"The 'rawness' of Fulmer's dismissal..."

I read with interest this morning a story by featured columnist Brad Shepard on the website Bleacher Report.

In it, he says that Tennessee football coach Butch Jones has welcomed back former UT coach Phillip Fulmer, who attended his first practice since being forced out in 2008. Fulmer also addressed the team at Jones' request.

In the article, Shepard writes, "Now, enough time has passed for the rawness of Fulmer's dismissal to heal."

The rawness of Fulmer's dismissal

Interesting phrase.

My memory goes back further than the mid-to-late 1990s.

I remember Coach George "Bad News" Cafego receiving a used van (one the women's basketball team took to away games), given to him as a gift on George Cafego Day (Sept. 6, 1980) at the Georgia game. Those who know say that Coach Cafego -- a heck of a player in his day -- returned the van, never said a word, but was deeply hurt.

I recall Ray Mears being denied entrance into the Ray Mears Room at Thompson-Boling Arena. I know that, for some strange reason, Ray Mears Boulevard isn't located on campus.

 I recall a press conference in Memphis on Friday, Nov. 13, 1992.

And I also recall the words of Mrs. John Elizabeth Bobo Majors:

"I've given one son to Tennessee. Now, I've given another."

Bear and John

My uncle Jeff Newgent took this photo of Paul William "Bear" Bryant and John Terrill Majors before the 1980 Tennessee/Alabama game at Neyland Stadium in Knoxville.

This was back when men were men and plaid was plaid. (And, yep, I'd wear those pants if I could find a pair.)

P.S. Tennessee lost to No. 1-ranked Alabama 27-0.

The *real* University of Tennessee fight song(s)

Happy New Year, college football fans!

Yes, it's the first Saturday of the season, which for most of us means happiness AND heartbreak are just around the bend.

But, the year is young, so let's be optimistic and, as someone who attended and graduated (summa cum laude, baby!) from the University of Tennessee, let me say "Go Big Orange!"

Best of luck to Coach Butch Jones as he leads the Volunteers through the T today and all season. It's going to be a bumpy ride, maybe for awhile, but nobody wants to see Rocky Top glow again more than I.

Above, you will see a photo of Butch listening to my all-time favorite UT coach, John Majors, who is no doubt telling him to stress the kicking game, special teams, and most importantly, to "Attack, attack, attack! Always attack!"

And, for all you young 'uns out there, especially those who insist on inserting that obnoxious "woo" into "Rocky Top," here is the *real* UT fight song(s).

Go Vols, and wherever you are, may your team enjoy a great year, unless you're playing Tennessee or unless you are Vanderbilt on any given week.

Meeting Lee and Bill and other fun tales

So, I met "The Six Million Dollar Man" and "The Greatest American Hero" in the same day. I can now die a happy man.

You have to understand that I have been a Lee Majors fan since childhood. He was Col. Steve Austin. AND Colt "The Fall Guy" Seivers. AND Heath on "The Big Valley." AND Roy Tate on "The Men from Shiloh" (aka "The Virginian").

AND he grew up admiring former Tennessee football player and (later) coach John Majors, who is another favorite. Lee had changed his last name from Yeary to Majors in honor of his hero when he became an actor.

Class act, couldn't have been nicer.

I showed him my 1977 booklet "Majors of Tennessee," distributed by The Tennessean when John Majors returned to UT that year. On one page, Lee Majors is shown (sporting a Pitt jacket) on the sidelines during the '76 Pitt/Penn State game.

He perked up when he saw the book. And he thumbed through it, remembering when he attended the Pitt national championship game.

I got so caught up in the moment, I almost forgot to pay for his autograph. He joked, "(You'd better), or else I'm keeping that!", pointing to the book. 

When I was a boy, Lee Majors and his then-wife Farrah Fawcett knew a couple who lived in Emory Estates in Halls. They'd sometimes visit. During the mid '80s, my dad and I would watch "The Fall Guy" on Wednesday nights together. I still have the "Fall Guy" lunchbox I carried throughout elementary school.

I've been waiting 35 years to meet Lee Majors. That moment happened today at the FanBoy Expo at the Jacob Building.

Also appearing at the event was William "The Greatest American Hero" Katt. I LOVED this show when I was a kid. I can remember watching it on Friday nights during the final months of its original ABC run.
When the FX cable network debuted in 1994, "The Greatest American Hero" was part of its original lineup. Dean Harned and I held a viewing party at his house. When the DVDs were released in 2005, I hunted all over Knoxville for a copy of Season 1.

Bill Katt was kind, gracious, unpretentious and serious in the good sense of the word. He confirmed that show creator Stephen J. Cannell fought the network to try to keep it fun but serious. He, Katt and co-star Robert Culp wanted the show to deal with humanistic and existential themes amid Ralph crashing into buildings, best evidenced in the first season episode "The Best Desk Scenario." The network wanted the show to be cartoonish and feature episodes in which Ralph saves the world week after week.  Tragically, Cannell's son died unexpectedly that year. Katt says some of the fight went out of Steve Cannell.

"That's when you started seeing lizards crawling out of the sewer," Katt said. "Steve Cannell came up and personally apologized to me for that. I think if (the change) hadn't happened, the show would have had a longer run."

(If the name Stephen J. Cannell doesn't at first ring a bell, perhaps this will jog your memory.)

He told us that NBC offered him a guaranteed two-year contract at double his ABC salary in the mid-1980s to revive the show after it became a hit in syndication. He turned it down, he said, shaking his head.

Katt says he performs in at least one stage play a year and would make a living doing it if he didn't have to relocate from Los Angeles to New York. His mother, by the way, is Barbara Hale, best known for playing Della Street on "Perry Mason." She's doing well at age 94, he says.

I have a migraine tonight, but that matters not. Today was a day to be a kid again. I took home three autographs (two from Katt) and a lifetime of memories.

Nobody did it better...

RIP, Marvin Hamlisch.

Conductor. Composer. Creator of some of the best music of our lives.

"Nobody Does It Better," from the 1977 James Bond film "The Spy Who Loved Me."

"A Chorus Line."

Adapting Joplin's music for "The Sting."

(Even the score for "The Six Million Dollar Man/Bionic Woman" 1987 reunion TV movie.)

And, of course, "The Way We Were."

Believe it or not, I have never seen that film. I've had my issue with Babs over the years, but I love the song. Particularly its melody.

Hamlisch conducted some of the most renowned orchestras in the country, including the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra, of which former Tennessee football coach Johnny Majors was a longtime booster. I catch their concerts from time to time on WUOT-FM.

Hamlisch leaves behind an impressive body of work, songs we'll never forget, misty water-colored memories of the way we were.

For those who still love No. 45

I make no secret at this blog or anywhere else that I'm an unabashed fan of Johnny Majors.

When I was a kid, Coach Majors was Tennessee football. He was a single-wing star in the mid-1950s, won a national championship at Pitt in '76 and came marching back home to Rocky Top in 1977. It took awhile, but Majors brought UT football back to national prominence.

1992 was a year that broke my heart. First, longtime trainer and Majors friend Tim Kerin died. Then, Coach Majors underwent heart surgery. When he returned to the helm, Tennessee lost three SEC games in a row.

In a move that has left a bad taste in the mouths of some of us ever since, Majors was forced out. The announcement came on Friday the 13th at a hotel in Memphis. Johnny Majors, Tennessee's favorite son, was kicked out the door.

Today, I found this video, in which Coach Majors, who again lives in Knoxville, talks about coming to play at Tennessee from his home in Lynchburg. This is one of the best clips I've ever seen.

For those who remember, for those who still love No. 45 and the old-school coach in the coat and tie, this one's for you.

'What about the shillelagh?'

My friend J.M. called last night to tell me that one of my all-time favorite people, former UT football coach Johnny Majors, was on "SportsTalk" on AM 990 helping predict the winners of this year's bowl games (with David Keith!).

I chuckled when Majors picked North Carolina State to lose its bowl game, saying: "NC State's been kind of a yo-yo team all year."

For some reason, it made me think of one of the more bizarre and hilarious moments from his final "Johnny Majors Show" with John Ward in 1992. Near the end of the program, Majors had been quite serious, thanking a tearful Ward and others. And then, out of nowhere, he says what sounds like, "What about the shillelagh?" (pronounced "shil-lay-lee") and throws his pen.

Ward starts laughing and says something like, "Never again!"

I have no idea what Majors was talking about.

A shillelagh is an Irish cudgel or club, traditionally made of blackthorn or oak. Well, that doesn't tell me anything.

J.M. says he remembers the winner of some football game getting a "shillelagh trophy." That's exchanged by the winner of the Notre Dame/Purdue football game each year.

Sounds more plausible, but if that's the reference, I have no idea why Majors would bring it up during such a serious moment or why Ward then said, "Never again!"

Must have been an inside joke.

At least I had the weekend...

It's easy to make it through a rainy Monday when you've got such a great life.

Friday night found me on Norris Lake, eating shrimp and watching baseball. The rain ran us inside, but that was OK. The Yankees beat the Twins. Boston lost.

Listened to Marvin West, the sportswriter with no equal, tell tales. Good ones, too. Like the time John Majors kept calling his hotel room in Lexington. John was angry because Marvin found out about a coaching change and put it in the paper before the coach had told the assistant. Oops.

Marvin said Majors called him back about seven times. The next time they saw each other it was as if the incident never happened. Which is the way it should be if you think about it.

Was under the weather Saturday. So, I stayed home and rooted the Vols to victory over the Dawgs. The boys looked good. I'm thinking I need to get sick and stay home more if they keep playing like that without me.

I started Sunday, like always, reading Rheta Grimsley Johnson. Her column is a graduate course in great writing. This week's piece was about the too-short month of October. Poignant.

She's coming to town, by the way. I'll get to hear her at a lecture on Oct. 29. Can't wait.

Enjoyed breakfast at Amber with my dear friend Jaci Spicer. It was so good to see her again. And, as it always does, two hours flew by like a house at the side of the road. It was a nice treat. (In case you're wondering: two eggs, medium, sausage, biscuits and gravy, regular coffee.)

Singing practice was canceled, so I plopped down in the recliner and watched a "Gunsmoke" marathon for most of the afternoon. Doesn't get much better than that.

Last night, I headed out to Oak Ridge, to hang out with Mike and Judy Finn awhile. We have to re-create our Barley's experience now.

So, Mike put on a few Robinella bootlegs, we downed some cold ones and chatted about the songs, and the Detroit Tigers, and Napoleon's Waterloo and how the weather was. Mike and I caught a little bit of football and baseball on the tube before time to go home.

Then, to top it all off, Dean Harned called to say that Dean, his wife Allison and I are going to see Glen Campbell this Friday night in North Carolina. He's always been one of our favorite singers. After all, Glen's the Rhinestone Cowboy. He even played opposite John Wayne in "True Grit"!

So, yeah. If I can't have a pretty Monday, at least I had the weekend...

The day Johnny came marching home

And, so, it's back to reality.

After our dancing in the streets opener against Western Kentucky, Tennessee football fans were brought down to earth last night following a 19-15 upset loss to UCLA. I will leave it to others to talk about Jonathan Crompton's inept performance and a shaky offensive effort that ruined both stellar defense and a beautiful late summer Knoxville afternoon.

No, today, let's talk about the day Johnny came marching home.

In case you weren't there, UT honored one of its legends yesterday. Former head coach John Majors came back in a big way. He led the team down the traditional Vol Walk to the stadium. He was honored before the game. He was at midfield for the coin toss. And, yep, there he was, strolling the sidelines once again, in that trademark coat and tie.

My, how good it all felt, an overdue make-up perhaps, or at least a way to finally put 1992 behind us.

And, in case you weren't there either, here's what happened 17 years ago:

Majors underwent heart surgery before the season started. Serious stuff. UT announced that offensive coordinator Phil Fulmer would coach the team while Majors recuperated.

The Vols jumped out to a 5-0 start, which included unexpected wins at Georgia and against Florida. Majors returned to work sooner than expected (he reportedly just showed up at practice without telling anybody) and coached the Cincinnati game from the press box.

Then things just, well, went to hell. UT lost three straight -- to Arkansas, Alabama and South Carolina. Some fans (and others) jumped on Fulmer's bandwagon. (I never will forget the classless and disgusting chants of "Block That Artery!" at a home game that year.)

Word leaked in the days leading up to the Memphis State game that some kind of press conference would be held on, of all days, Friday the 13th. At it, Majors announced that he was being forced to resign at the end of the year.

To be fair, I should say that 1992 had not been a good year. Majors lost one of his best friends, trainer Tim Kerin. He had complained loud and long about wanting a pay raise during the preseason tour around the state. I have heard that a couple of the exchanges he had with old friends and members of UT's athletic board weren't pretty.

Still, the news was a shock. After all, Johnny was a favorite son, and the team despite its skid finished 8-3 and went to a Jan. 1 bowl.

Majors and some others said that it was part of a conspiracy, that Fulmer and others conspired to get his job. Fulmer denied it, said he'd remained a loyal assistant.

I don't know. I do think it's the great untold story of Tennessee football. Nobody in the local press at the time either had the sources or the guts to tell the real tale. About five people know the truth. Who knows whether they will ever blab about it.

Anyway, Majors left at the end of the year, returning to Pitt, where he'd once won a national championship and was (and is) a beloved figure. He remained bitter about the Tennessee firing and didn't have too much to do with his alma mater until after Fulmer's contract was bought out last year.

Perhaps Majors' biggest coaching flaw was his inconsistency. Legendary sportswriter Marvin West calls it a yo-yo. One step forward. One step back. Blow out Florida one week, lose to Alabama 9-6 the next. People always say, too, that Johnny was too conservative, "up the middle," blah, blah, blah. I hate to tell you this, folks, but not only is that a bit of hyperbole, it didn't stop after Majors went back to Pitt.

But, there he was yesterday, sporting his coat and tie, looking older and grayer, but still that same "I Did It My Way" coach that brought us so many good memories. Let's not forget (yeah, it was way before my time) that 1956 season, 10-0 before the bowl, single-wing tailback Majors losing the Heisman Trophy in a stunning and controversial vote to Paul Hornung, who played on a Notre Dame team that won two games that year.

Let's not forget that in 1977 Majors left Pittsburgh, the No. 1 team in the country, to resurrect a UT program that had hit a nadir. Let's not forget the 1982 win over Alabama, 1985, the '86 Sugar Bowl, the 11-1 team in '89, the 45-3 blowout of Florida in 1990 and the Miracle at South Bend. And let's never forget our fast-talkin' favorite son.

At the start of the fourth quarter, UT showed a video tribute to the ol' coach on the jumbotron. It showed his classic pregame talk in Memphis after the resignation announcement. It showed him roaming the sidelines in his coat and tie. It showed Andy Kelly throw a bomb down field.

Then it played a line from one of my favorite songs, and when I heard it I thought, "This is one of the classiest gestures this university has ever offered, one heck of an olive branch."

I'm the No. 1 fan of the man from Tennessee.

Welcome home, coach. You've been missed.

The coat and tie coach, gone for good

Read with amusement that Kevin O'Neill is going to USC.

Remember when he arrived on Rocky Top, big promises, fanfare and high expectations. The malaise that was Wade Houston was ending. Lopsided losses to Kentucky (on my birthday) would fade in time.

Slight aside: A friend told me once that his friend wandered into the athletic offices a day or two after a terrible loss. Houston had his feet propped up on his desk watching soap operas. When said friend held up the morning newspaper headline from the game, Houston straightened up, coughed and began to look busy. I don't know if the story is true, but if it isn't, it should be.

I always thought O'Neill was all mouth and no results at Tennessee. He was a foul-mouthed Yankee, bad representative for the university, sad example for the kids that might have sat a few rows up from the home bench.

Those who know more than me say he is a good coach, great recruiter, full of energy. I don't know.

I do know that he crept out of here with his 36-47 record, a literal thief in the night, for what he must have thought would be greener pastures at Northwestern. I still laugh at the image of Bob Knight insulting O'Neill after a game and Short Stuff trying to give it back to him. Amusing and pitiful.

Guess you can tell I never cared for him. And I don't care for that coaching style.

But, I'm out of touch. I like the old school, wear a coat and tie on the football sideline, stay stoic, know how to win and how to lose with class. Don't run your mouth. Be an adult. An added plus is when you show a little education, like maybe you know about a world outside of athletics.

I am one of about 10 people who still like John Majors. I still believe you don't show somebody who gave more to UT than anybody besides Gen. Robert Neyland the door without allowing the smoke to clear. I will never forget Johnny's mother, John Elizabeth "Bobo" Majors looking shellshocked that bleak Friday the 13th in Memphis.

"I gave one son to Tennessee," she said, thinking of her son Bill, assistant coach, who was hit by a train and killed in 1965 on the way to work. "Now I've given another."

But, then again, my alma mater is also the university that thanked George "Bad News" Cafego for a stellar multi-decade career upon his retirement by presenting him with a used van -- the means by which Tennessee's women's basketball team traveled to away games. Cafego never said a word, but it hurt him to the core. A bit later they welcomed back Doug Dickey with open arms, the Tall Guy who told his players he was staying, then slithered off to Florida.

The old-school breed of college coaches is long gone with the wind. I prefer solid defense to fun and gun offensive explosions. I dislike loud music at the stadium, a gargantuan jumbotron, fans cursing in the crowd. Doesn't matter now.

I'm waiting to see what Lane Kiffin delivers when talk must give way to what happens between the lines. We will see if the glitter turns to gold.

A good friend cautioned my do or die, show me soon, do so or I'm gone outlook. He needs two years. Give him a chance. He's inheriting a bad situation like we haven't seen since the end of the Battle years.

Maybe so.

But I just don't care for the arrogant, low-class Nick Sabans and Urban Meyers of the world, call a time out to throw another touchdown pass when the outcome is no longer in doubt. Outside of Howard Schnellenberger, we'll never see a coat and tie coach roaming the college sideline. Now it's visors and polo shirts, slobs that look like they just rolled out of bed, the Patriots coach sporting his homeless guy cut off sweatshirt.

The bright lights of modern college football mean win games or else. It is a business. Earn your bloated salary or take a hike.

The gentleman era is gone for good. I'm not so sure that is a good thing.

4 a.m.

Curious are the thoughts one has at 4 a.m.

I am tempted to do the stream of consciousness thing again. Just to give you an example. But, nah. Faulkner was the master; I am nowhere near that ballpark. I'm too sleepy to do it anyway.

You ever get so tired you aren't tired? That's me tonight.

Had a big day, though. My nephew (well, he isn't really my nephew, but he calls me Uncle Jake and I reciprocate) celebrated his fourth birthday. Who knew, but it seems Transformers are the rage again. Something old, something new.

Watching him tear open his presents, slinging the paper to this side and that, made me smile. Ah, the innocent enthusiasm of the young. Sad, isn't it, that we later outgrow it.

I developed one of my trademark headaches. Thank God this one was sinus rather than migraine. So, I sneaked downstairs at Shelton's to the cool basement, sat down in the recliner, and napped while the Cubs beat the Cards.

Later I kept a friend company while she shopped. Funny the things you overhear at the Halls Walmart at 11 on a Saturday night. Unfortunately for me and my headache, that was the squall of a brat.

But, I enjoyed the companionship and the laughter over a country version of "Gin and Juice." Even bought a six-pack of IBC root beer. Made me forget all about the headache.

Now I'm trying to wind down, but am kept up by a new novel written by one Inman Majors, nephew to Tennessee football's first son, Johnny Majors. Its title is "The Millionaires." It is a not so thinly disguised fictionalization of the Butcher banking scandal of the late 1970s and early 1980s.

I am too tired to go into that tale for those unfamiliar with it, so I will save it for a future blog, when I review the book in question. I knew about Inman from a Metro Pulse story written a few years back. But I had no idea about this novel, which was apparently released in January. For whatever reason, local media has been silent about it.

Well, the clock reads 4:30 and I guess I'd better turn in. I will drop by again soon. Hope you're enjoying a good night's sleep.

I wish I was.

The coat and tie

I'm watching the Colts and Jaguars on ESPN Monday Night Football tonight. Jacksonville coach Jack Del Rio is wearing a tie on the sideline!

Now that's how a ball coach should dress, dammit.

Call me retro, call me old school, but I'll never go for the slovenly "I'm really not homeless" look that, oh, say, Bill "Cheater" Belichick favors. Nor the wimpy visor and polo shirt that the ol' ball coach brought to the SEC.

Give me a suit, tie, pissed off visage, and preferably a houndstooth cap -- or at least a men's dress hat. Men like Neyland (it's pronounced KNEE-land, by the way), Majors, Landry, Lombardi and, of course, the ball coach, Paul William Bryant.

I spotted several Alabama students dressed up in Tuscaloosa on Saturday. Man, that looks good. If nothing happens, the Big Orange suit will be pulled out of the closet for Saturday night's game.


Tony Basilio interviewed another favorite coach, former Texas A&M and Alabama legend Gene Stallings, on his radio sports show last Friday. If you want to hear what a real football coach sounds like, click on tonybasilio.com and look for the "Gene Stallings" link.

Compare a guy like Stallings to a clown like Dennis Franchione. I bet those folks in College Station wish they'd never heard of that guy. Serves him right for the lies he told those kids at Alabama.

Nick Saban wasn't wearing a suit and tie Saturday, but the way his team dismantled Tennessee, you'd have thought we'd turned the clock back to the mid-70s. I kept looking for Bear on the sideline.

Earth to John Chavis: Tackling usually helps stop an offense. I'm tired of hearing this "young team" stuff. Even Pee Wee teams know how to tackle.

Whatever. I'm going to finish this Colts game, then I might watch "The Junction Boys" again.

It doesn't get any better than a suit, a tie and a snazzy looking hat.

'War and Peace' update: Well, Russian Romanticism isn't exactly good reading before bedtime. I read a few pages last night, suffered through the passages in French, and finally gave up and went back to reading a biography on FDR, "A Rendezvous with Destiny," that I had started a few weeks ago. Don't worry, though. I'm going to try again; I just don't need to be reading Tolstoy before bed.