Bulldogs share the longest rivalry in the Southeastern Conference. Except for 1943 during WWII, the two teams have played every year since 1892.  Here in 1978, Auburn entered this game with a 6-3 record while the eighth-ranked 8-1 Bulldogs arrived with the taste of “sugar” in their jowls. A Bulldog win here and a Bama loss to Auburn the following week would mean an SEC championship and a Sugar Bowl bid for UGA! So emotionally-packed was this game for Auburn that Coach Doug Barfield pulled the old jersey switcheroo before taking the field to add a little more impetus for the Tigers. After final preparations in the locker-room, “Big Blue” sprinted back out onto the field in new, bright, orange jerseys before Jordan-Hare Stadium’s record crowd of 64,761! Attending my first Auburn game ever, this wasn’t exactly Notre Dame coming out in green jerseys against USC, but it did make an absolute, enthusiastic impression among the Auburn faithful. The crowd was fired up now, and so were Coach Barfield’s Tigers, War Eagles, Plainsmen, or whatever you wanted to call the Auburn football team that day (later learned that “War Eagle” is only a battle cry) .

 Georgia ‘s Rex Robinson converted two first-half field goals, but Auburn topped that with a 60-yard touchdown run by Joe Cribbs, who set a school rushing record with 250 yards that day. Soon UGA held a 12-7 lead. On the very last play of the first half, AU fullback William Andrews broke off on what looked like a 47-yard TD run. He was in the clear to take it in for a score, but he was caught from behind by speedy, Georgia defensive back Bob Kelly at the one-yard line. Time expired to end the half! That tackle turned out to be a game-saver for the Dawgs.

Joe Cribbs’ second TD of the day on a two-yard run gave Auburn the lead at the end of the third period, 22-15. The defenses held from that point on until Willie McClendon scored for Georgia from the one with 5:18 remaining and cut the score, 22-21. A Georgia victory here would mean at least a share of the SEC championship and the Sugar Bowl. Georgia Coach Vince Dooley took a lot of heat for his decision to kick for a tie rather than by going for two to win. Rex Robinson converted for the tie. Maybe Dooley’s earlier failed attempt to go for two made him think otherwise, but the draw meant he would have to wait another week for Bear Bryant’s 8-1 Tide to hopefully fall to Auburn in Birmingham.   Neither Georgia nor Auburn scored again, and the contest ended in a 22-22 stalemate, the only tie I’d ever see in Division 1-A play. Thanks to overtime rules initiated in 1995 to determine an eventual winner, we’ll never have to see a tie game again. After sixty minutes of rock ‘em, sock ‘em, hard-hitting action with a championship on the line, to finish with no winner and loser is not only anti-climactic, but downright depressing. Neither team gets to celebrate a victory.  Neither team suffers the agony of defeat. What do you do at the post game party? Kiss your sister?  We made the party rounds on campus that night, but nothing memorable happened, probably because the game ended in a tie. Two visiting Jersey boys would experience the ultimate southern culture shock the next morning though.

Charlie took Al and me to James Brown’s Diner in nearby Opelika for the all-you-can-eat southern breakfast. Though they were a hot topic of discussion while we perused the menus, the breakfast grits did not provide the culture shock to which I refer.  This ultimate culture shock struck Al and like a bolt of lightning - despite basking and digesting in the sunshine of the parking lot leaning against Charlie’s old, green, explosive device called a Ford Pinto.  As we waited for Charlie to finish talking with someone in the diner, lo and behold!  From across the parking lot sauntered this beautiful, drop-dead gorgeous, knock-out, strawberry blonde. Wow! And she was walking unabashedly straight towards us. She came right up to us as we bounced up off the beat up Pinto with Garden State plates.  She smiled, and said, “Hey! How y’all doin’?”  She was beautiful! My knees almost buckled.  Al looked like he had just taken a hard left jab to the head from Joe Frazier. When we managed to recover, Al and I exchanged glances that said, “This is something that doesn’t happen back in Jersey.” And forget the “y’all” part. Mystified, still in shock, we were able to make small talk for a few minutes when suddenly this guy, supposedly her boyfriend, shows up and says, “Hey! How y’all doin’? ” Now this definitely NEVER happens back home. There would be cursing and ranting and, eventually, things would turn physical. The situation would have escalated as we probably had no right being approached, let alone talking with such a total “Knock-out” anywhere near her significant other. The guys just smiled and shook our hands.  This was surreal. What planet had we landed on?

On the ride back to Auburn, Al and I sat mute and dazed.  Charlie summed up the situation by deadpanning two simple words: “Holy Rollers.” Now I attended my share of Sunday Masses, but if I ever had the notion to move down South to the Land of Cotton back then, I think it would have been very worthwhile to attend a few prayer meetings. 

I would get to see Auburn on many more occasions to add other teams to my eventual Goal to “see ’em all!” Charlie and his wife Lynda, also an Auburn grad, have four kids now and live north of Atlanta where Charlie has a successful construction and excavation business, C.A. Murren & Sons. He learned well taking those evening courses driving heavy equipment on that Alabama highway.

Low-scoring affairs

(17) Virginia at Rutgers

September 18, 1981

East Rutherford, NJ - I took a date to The Meadowlands to see 2-0 Rutgers host 0-1 Virginia.  In the final period, Virginia had the ball fourth and short at Rutgers’ sixteen.  Head Coach Dick Bestwick decided since his Cavalier defense had been putting the stops to RU all evening, he would put the easy three up on the scoreboard and hope his defense would maintain its stinginess.  Wayne Morrison trotted out onto the field to give his team the lead with a routine 33-yard kick.  Wide right! For the second season in a row, Rutgers’ kicker Alex Falcinelli got his chance to give the Scarlet Knights a late lead after a Morrison miss.  With 3:02 left in the game, his kick sailed through the uprights from thirty-seven yards away.  During the final three minutes, Bestwick’s defense held, but so did Rutgers. Funny thing was both offenses had been equally ineffective during the first fifty-seven minutes of the game.  When the game ended, it was the lowest scoring affair I would ever witness during my thirty years watching intercollegiate play.

Final score: Rutgers 3, Virginia 0.

          Final score of my date:  Shut out! I was Virginia that night in a low scoring affair.

Rose-colored Frog

Penn State vs. (46) Oregon

January 2, 1995

Pasadena, CA – My prophetic words to Jim Lewis to go to California to see the Rose Bowl with him became reality in 1995 after Penn State defeated Michigan and Ohio State to win the Big Ten to get invited to play in the Rose Bowl in 1994.  In 1993, Jim, who I’d known since second-grade CCD classes under the close supervision of his sister, Linda, who to this day still grills me on the Ten Commandments when she sees me, moved from New York to beautiful downtown Burbank, California. Jim wrote for Henson Productions, creators of the Muppets. Of course, one of my first thoughts on hearing my friend’s great employment news was, “Jim, now that Penn State’s in the Big Ten, if they beat Michigan and Ohio State during the same year, get ready because we’re coming out for the Rose Bowl!” Sure, I was somewhat happy for Jimmy, but I also thought about my PAC-10 possibilities!

When my words became reality in 1994, he said, “If you’re still serious, let me know. I may have a connection.” Would I be any more serious? The next long distance conversation went like this:

“I’ll make a call, but how many tickets do we need?” Jim asked.

“Well, there’s you, and me, and I know John Massimilla will definitely go. Laurie says she’s not interested in the game, of course, but says that she’s always wanted to go to the Rose Bowl Parade.”

 “I’ll ask if we can get tickets for that, too. How many?”

 “Well, you and Judy, me and Laurie, Alex, John, maybe Kelle…” Jim decided to ask for eight.

 “I can’t promise you anything. I’ll probably call you back next week.”

 We had our second conversation the very next day! Jim’s voice exuded excitement as he told me about the conversation he had just had.

 “I called this guy and I told him that some Penn State friends of mine were interested to come out for the game, and I’d like to see if we can possibly get any tickets?”

 “Sure! How many would you like?” responded Jimmy’s contact.

 “Three.”

 “How’s the fifty-yard line halfway up?”

 “Great! How much do you want for them?”

 “Don’t worry about that. You and your friends will come as my guests. Would you like seats for the parade as well?”

 Wow! This was bigger than the time a few of us as14-year olds went to Madison Square Garden and were told by an usher to give him a buck and go to gate 105 and ask for “Ike”. We felt like big shots to sit a few rows up from the court at an NIT opening round game! Jimmy couldn’t have come up with a better contact. W.H. “Bud” Griest happened to be the Vice Chairman of the Tournament of Roses Committee that year. The following year, Bud would be Chairman. The Chairman gets to select the Grand Marshal for his parade.   The only consideration that we needed to make for the tickets was not to divulge who Bud’s Grand Marshal would be in 1996 Tournament of Roses. The secret was safe with me and I never let the cat, or I can now say frog, out of the bag. Kermit the Frog was Bud’s choice as Grand Marshal!  My ol’ Boonton pal Jimmy was artistically responsible for “Kermie” at that time. So thanks to the green frog, I saw the green and gold Ducks play for the first time - and in the Rose Bowl to boot!

The fabulous Rose Parade came first. We enjoyed reserved parking spaces and reserved bleacher seats below the television cameras. The PSU and Oregon bands came along to cheers from their respective fans. Horse units, US Marines, Morris Brown University, and other marching bands were great, but I have to admit that I found myself very amazed seeing the floats in person for the first time! It was quite different compared to watching all those red fire engines back home at the annual Boonton Labor Day Parade. I know it struck a chord with my little daughter, as for a very long time Alex would remember the event as “bears and flowers.”

After the parade and a short drive to the stadium, we enjoyed a great, buffet lunch under a huge bubble in the parking lot with as guests of Big Ten and PAC 10 officials and Grand Marshal Chi-Chi Rodriguez, the golfing legend. Saint Laurie, Jim’s wife Judy, and Alex left after lunch, not that they had any interest in watching a football game to begin with, but Laurie and Judy were both awaiting arrivals of baby boys in the spring.  Jimmy, John, and I headed to the Rose Bowl to meet Bud at our seats. There we presented him with a Penn State sweatshirt as a token of our appreciation. He graciously accepted, but for obvious reasons did not put it on to maintain his neutrality. We couldn’t put him on the spot, but we hoped that he’d wear it eventually.

        The 81^st edition of the oldest bowl game in history started off with an explosion! Penn State RB Ki-Jana Carter broke a tackle at the line of scrimmage and raced 83 yards for a touchdown. Things couldn’t get started any better than that for the disrespected Lions who led the nation offensively with 47.8 points and 526.2 yards per game. When Carter scored again in the second half, John, Jimmy, and I celebrated among the Rose Bowl attendees sitting in our “neutral” section.  Locals, mostly USC fans, turned to look at us to wonder why anybody in their section was cheering. We cheered for the Lions!

Penn State went on to defeat the “Quack Attack”, 38-20, to finish the season 12-0, the fifth undefeated season ever in Coach Paterno’s illustrious career. Ki-Jana Carter tied a Rose Bowl record with three rushing TDs for the Lions among his 156 yards on 21 carries, but he shared MVP game honors with Oregon QB Danny O’Neill who riddled Penn State’s defense completing 41 of 61 passes for 456 yards and two TD passes.  He shattered 13 Rose Bowl game records. PSU’s win set off controversy though as undefeated PSU finally let loose on the media charging that they were as deserving of the national championship as was Nebraska.  Their arguments exposed the weakness of a national championship determined along television network alignments and bowl coalition ties with which the Rose Bowl was not affiliated.  Despite the arguments, Nebraska was crowned as national champs even though two undefeated teams remained standing at the end of the 1994-95 season.  Even Cornhusker Head Coach Tom Osborne stated succinctly, “People in college football ought to be smart enough to get the No. 1 and No. 2 teams together.”  Powers-that-be formed Bowl Championship Series which isn’t exactly perfect, but it’s better than deciding with secret ballots!

Little did I know at the time that I had watched that game with a celebrity.  My buddy Jim Lewis won an Emmy award in 1998 for Outstanding Children’s Programming for his work on Muppets Tonight. He was nominated again in 2003 for Kermit’s Swamp Years.

      From a personal perspective, this Rose Bowl experience was the opportunity of a lifetime—first-class all the way! We couldn’t thank Bud enough for his great hospitality, and before we parted at the end of the post-game celebration, he told us, “The next time Penn State plays in the Rose Bowl, you guys are invited back any time.”

     Regretfully, the Lions have not returned since, but I left Bud with this thought, “Bud, no matter who’s playing, I’ll be glad to come back any time!” A year later, Kermit the Frog presided over Northwestern’s first trip to Pasadena since 1949 to face the nearby Trojans of USC. If I ever do get back there, I’m sure it will never top the experience enjoyed on January 2, 1995. I got to see Team No. 46, the Ducks from the University of Oregon, thanks to my acquaintance with Kermit the Frog.

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