Being a Tennessee Fan

Growing up in Knoxville, you don’t really have a choice. No, I’m not talking about whether or not you’re conservative or if you have an inexplicable affinity for Chick-Fil-A, but the fact that a certain gaudy orange will always be a part of your life.

I was born in February of 1998, just a short month after the beloved Tennessee Volunteers captured the first ever BCS National Title, and their 6th overall in program history. Just before that season, Volunteer fans were blessed with four years of Peyton Manning. The press conference where he announced his decision to return for his senior season in Knoxville is one that forever etched Manning in the hearts of everyone in Knoxville. In addition to Manning, Shields-Watkins field also has housed greats such as Heisman runner-up Johnny Majors, the first black SEC starting quarterback, the great Condrage Holloway, the “Minister of Defense” Reggie White, and hundreds of others. Even Bear Bryant “learned everything he knew” from Tennessee’s own General Robert Neyland.

There are very few reasons one lives in Knoxville. The restaurant scene consists of a wide variety of chains, while the night life is hardly more than a few sports bars. Most were born and raised there, or went to school at “the real UT.” The lucky move because of their devotion to Tennessee Football, and the unlucky being the other SEC fans in a sea of crazed Volunteers. And then there are the few who move to Knoxville with little knowledge of the Vols and are soon treated like atheists in a land of missionaries.

My parents fell into the last category. They were those who only knew the schedule so they wouldn’t get caught up in the traffic that overtakes Knoxville on a football weekend. Despite my odd upbringing, I still knew exactly what the Vols were. You can barely walk around Knoxville in the fall without hearing the words ‘Peyton’ and ‘football.’ I learned more than just my ABC’s in kindergarten. My most memorable lessons were learning the beloved “Rocky Top,” along with the exact beat I had to swing my orange and white clad shaker into the air. You could color with many colors, but there was only one acceptable shade of orange. The phrase “Go Vols” was exchanged much more often on Saturdays, going along with that single shade of orange being worn even more often and car flags and decals plastered everywhere I looked. Saturdays consisted of one of three things; attending the game, tailgating outside the game, or, for the very unfortunate, just watching the game on TV. And in church the following Sunday, trusting God in the good times and the bad was always linked to what the Vols did the previous day.

Growing up in this environment, I quickly grew to love sports, especially football. Of course, the only football that was taught was Tennessee football. I finally annoyed my dad enough force him to take me to a game, and he decided to take me to the instate “rivalry” against Vanderbilt. I distinctly remember the long walk up the Strip along Cumberland Avenue, walking among thousands of drunk, orange clad fans screaming “I said it’s great to be a Tennessee Vol,” swearing at the few Vandy fans who dared show their face in Knoxville. After weaving through the campus, we finally made our way to the top of Volunteer Blvd overlooking Phillip Fulmer Way. Looking out, I saw the great Gate 21 and the sea of orange enveloping the sanctuary that was Neyland Stadium. Stretched along the Tennessee River was the Vol Navy, hundreds more fans tailgating on their orange clad boats.

After the slow car ride and maneuvering among the hundreds of thousands of people, we finally approached our seats, under the overhang in the south end zone with 102,455 of my new best friends. The T opened up, the Volunteers took the field, and my heart was sold that the boys in orange would be tied to me for the rest of my life. The Vols lost that day to lowly Vanderbilt and Jay Cutler for the first time in 23 years. My ears were shot, my voice was lost, and our car was also towed. I should have known that this feeling would’ve foreshadowed my entire experience thus far with UT football, but, hey, you can’t help who you love.

Even Peyton Manning lost four straight years to Florida, but then we won the national title the following year. Of course I still believed in the Vols. The following years would bring even more heartbreak. The cherished Phillip Fulmer would be forced out a year after our last appearance in the SEC title game (2007), carried out on his players’ shoulders after a win against Kentucky (!!!). This was followed by waves of optimism when Lane Kiffin stepped foot in Knoxville to lead the Vols. Kiffin brought some promise but even more heartbreak, most notably when Terrence Cody singlehandedly denied the Vols from upsetting #1 Alabama in Bryant Denny Stadium. He also recruited Nick Stephens over Tajh Boyd, who just “wasn’t good enough.” Kiffin soon provided more heartbreak, as he deemed USC better than Tennessee, and left after a year. Frat couches and mattresses burned, along with the roster that Kiffin left in shambles.

Tennessee wanted a change of face, so they brought in Derek Dooley. However, Dooley knew nothing about recruiting or leading a major college football program. In his first season, Dooley’s mental errors had two WINS called off against LSU and UNC on the final play of the game. His remaining two years included our first loss to Kentucky in 27 years, a GameDay blowout to Florida, and a blowout loss to, hello again, Vanderbilt.

These years of heartbreak are where my significant memory of Tennessee Football started. I had thrown my remote at my TV repeatedly, shed many tears, and buried my head in between the same two couch cushions. But, against all odds, I was still in love with that orange, along with millions of other unfortunate people. Tennessee Football now had a new savior to grace the face of the program; Butch Jones. He started strong, recruited hard, and even won a few games he shouldn’t have against the Georgia Bulldogs. Knoxville was finally back where it belonged, in the heart of college football talk across the nation.

Then came 2016; Butch’s fourth year, the Vols were ranked in the top 10, loaded with veteran talent, and picked by many to earn a spot in the playoff. “Feels like ‘98” was the phrase of the year, echoing the sentiment that many fans believed we would capture another title. The season started out with an overtime comeback win against APPALACHIAN STATE, where many people threw up, and it wasn’t just because of the amount of alcohol they consumed. I, along with many others, thought, “here we go again,” but after the win, I still believed. Then came another comeback win against the Hokies of Virginia Tech in the largest college football game ever played. Tensions were high as the Vols played Ohio, then faced a four game gauntlet against Florida, Georgia, Alabama, and Texas A&M.

The Vols hadn’t beaten Florida in 11 years when they fell behind 21–0. This came after losing the previous two games against the Gators in the fourth quarter. “Here we go again” was thought by all those in orange. But… we scored 38 unanswered points. And then we won!!! Tennessee football was finally back. The next week we traveled to Athens to play between the hedges. Again we fell behind, this time 17–0. But after playing horrendously, we took the lead with less than 3 minutes remaining and looked to have the game in the bag. But, Georgia’s Jacob Easton heaved a long TD pass to Riley Ridley with 10 seconds left. We were back to being lowly Tennessee. Until we weren’t. Thanks to a short kickoff and a facemask penalty, Josh Dobbs had four seconds to chuck a Hail Mary into the waiting arms of Jauan Jennings. If you weren’t on the Tennessee bandwagon before, you were now. We were back, baby!

Next came a long journey to College Station to face #8 Texas A&M. Another improbable comeback featured three touchdowns in the finals 7 minutes of the fourth quarter. Despite 7 turnovers, the Vols still managed to force a two overtime game. This time, though, was different. We lost. But, we were still in the driver’s seat of the SEC East, and possessed a clear path to the playoff. Alabama came to town the following week and quickly sucked the life out of Neyland Stadium. Tennessee was decimated with injuries and it showed. The East was now not necessarily ours for the taking, and the playoff was a long stretch away. But, it was still there, and we were still Tennessee.

Fortunately, we had a bye week before we faced the horrendously bad South Carolina Gamecocks. However, then the unthinkable happened. We lost, again. The East was still in reach (barely), but the playoff and our national championship hopes were shattered. We then shaped up against Tennessee Tech, and unconvincingly defeated Kentucky and Missouri. The Sugar Bowl, though much a disappointment, was still a nice consolation prize in reach. The Vols just had to beat Vandy (see a theme here?) in the regular season finale. Easy right? Wrong. The Commodores scored 14 unanswered points in the 4th quarter on their way to crushing our SEC and Sugar Bowl dreams.

The Vols ended the season in Nashville, beating an overrated Big 10 team in Nebraska. Even when we had seemingly turned the corner, we fell back to mediocrity. Now the Vols enter the 2017 season with another coach on the hot seat, despite possessing the best fans, talent, and facilities in the country. Déjà vu? I’d be lying if I didn’t think so. Yet has anyone stopped believing in the Vols? Not in the slightest.

I guess if you’ve made it this far in my ramblings you’re either a fellow suffering Volunteer, or just wondering why I continue to put up with the Vols. My first excuse would have to be belief. The Vols were good, maybe not in my lifetime, but we have all the tools to be great again. Life’s a cycle, and I’m just hoping the national championship part of that comes around again sooner rather than later. Aside from this belief, I would have to say love. There is no feeling quite like the goosebumps I get every time the Vols run through the T, or when “Rocky Top” is sung by 102,455 to an audience of 70 shaking opposing players, or when “Go Vols” is an acceptable greeting in any situation. There’s nothing like having your legs hurt from standing 8 hours on game day, or just seeing that gaudy orange bringing a smile to someone’s face. It gets real when you remember history by what happened in college football that week, or when your hand is as red as the Crimson Tide after you receive 50 high fives after a great play, or when children are named Peyton at an unnatural rate in East Tennessee. And when that buildup to kick off on a fall Saturday gives you all the hope in the world, that’s when you know it’s football time in Tennessee.

Loving Tennessee has taught me how to deal with disappointment, heartbreak, and to stick to what and who I believe in. I will never stop hoping in and loving the University of Tennessee Volunteers. No, this isn’t because I believe they’ll win a national championship every year (which I do), but because there is no feeling like cheering on the Vols every Saturday in the fall. Rocky Top, you’ll truly always be home sweet home to me!

Related posts:

A buyer persona is a fictional representation of a person who is thought to be a typical consumer of a business. A buyer persona is a marketing phrase that refers to the traits of a certain kind of…

In this post I intend to introduce you to docker compose. Compose is a tool which lets you structure up your containers in a neat little yaml file. Yaml is a “language” that is quite easy to read and…

Paul sat in the food court outside the Los Angeles Ritz-Carlton looking for assassins. He scanned the rooftops for snipers. Was the man fumbling for his phone actually pulling a gun? Was the woman…