Most of us have a story about encounters with Alabama football players and coaches. If you are a fan of college football to the degree that many Alabama fans are, you treat football players like celebrities. You know what they look like, you follow them around and on occasion, you can be spotted hollering their name out from across a crowded restaurant. Some of those moments change our lives, some of them disappoint and some of them are just awkward.
Football players are real people and nothing can upset you more than a real person. I’ve heard stories of rude players refusing to give children autographs. I’ve heard of them plain out ignoring people. Most of the stories, however, are fun. I’ve seen many football players around town because I live in Tuscaloosa but I rarely speak to them.
I used to go to church with Glen Coffee. He’s the only football (other than Gene Newberry who played backup in the 80s) I’ve ever known and had consistent conversations with. I don’t talk to him now but you can bet that I told every football fan I knew that we were on a first-name basis, and that he helped me move out of my apartment during his last year at Alabama.
I also had Women’s Studies with Javier Arenas. Yes, Women’s Studies. It’s a good thing he was a stellar football player because Women’s Studies wasn’t his forté. It was pretty cool having him in class though, and watch everyone pretend they weren’t infatuated.
My father was at the FloraBama one night and he saw Kenny Stabler. The Snake is his hero, and Dad is the least shy person I know. He slid right down the bar to talk to him all night long. My Dad recounts it as one of the best nights of his life.
Those are just some examples. Here’s another:
I had the pleasure of being a designated driver for some friends this weekend. They were going to a club in Birmingham and had a VIP section. Next to the one we were in, there was one marked Andre Smith. I gasped, looked around to see if anyone else noticed and then immediately began looking for him. My friends were preoccupied, but the moment I saw his name, I only had two goals: meet Andre Smith, and make him my best friend. Only one of those things happened.
Around 1am, I saw him stroll in. My eyes got wide and I immediately started a plan of action. Before I could say anything, he started creating a large barrier between the two VIP sections; he wanted no part of us.
This did not deter me. My father would’ve been devastated if I didn’t say anything. Finally, while he was distracted, I took my index finger, craned my neck to look up at him and very meekly said, “I’m sorry we keep bothering you.”
“You alright,” was his response. He was just about to turn around when I said, with a louder voice this time, “You were one of my favorite football players!”
“Oh really, cool,” he said with a bit of a furrowed brow. I shook his hand and then he patted my back as if I needed to be locked in a padded room. Since he clearly thought I was crazy and he touched my back, I took the opportunity to hug him. I buried my head into the nook of his arm and patted his back in return. He gave me a sympathetic smile and then I scurried off. Since I had already embarrassed myself and he was with friends, I didn’t want to ask for a picture, so, as you can see, I did the best I could.
I am a football nerd and I will remember that moment forever. What are some of your favorite encounters with your football heroes?