Through My Eyes (25 page)

We fumbled twice in the first half but still led, 28–3, at the half-time break. As always with South Carolina, it was a physical game. I know Coach Spurrier has a reputation with the fans for having passing, finesse teams, but his teams always hit. Hard.

We played better in the second half, and like the rest of our games during that stretch, it wasn’t close.

We had one more tune-up, which resulted in a win over The Citadel, and then we faced FSU again. This time, it was in Tallahassee—my
Braveheart
game. I really appreciated the similarities as that’s my favorite movie. A pouring rain soaked the field, and I got garnet paint on my uniform and face early in the game. It ended up looking like blood, but that was where the parallels between me and William Wallace ended. On that day,
we
were the ones doing the slaughtering.

We scored early and often, and as in other Florida State games, I was looking to make contact with someone on each of my runs. Early on I ran over their safety, helping to set the tone for our approach to the rest of the game. Our guys didn’t need any help, however. Percy scored again, and I threw three touchdown passes and ran for another. I even recovered a fumble.

They had the ball in good field position a couple of times early, but our defense played great, holding them to field goals, while we were scoring touchdowns. We stayed in control all day long.

My one rushing touchdown came after Percy was injured. In every other stadium I’ve played in, there’s silence when a player is injured, whether he plays for the home or visiting team. But when Percy went down in front of their stands, the FSU fans burst into loud cheering and chanting, celebrating his injury. Even while he was being attended to, before anyone knew if he was all right. That only reinforced my long-time and well-established feelings for them.

We had the ball at their four yard line at the time, and I was steamed at the cheering. I jogged over to Coach Meyer.

“Give me the ball.”

He nodded.

I hit the line and was stood up by a couple of FSU defenders. In a play that summed up our approach that year, most of my teammates joined the pile and pushed me—and the surrounding FSU players—into the end zone. Touchdown.

I ran over to the section of the stands where our fans were seated and waved my arms, bringing them to a frenzy. Throughout the game, we controlled FSU, scoring on five of the first seven times we had the ball, and we had more than twice as many yards as they did for the game.

For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life.

—J
OHN 3:16

It was a good thing
I loved big games, because the week after the FSU game, we had another big one, as we headed to Atlanta for the Southeastern Conference Championship Game against Alabama.

After the 2007 season, Nick Saban had left the Miami Dolphins to replace Mike Shula, and he had Alabama playing very well. They were undefeated and ranked number one in the nation. We were ranked number two and had that one loss to Ole Miss, of course. It had been two months since we’d lost, however, and we were a very confident group.

After wearing Philippians 4:13 on my eye black all season, I thought about switching it for that game and going with John 3:16. I mulled it over for a while but decided to leave it the same. If we ended up on a bigger stage—the BCS National Championship Game for example—I’d switch.

The atmosphere was electric in the Georgia Dome. Our whole family was there and had all stayed at Katie and Gannon’s house. Our defense set the tone for us immediately by stopping Alabama on their opening drive. Even though we were missing Percy Harvin, who had sprained an ankle in that FSU game, our offense drove right down the field on a great drive in which I hit Carl Moore for a touchdown on third and goal. Our coaches did a great job preparing us with the absence of Percy, who up until then had scored in every game that year.

It was one of those well-played games by both teams, where you’re happy to be a part of it. We went into halftime leading 17–10, after David Nelson caught a touchdown pass right before the end of the half. After the Ole Miss game, David had stepped up as he said he would, and he had come through at some critical times for us.

Alabama came out strong in the second half, and we didn’t score in the third quarter. They tied the score on a touchdown by their freshman running back, Mark Ingram, and then added a field goal to take the lead, 20–17, entering the fourth quarter.

We were both playing for everything—the SEC title and a spot in the National Championship game.

We embarked on an offensive drive that was the biggest drive of the game for us. If we didn’t score, we ran the risk of their scoring again and putting the game out of reach. It was a slow, methodical drive where we kept making play after play after play. Great offense vs. great defense.

I looked at the faces in the huddle. “We are going to win this game
right now
.” I believed. They believed.

We were able to make some great plays and manage the ball. After I picked up a couple of third downs, we had the ball on their one yard line, and Coach Mullen made a great play call. I’m pretty sure Alabama thought we were going to run it right up the middle, but instead I ran an option with Jeff Demps, in which, after I flipped it to him, he basically walked into the end zone untouched—our guys made some great blocks.

Great call. Great execution.

We now led again, 24–20, and desperately needed to keep the momentum. I ran over and head-butted everybody on the kickoff team, trying to get them all fired up to stop Alabama. I don’t really know if the head-butts were the reason or not, but our kickoff team and defense got big stops, and we got the ball back with just a few minutes left to play.

The only way we were going to be safe was if we scored a touchdown. If we kicked a field goal, we would still only be up by seven and they could tie us on a single play. With a touchdown, they would need to score twice.

We systematically moved the ball on runs and with the help of a big Alabama penalty, and then we were able to hit a swing pass to David Nelson—another big catch for him—for ten yards. We kept moving the ball down the field and working time off the clock in the process. Eventually we had a first down from their twenty-one yard line. I connected with Aaron Hernandez on a shovel pass and got the first down. It was a huge call. Great call again, and very well executed by Aaron and the guys.

On first and goal I ran the ball and gained five yards down to the goal line. Second and goal from the one.

Flag. A yellow flag was down on the field. The officials, inexplicably, called a penalty on Coach Meyer for being too far on the field. I’ve never seen something like that—at least not in a situation like that.

Now we were on the six yard line with second down and goal to go for a touchdown. Jeff Demps gained one on second down, leaving us with third and goal from the five. We desperately needed a touchdown.

Our coaches called “Trick Left 51 X Stutter Bend Cash,” in which Riley Cooper ran a stutter slant from the right toward the middle of the field. I anticipated Coach Saban would have Alabama come out in a Cover One (man defense) with certain players having no responsibility other than reading my eyes. After the snap, I immediately looked left to freeze those free defenders—a linebacker and a safety were reading my eyes—and quickly threw right to Coop before they could adjust. I had to throw it down and in front of Coop, because of the defenders. He did the rest. That was one of the biggest plays of Riley’s and my career.

That was the game right there. We had so much momentum. Our defense held them again, and we ran out the clock. We were the SEC champions and would be slated to be playing in the National Championship Game in South Florida early in January 2009.

Afterward, Coach Meyer said he thought my performance was the best fourth-quarter performance that he’s ever seen from a player. I know he’s biased, but it felt good to help the team and get us to the next game. The truth was, a whole lot of us chipped in—both on the field and on the sidelines—to achieve the victory that day and keep the promise we had made to one another.

The next morning, however, my head was killing me. I didn’t understand why, but when I looked in the mirror and saw the knots all over my forehead, I realized what I’d done. Those head-butts with the kickoff team? I’d forgotten that I didn’t have my helmet on. I’ll never do that again.

While we were beginning our practices for Oklahoma in the National Championship Game later that month, the award circuit began again. I was really hopeful about being a two-time winner of the Heisman.

Unfortunately it was not to be, but that merely further fueled my desire. I’d been to the BCS Championship once, and now I was headed back. And I was determined to win.

Game on.

We had a month
to prepare. It was a busy month, between finals and the announcement that Coach Mullen would be named the head coach at Mississippi State. Coach Mullen had a particularly tough stretch, as he worked for both schools that month: recruiting for Mississippi State and hiring a staff and putting together a game plan while staying with us through the game.

I have never been more nervous than I was headed into the BCS National Championship Game. The fact that it was my second one didn’t change a thing. We were playing Oklahoma, and “Game on” or not, they were really good. They had been scoring at will on good teams all season, winning games by large margins. They were the highest scoring team in college football history and had scored more than
sixty
points five games in a row at one stretch.

But if there was any defense that could handle that and deal with what they had to do to prepare to stop that great Oklahoma offense—it was our defense.

Hands down. And they would be ready.

All week, their defense was talking trash, saying that I would have only been the sixth-best quarterback if I had played in their conference, the Big 12. I found that hurtful and upsetting; I was sure that I would’ve been at least fifth.

When we’re playing a night game, Coach Meyer always gives us about three hours off during the day. When we’re playing on a Saturday night during the regular season, this is a good thing. I could sit up in my hotel room, stay off my feet, and watch other college games from around the country.

However, this game was Thursday, January 8, 2009. When you’re sitting in Miami, waiting for the final game of the entire football season, with nothing to do but sit around and check out Thursday-afternoon television while trying not to dwell on the game that night . . .

I decided to have an impromptu Bible study and called as many guys as would fit into our room, including Pastor Lindsey (Lindsey Seals), the Ocala minister who served as our team chaplain. I spoke to the guys on Matthew 11:28–30, which says,

Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.

Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.

I told my teammates gathered that Jesus promises to take on the weight of the world, so that we don’t have to. All we needed to do was follow Him—the yoke was used for leading cattle or oxen, plowing or pulling a cart. He would be responsible for the pressures we might have felt.

I then looked around the room and said, “Guys, we are
going
to win the National Championship tonight. And when we do, we are going to give so much honor and glory to Jesus Christ. It is going to be awesome.”

Somebody had a guitar, and for the next couple of hours, we just sang hymns and other worship songs. There were a lot of bad voices in that room, but none of us cared. The Bible says to “make a joyful noise to the L
ORD
” (see Psalm 98:4), but it doesn’t say anything about a “good” noise—thankfully. You could feel the experience we just went through together, even moments later as we met up again in the lobby, having changed into suits and ties.

I walked up to Coach Meyer and told him that I had prayed about it, and that I was going to change the scripture on my eye black to John 3:16.

“You can’t. What are you thinking?” was his immediate response. “Philippians 4:13 is such a
great
verse,” he continued. We both knew that it was the same superstitious streak bubbling up in him that caused him to sit on the forty-fifth row at Florida Field when waiting for my announcement as to which university I was going to attend, three years earlier.

I repeated that I was changing it to John 3:16. He looked into my eyes and could tell that I knew it was the right thing to do. He paused. “Yeah, that’s a great one, too. Okay, that’ll be
great
!” And, excited about it, he bounded onto the bus.

After getting dressed in my uniform, I passed Coach Mullen in the locker room, and he immediately noticed the change.

“What’s that verse about?” he asked.

“For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life.”

His jaw dropped. “Can you do that with
every
verse in the Bible? I just name one, and you quote it?”

I laughed. “Unfortunately, no.” Thanks to my parents, I had memorized a lot in my life, but not all of them. Of course, I stacked the deck—I made sure that I knew the ones I was writing under my eyes.

During pregame warm-ups, I walked over to Coach Meyer. He’s always so focused, but I figured I’d loosen things up a little.

“Hey, don’t you have like a million-dollar bonus if we win?”

He laughed. “Something like that.”

“That seems fair. Meanwhile, I think I get an extra orange juice at training table if we win. How ’bout we just split that bonus?”

“I would if they’d let me.” He seemed sincere. The NCAA’s stance on paying players—or not paying them—seems unfair to me, with the preposterous amounts of money being made by schools, television, coaches, and the like. And the players?

Just a thought.

But a serious one—for serious consideration by serious people.

I love Christmas and gift-giving, but it was a pain to have to scrimp every winter to try to get enough together to buy decent presents for everyone in my family (another reason to not have a girlfriend—I couldn’t have afforded even one more Christmas present). In fact, that year, when we had a couple of days off before going to Miami for the National Championship Game, I went home and spent several hours in a pouring rain on Christmas Eve, weeding my mom’s garden. She loved that garden, but after years of chicken manure and Mr. Bell’s biddies (the young hens), those weeds were hard to keep up with. That was the best present I could afford to give her. And Mom made me feel as though it was the best present she could have received—whether or not it really was.

I guess I didn’t do a very good job on closing the deal for a championship-game bonus juice, and moments later, we were under way.

Neither team scored in the first quarter. Both sidelines could attribute it to nerves, but Oklahoma did some really nice things on defense. They had previously run a four-man front (four defensive linemen) during the season but switched to a three-man front for the game. It took us a little while to adjust, and in the meantime, I threw an interception early in the game. I had only thrown two all year, as we had done a really nice job taking care of the ball during the season. This was not a good time to change that.

In the second quarter, we jumped to an early lead, when I connected with Louis Murphy on a twenty yard touchdown pass to make it 7–0. Oklahoma quickly tied the score at 7–7, and then I was picked off again, deep in our territory. Frustrating, but I didn’t have time to get down on myself. It was a time to forget what was behind—but learn from it—and press on toward what was ahead.

Our defense made a great fourth-down goal-line stand, and then after our series we punted, and they drove down to our six yard line, at which point we picked off a pass from Sam Bradford. The two teams had led the nation in fewest turnovers during the season and now had combined for three in the first half. It was 7–7 at halftime.

Game on.

Thirty minutes for the rest of our lives.

After all of those hours, days, and months in the weight room, it was time for all of that to pay off. And it did.