A long road to a meteoric rise: A 13-hour, Mountain Dew-fueled drive and Dan Lanning’s path to stardom
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Paolo Uggetti, ESPNAug 16, 2024, 08:00 AM ET
EUGENE, Ore. — The first thing Dan Lanning notices when I step into his office is my shoes.
“You’re wearing Reeboks in here, man?” he says, pointing at my Club C sneakers. Lanning, of course, is in head-to-toe Nike. He smiles. “Don’t worry, I won’t get you in trouble with anyone.”
When he was a high school PE teacher and assistant with a desire to coach at a Division I level, it’s safe to say Lanning never thought it would happen in Eugene. But now that he’s here, it doesn’t take much to see how comfortable he is.
Eugene is removed and quiet, while the presence of the university permeates the entire city. It has the passionate fan base that Lanning has experienced at SEC schools before, the national Nike appeal and the resources of a powerhouse ready to do the most important thing: win.
At 38 years old, Lanning’s position is unique. Not only is he one of the youngest head coaches in college football, but he and his team find themselves squarely in the center of the sport. The Ducks are ranked No. 3 in the AP preseason poll, are the second-favorite to win the Big Ten and are expected to not just make the 12-team College Football Playoff, but make a run at a title. Their recruiting is one of the best in the country and their name, image and likeness prowess, fueled by Nike founder and Oregon booster Phil Knight, seems to be the envy of the sport.
This is exactly what Lanning wanted. This is what he has prepared the past 14 years for. This is why, when his former boss Nick Saban retired at the end of last season, Lanning — who was rumored to be one of the top choices for the Alabama job — didn’t entertain the position.
“I feel like I have the things necessary here to win. So how much money does a person need to make? What do you really need in your life?” Lanning said. “For me, I want to be in a place where I can win championships. I feel like we’re close to that here. And then there is a level of loyalty to people that gave you an opportunity. Why should anybody ever trust me again if I, if I do leave here for something else?”
Oregon, perhaps more than any other program in recent years, knows the feeling well of being left behind for something else.
Lanning, like many young coaches, is an amalgamation of his previous experiences and thus, the previous head coaches who gave him those crucial opportunities — a list that includes Saban, Todd Graham, Mike Norvell and Kirby Smart. He has also had nearly every job you can have in the sport — from graduate assistant, to recruiting coordinator, to special teams coach, to defensive coordinator.
It has all positioned him perfectly for what today’s college football coaches have to be: a CEO-type with an ability to oversee an entire program without losing a keen eye for detail. Lanning’s youth is matched by his confidence, variety of experiences and ability to draw people in. A former coach he worked with said he’s “as comfortable in a room with a $20 million donor as he is with the third-string linebacker.”
“He’s got a lot of experience for a 38-year-old,” said Graham, who first hired Lanning when he was the head coach at Pittsburgh. “[Oregon has] a synergy with him and he’s just getting started. This guy, he isn’t even close to reaching his potential.”
ONE COULD CALL it bold. Others could argue it was ludicrous. Even now, 13 years later, Lanning would simply deem it necessary.
That’s how he found himself inside his truck, blaring old CDs, drinking Mountain Dew and rolling the windows open to stay awake as he sped east down Interstate 70 on a 13-hour road trip from Kansas City to Pittsburgh. Whatever scenery may have wallpapered the overnight journey that cut through Missouri, Illinois, Indiana and Ohio into Pennsylvania was mostly invisible. Lanning was heading toward his future in the dark.
“There was certainly a lot of intent,” Lanning said. “I was dreaming big. I wanted to be part of a Division I staff.”
Lanning didn’t have a glowing résumé. He was a 24-year-old high school teacher and an assistant at Park Hill South High School in North Kansas City who coached defensive backs, special teams and wide receivers. It was mid-January and school was in session, so Lanning had taught class earlier that day and once the school day was over, he got in his car and started to drive.
No one knew he was coming, but Lanning knew why he was going there. Graham, the former Tulsa coach — whom Lanning had met multiple times when attending coaching clinics at the school — had just taken the Pittsburgh head-coaching job. Lanning saw an opening, if ever so small, to make his move.
“For me, it was like this little sliver of hope,” Lanning said. “Like this might be my only opportunity.”
The feeling Lanning carried with him throughout the trip, the feeling that he kept coming back to even as he was tired or questioned what he was doing, even as he had to stop at a gas station near campus to change into a suit or park half a mile away to try to, as Lanning explained, “sneak,” into the facility, was not either success or failure, but rather regret.
“I just didn’t want to be the guy that was sitting on his recliner 15 years later saying, ‘Man, what if I would’ve just got my car and drove to Pittsburgh?'” Lanning said. “The whole drive there, it was kind of the same thought. I never really spent any time thinking about, this might not work out. I just wanted to think about, ‘If I don’t do this, how much will I regret it?'”
Lanning got to Pittsburgh around 5 a.m. and made it all the way to the Pitt lobby before a graduate assistant, Eric Thatcher, told him the bad news: The coaches were at a clinic at Penn State. Lanning would have to wait a little longer. He got a room at the local Spring Hill and returned the next day to meet with defensive coordinator Keith Patterson. Lanning made an immediate impression on him, as well as on Graham.
Above all, Graham remembered Lanning’s persistence, which led him and Patterson to allow Lanning to stick around and volunteer. The door was now ajar — Lanning drove all the way back to Kansas City and resigned from his high school job the same day.
“He’d saved money for a year to do this, and his wife stayed in Kansas City. He wouldn’t take no for an answer,” Graham said. “Then he immediately starts outworking everybody in the building.”
On a staff that included current Florida State coach Mike Norvell, Lanning quickly impressed those around him and made the leap from volunteer to intern to graduate assistant in three months.
“There was never a task that was too small for him,” Norvell said. “He never went through the motions. I knew if I was ever to get the opportunity to be a head coach, he is definitely a guy that I wanted on my staff.”
Lanning looks back at Pitt as not just an opportunity but a wake-up call. He learned how much he didn’t know, he “failed a ton” and realized that his journey would require patience, effort and a whole lot of learning. Just six months into working with Lanning, Graham knew his assistant had the ingredients to achieve his lofty goal: becoming a Division I head coach and winning a national title.
The overnight dash to Pittsburgh had gotten Lanning in the building, but it was his work there that earned him a job as a GA — and eventually as a recruiting coordinator — at Arizona State when Graham took the head-coaching job there in 2012. Even as a grad assistant, Lanning would be bold enough to make suggestions in meetings based on his own film study. Some coaches on staff were bothered by it. Soon though, even the veterans came to respect his suggestions.
“Coaches don’t like that. They don’t like young, hotshot guys,” Graham said. “And then after a year, everybody in the building loves this guy. So not only does he have the work ethic, but he has the talent. And what I mean by talent, to me, coaching is relationships and there’s no one better than him at relationships in my opinion.”
After those two years as a graduate assistant and recruiting coordinator at Arizona State, Lanning got his first full-time job as a defensive backs coach and co-recruiting coordinator at Sam Houston State. Graham, who credited Lanning for the defense ASU played over his two seasons there, still rues allowing him to leave.
“Dumbest thing I ever did was let him do that,” Graham said. “I should have fired somebody and hired him. I should have hired him there and kept him there. Then he goes from there to Alabama as a GA and then goes to Memphis. And then I offered him the defensive coordinator job. Heck, I’d probably still be at Arizona State if he’d have taken it.”
But Graham knows there was nothing he could have done to keep Lanning around for long. This was just the beginning.
DESPITE WHAT HE told Graham when he was in his mid-20s, Lanning’s mindset has changed over the years.
When his wife, Sauphia, was diagnosed with bone cancer in late 2016 while he was the inside linebackers coach at Memphis, Lanning’s focus shifted away from his head-coaching dreams and toward his family.
By the time he got the job offer to be the outside linebackers coach at Georgia in 2018, Sauphia was cancer-free. Lanning took over as defensive coordinator a year later and he now admits that he relished that position and enjoyed it to the point where he was satisfied if he never became a head coach.
“But those opportunities came,” Lanning said. At the end of 2021, Lanning took the first head-coaching job of his career at Oregon. “I didn’t want to become a head coach where I couldn’t be great, where I couldn’t compete for championships, where I could be ahead of the curve. I was at a point at Georgia where I wasn’t going to leave for a place that I didn’t feel I could do it. Oregon checked all those boxes.”
Everything before had prepared him for this. Lanning’s résumé doubles as an ideal graduate program for anyone wanting to be a head coach. One year at Alabama under Saban. Two years at Memphis under Mike Norvell. Three years at Georgia under Kirby Smart.
“Dan is a sponge. I don’t think Dan does everything exactly like I did it. I don’t think he does everything exactly like Nick did it, but I think he’s taken the best of every situation he’s been in,” Graham said. “I think he is a combination of those people, and the one thing that I think is his secret to his sauce to what he does, the guy learns. He is a learner and once he learns it, he’s got it.”
It doesn’t take much to see that certain standard play out in Eugene. From Saban, he learned “robotic consistency” to the day-to-day, which now plays out in how Oregon approaches practices, which are planned down to almost the second with no time being wasted. From Smart, he learned how to adapt defensive personnel in the middle of games depending on what the opponent was doing. From Norvell, Lanning — a defensive coach — learned about the offensive side of the ball, which is now under his purview at Oregon.
It’s not just the variety of coaches Lanning has worked under, but also the plethora of jobs he has held. Lanning says he prided himself on finding the jobs nobody else wanted to do and excelling at them. He knew, even back then, those experiences would help him when he ascended to his goal of being a head coach.
“It has just shaped him into the head coach he is today, which is a guy who can do it all if he needed to,” Oregon offensive coordinator Will Stein said. “If every coordinator was out sick, or at some crazy emergency, Dan could call the offense, defense and special teams, call the whole game on his own. If the recruiting department was all out for some reason, he could run the recruiting department too. No job is too big for Dan … he’d sweep the floors if he had to.”
Current players and assistants alike rave about Lanning’s ability to connect with people. His personality — a cocktail of focus, intensity and drive — creates a magnetism that is palpable any time you speak with anyone else wearing Oregon colors.
“I think he connects well with the players because he’s not like a grandpa,” quarterback Dillon Gabriel said. “I think he does a damn good job of being real. He is able to be vulnerable with us and that allows us to be vulnerable, which makes you gain confidence in one another and get closer.”
“He’s the same guy every day, never too high, never too low,” Stein said. “He’s always in the middle. When your leader, when your boss is the consistent person in the building, everyone strives to match his intensity and knowledge.”
Lanning isn’t doing anything groundbreaking in being able to relate to players while also coaching them hard. But as Graham and Norvell point out, those two go hand in hand. And it’s the combination of Lanning’s personality with his football acumen and competitive determination that makes him unique.
“Plenty of people get opportunities and don’t capitalize,” Norvell said. “But you take work ethic and intelligence, that’s a good recipe for success, and that’s who Dan is.”
THERE IS A game that is embedded deep in Lanning’s memory and it’s not one when he coached in any capacity.
It was 2004 and a teenage Lanning was a senior tight end and defensive end for Richmond High School in Missouri. His team was playing local rival Harrisonville in a semifinal matchup, and Lanning can still recall how Harrisonville ran a reverse in the first half for a touchdown that helped its team secure the win.
“After the game, you got your jersey and your pants ’cause it was your senior year, and it’s the end,” Lanning said. “And my pants are still stained with blue from the paint from their field. So yeah, I remember the losses a little more than the wins.”
Lanning’s competitive nature takes on many forms. Plenty of his players have experienced it in practice. Others have felt the force of it while playing cornhole.
“We were at his house eating and he came up to me and he was like, ‘I need a cornhole partner. Can you be my partner?'” sophomore quarterback Dante Moore said. “I was like, ‘I don’t know, Coach, I don’t know if I’m that good.’ He looked at me, he was like, ‘Nah, I don’t want you on my team then.'”
Recently, Gabriel became acquainted with Lanning’s competitive nature on the golf course when the coach invited him out to play nine holes after workouts.
“I started with a par 4. I made par and he doubled bogey, but he got competitive, so s— started getting serious,” Gabriel said. “I messed up beating him on the first hole, I’ll tell you that because then he started playing lights out.”
The dedication to succeed and the sheer distaste for failure that runs through Lanning also runs through this Oregon team. Despite the 22 wins over the past two seasons, the two losses to rival Washington still live inside Lanning’s mind, not as regrets but as learning experiences.
“I think you’re going to not always have success,” Lanning said. “But when you feel like you can control it, that’s the part that always bothers me. If there’s something that I can do to control it to make it a little bit better, that’s the part that I want to improve.”
Despite losing Bo Nix to the NFL, Oregon has improved this offseason. The Ducks are returning several starters on both sides of the ball and have added a slew of talent through the portal, including six former four-star prospects and one five-star. Not only did they get Gabriel through the portal, but also Moore as a potential quarterback of the future to account for one of the five best recruiting classes in 2024. And look beyond this season, the Ducks should have at least one of the 10 best in 2025.
Oregon’s ability to lure talent is about its recent success, it’s about having Lanning at the helm and the ability to win at a high level, but it is also about the program’s resources. It is no secret that 86-year-old Phil Knight wants Oregon to win a championship and has provided the program with ample resources to do just that. Even Lanning’s former boss has chimed in on the topic recently.
“I wish I could get some of that NIL money [Knight’s] giving Dan Lanning,” Smart said at SEC media days.
When asked about Smart’s comments in July, Lanning had his answer ready.
“I’m glad he’s paying attention to what we got going on out here,” Lanning said. “I think that’s great that they think so highly of Nike like we do. I think he’s just poking the bear a little bit.”
As he leans back in his chair inside his office, Lanning’s knowing grin speaks volumes. Even after just two years, Lanning has made a home in and out of the Oregon facility. He isn’t just comfortable here but also content. All of this made it easier for him to not flinch when the Alabama job opened up and his name was immediately thrown around like a football at Thanksgiving. Lanning said he never even entertained it.
“When you make decisions before opportunities arise, I think it’s really easy,” Lanning said. “And my family and I made a decision a long time ago, this will be, for us, the last place that we coach …. That means I have to win.”
Whether he wants it or not, Lanning is now Eugene’s beloved son. Unlike Mario Cristobal and Willie Taggart before him, Lanning has stayed. He hasn’t used Oregon as a launching pad but rather viewed it as a destination.
“He’s wanted it his entire life. That was his mission,” Graham said. “I wouldn’t worry about Dan going anywhere else unless he wins three or four national championships or something and then he might want to go win a Super Bowl.”
Even though he is only two years into his head-coaching career, it’s clear to Lanning, more than anyone, he is exactly where he needs to be. The only thing left to do now is win.
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Rays to play 2025 season at Yankees’ spring field
Published
7 hours agoon
November 14, 2024By
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Associated Press
Nov 14, 2024, 12:13 PM ET
ST. PETERSBURG, Fla. — The Tampa Bay Rays will play their 2025 home games at the New York Yankees‘ nearby spring training ballpark amid uncertainty about the future of hurricane-damaged Tropicana Field, Rays executives told The Associated Press.
Stuart Sternberg, the Rays’ principal owner, said in an interview that Steinbrenner Field in Tampa is the best fit for the team and its fanbase. At about 11,000 seats, it’s also the largest spring training site in Florida.
“It is singularly the best opportunity for our fans to experience 81 games of major league Rays baseball,” Sternberg said. “As difficult as it is to get any of these stadiums up to major league standards, it was the least difficult. You’re going to see Major League Baseball in a small environment.”
Baseball commissioner Rob Manfred said the Rays-Yankees deal is good for the sport and the Tampa Bay region.
“This outcome meets Major League Baseball’s goals that Rays fans will see their team play next season in their home market and that their players can remain home without disruption to their families,” Manfred said in a news release.
The Rays’ home since 1998, the domed Tropicana Field in St. Petersburg, was hit hard by Hurricane Milton on Oct. 9, with most of its fabric roof shredded and water damage inside. The city of St. Petersburg, which owns the Trop, released an assessment of the damage and repair needs that estimated the cost at $55.7 million if it is to be ready for the start of the 2026 season.
The work would have to be approved by the city council, which earlier this year voted for a new $1.3 billion, 30,000-seat stadium to replace Tropicana Field beginning in 2028. The new stadium is part of a much larger urban revitalization project known as the Historic Gas Plant District — named for the Black community that once occupied the 86 acres that includes retail, hotels, office space, a Black history museum, restaurants and bars.
Amid the uncertainty, the Rays know one thing: they will play 2025 in a smallish, outdoor ballpark operated by one of their main American League East rivals. A ballpark with a facade mimicking that of Yankee Stadium in New York and festooned with plaques of Yankees players whose numbers have been retired.
Brian Auld, the Rays co-president, said in an interview that Tampa Bay has to be ready for a regular-season MLB game March 27 against the Colorado Rockies, just three days after the Yankees break training camp.
“There will be a ton of work toward putting in our brand,” Auld said. “The term we like to use for that is “Rayful’ into Steinbrenner Field.”
It will also come with weather challenges in the hot, rainy Florida summer climate the Rays didn’t worry about in their domed ballpark. The Rays averaged about 16,500 fans per game during the 2024 season.
The Yankees will receive about $15 million in revenue for hosting the Rays, a person familiar with the arrangement told The Associated Press, speaking on condition of anonymity because that detail was not announced. The money won’t come from Tampa Bay but from other sources, such as insurance.
Once known as Legends Field, Steinbrenner Field opened in 1996 on Tampa’s north side. It is named for longtime Yankees owner George Steinbrenner, who ran a shipbuilding company in Tampa and died at his home there in 2010. One of his sons, Yankees executive Hal Steinbrenner, was instrumental in getting the deal done with the Rays, Sternberg said.
“This is a heavy lift for the Yankees. This is a huge ask by us and baseball of the Yankees,” Sternberg said. “[Hal Steinbrenner] did not waver for one second. I couldn’t have been more grateful.”
Hal Steinbrenner said in a news release that the Yankees are “happy to extend our hand to the Rays” and noted that the team and his family have “deep roots” in the Tampa Bay area.
“In times like these, rivalry and competition take a back seat to doing what’s right for our community, which is continuing to help families and businesses rebound from the devastation caused by Hurricanes Helene and Milton,” he said.
The Tampa Tarpons, one of the Yankees’ minor league teams, play their home games at Steinbrenner Field during the summer. They will use baseball diamonds elsewhere in the training complex this season.
It’s not the first time a big league team will host regular-season games in a spring training stadium. The Toronto Blue Jays played part of the 2021 season at their facility in Dunedin because of Canadian government restrictions during the COVID-19 pandemic.
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4-star QB 6th to decommit from FSU’s 2025 class
Published
10 hours agoon
November 14, 2024By
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Eli Lederman, ESPN Staff WriterNov 14, 2024, 09:37 AM ET
Close- Eli Lederman covers college football and recruiting for ESPN.com. He joined ESPN in 2024 after covering the University of Oklahoma for Sellout Crowd and the Tulsa World.
Four-star Florida State quarterback pledge Tramell Jones pulled his commitment from the Seminoles Thursday morning, marking the sixth departure from Mike Norvell’s 2025 class across the program’s 1-9 start to the regular season this fall.
Jones, a 6-foot, 190-pound passer from Jacksonville, Florida, is ESPN’s ninth-ranked dual-threat quarterback prospect in the 2025 cycle. The longest-tenured member of Florida State’s 2025 class, Jones’ decommitment arrives five days after Norvell fired three members of his coaching staff on Sunday following the program’s 52-3 defeat at Notre Dame, headlined by the exit of offensive coordinator and offensive line coach Alex Atkins.
Jones’ move represents the latest blow to a Seminoles’ class that’s taken a series of hits this fall as Florida State has followed its 13-1 in 2023 with a disastrous 2024 campaign. A previous lynchpin in the program’s 2025 class, Jones follows ESPN 300 prospects Myron Charles, Javion Hilson, Malik Clark, Daylan McCutcheon and CJ Wiley among the top recruits who have left Norvell’s incoming class since the Seminoles’ Aug. 24 season opener. Jones’ exit leaves Florida State with 12 prospects left committed in 2025, including five ESPN 300 pledges led by five-star offensive tackle Solomon Thomas, ESPN’s No. 13 overall prospect in the 2025 cycle.
Florida State sat at No. 37 in ESPN’s class rankings in 2025 prior to Jones’ decommitment Thursday with further movement expected out of the Seminoles’ class in the coming weeks.
With his recruitment reopened, Jones stands as one of the top uncommitted quarterbacks in the final weeks of the 2025 cycle. A four-year starter at Florida’s Mandarin High School, Florida has remained in contact with Jones this fall, and sources within the Gators’ program are optimistic that Florida will ultimately land Jones in the final weeks of the cycle following the school’s decision to keep Billy Napier as head coach beyond 2024.
Florida is set to host a series of high-profile recruits when the Gators host LSU at 3:30 p.m. on ABC Saturday afternoon. Florida State is off in Week 12 before a Nov. 23 visit from Charleston Southern.
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Even in death, college football fans want to be at their favorite stadiums
Published
12 hours agoon
November 14, 2024By
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Andrea Adelson, ESPN Senior WriterNov 14, 2024, 07:08 AM ET
Close- ACC reporter.
- Joined ESPN.com in 2010.
- Graduate of the University of Florida.
BARBARA WEITZ SAT at a Nebraska Board of Regents meeting over the summer, when thinking about ways to generate revenue to help mitigate recent university budget cuts, she blurted out an idea.
Without much thought or research, Weitz wondered aloud whether passionate Nebraska fans would pay money to have cremated remains stored in a columbarium, a standalone structure with cubbies that house said remains. Even better, with a grass field set to be installed at Memorial Stadium in 2026, what if that columbarium was built underneath the football field as part of the renovations?
“Then grandma or grandpa or sister or brother could be a Husker supporter forever,” Weitz said.
Her fellow regents laughed her out of the room. Nobody liked the thought of games being played above a de facto burial ground. The idea was impractical, anyway. If the columbarium was built under the field, they would also have to construct an underground entrance for people to be able to visit, and how exactly would that work?
Feeling discouraged, Weitz went about her other work. But the meeting was public, and soon a newspaper article published her idea. Before long, the emails started coming in. One came from a casket company in Kansas interested in helping make the hypothetical columbarium. Another came from a company in Ireland claiming to have done a similar thing already, for a rugby and soccer club in the United Kingdom. She also learned someone was trying to build a columbarium in South Carolina, near Williams-Brice Stadium, but plans had stalled.
The idea gained enough traction that at a recent football game, someone stopped Weitz and said that if the columbarium became a reality, she would pay to have her husband’s ashes housed there. Weitz got plenty of emails from Cornhusker fans to the same effect.
When she blurted out her idea, Weitz did not know just how often fans spread the cremated remains of their friends and loved ones at college football venues across the country, mostly without permission. Choice Mutual, a company that offers insurance policies to cover end-of-life expenses, conducted a survey that asked Americans where they would want their ashes spread if they choose to be cremated.
The survey, published in July, listed the top choice in all 50 states. Sports venues topped the list in 11, including college football stadiums in Arkansas, Idaho, Michigan, North Carolina, Oklahoma and Wisconsin. Anthony Martin, owner and CEO of Choice Mutual, said in an email, “We were definitely surprised by the prevalence of sporting venues as the target. We assumed some sporting venues would show up, but not this many.”
“Let’s face it. Fan is short for fanatic,” said Chris Gerbasi, who helped spread the remains of his good friend, John Burr, at Michigan Stadium in 2005. “He was a diehard, no pun intended. It made perfect sense for him to want his ashes to be on the field. He would have laughed his ass off at us being able to achieve that.”
MOST SCHOOLS HAVE strict rules prohibiting the spreading of ashes onto playing surfaces, both to preserve the grass and also simply to limit trespassing. But when you are determined to complete a final wish, you simply find a way.
Like Gerbasi did. He and three others set out for Michigan Stadium in July 2005 to honor Burr, who died following complications from an accident at age 41. Gerbasi and Burr attended Michigan together in the 1980s and went to the 1998 Rose Bowl that clinched a national championship season for the Wolverines.
When Gerbasi was a student, Michigan Stadium was easy to enter. But when he and his companions arrived that summer night, they encountered one locked gate after another. They walked around the stadium, until, Gerbasi says, “It was almost like seeing the light.”
A bright light was coming from the east side of the stadium, where renovations were underway. They saw a way in, down the ramp where players walk from the locker room to the field, and made their way to the 50-yard line.
“I don’t get excited about too many things, but it was awe-inspiring for the four of us to be standing on the 50-yard line in an empty Michigan Stadium,” Gerbasi said.
Burr’s brother handed Gerbasi a bag with the ashes.
“There just happened to be a little gust of wind, and I kind of twirled the bag in the air a little bit, and all the ashes flew out, and the wind caught ’em, and they flew down the field,” Gerbasi said. “Looking back on it now, it was cool as hell. It was like somebody opened up this door for us.”
Parker Hollowell had a similar idea for his dad, Dean Hollowell, who died in 2015 following a car accident at age 72. Dean was a lifelong Ole Miss fan and took Parker to games his entire life. When his stepmom said his father was going to be cremated, Parker knew what he needed to do.
He waited until dusk one night in August that year and drove to Vaught-Hemingway Stadium, the place where he and his dad shared so many memories. A new field was being put in, and though workers were still around, nobody said a word to Hollowell and a friend as they made their way to the 50-yard line.
Hollowell said a few words to his dad as he spread the ashes, while his friend took a video.
“I thought it was a tribute to my dad,” Hollowell said. “That was our life, that’s what we’ve done as a family. Period. Now my dad’s got a 50-yard line seat. He’s right there with me when I go to games. I don’t see anything wrong with it.”
Having done it for his dad, Hollowell now has his final resting spot picked out.
“I am going to ask my son to put me in the end zone. Where Tre Harris scored on LSU [last year],” Hollowell said.
Ann and her husband, Johnny, had a similar conversation at their dinner table in North Carolina years ago. Ann, who asked that her last name not be used, cannot remember how they got on the topic, but they started discussing where they wanted to be buried.
Johnny asked to be cremated and have his ashes scattered in three spots. First, the beach. Easy enough.
Second, Carter-Finley Stadium, home to his beloved NC State Wolfpack. Slightly more challenging, but OK.
And, if possible, Kenan Stadium, home to North Carolina, as friend Theo Manos recalled, “so he could haunt those MFers.”
“I thought he was kidding,” Ann said. “But then I realized he was serious.”
Ann figured she would have time to plan it all out. But Johnny died unexpectedly at age 52 in 2007. A “total shock,” Ann said.
She decided she would sprinkle his ashes in their longtime tailgating spot outside Carter-Finley, a picturesque area filled with trees. They had a tight-knit tailgating group — some had been friends with Johnny since kindergarten. On the day they spread his ashes, they formed a circle, said a few prayers and then Ann placed his remains near a spruce tree.
The spot has become a resting place for several others, including their son, Allen, who died in 2017. “I thought that was a good sentimental thing to do,” Ann said. Johnny’s sister, Nancy, also has some of her remains there, as well as another tailgater in their group.
She noted the spruce tree “shot up out of nowhere” after placing Johnny there. But last year, NC State cut down many trees in their tailgating area — including that beloved spruce. Ann still brings flowers to every home game and places them on the spot where she sprinkled the remains of her husband and son. The group pours a drink on the ashes and says, “Here’s to you, Johnny.”
As for Kenan Stadium, let’s just say Johnny did make his way onto the field. How and when, well, Ann says that must remain a mystery. But it should be noted NC State is 6-2 in Chapel Hill since Johnny died.
WHEN JASON FAIRES was in his first year as Oklahoma director of athletic fields and grounds in 2019, he spotted a man in the south end zone holding a paper grocery bag, without gloves on, taking handfuls of something unidentifiable and dropping it on the ground.
“I start to lose it, and ‘I’m like, ‘What the hell are you doing?'” said Faires, now golf course superintendent at Dornick Hills Country Club in Ardmore, Oklahoma. “He goes, ‘This is my dad. Just spreading his ashes out here, like he wanted me to.’ I’m like, ‘Did you get permission to do this?’ He didn’t think he needed permission, and he’s just dropping clumps. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen ashes. It’s not just ashes, it’s frickin’ bone and everything.
“So out of respect for him, I said, ‘OK.’ As soon as he left, I had to go out there and kick him around, spread him out. I felt weird doing that. I started telling that story at a meeting, and they’re like, ‘Oh yeah, that happens a lot.'”
Plenty of field managers across conferences have stories about encountering fans evading gates, waiting out security personnel or downright trespassing in their quest to make it onto the field to spread ashes. While it is not technically illegal to scatter ashes, most states require permission be granted if remains will be spread on private property — like football stadiums — or on public property or national parks. Some states require a permit to spread ashes in public areas.
“When I worked at LSU in 2007, it was about 2:30 in the morning after the Virginia Tech game and we saw someone leaning up against the goal post,” said Brandon Hardin, now the superintendent of sports turf at Mississippi State. “We were like, ‘Hey, what’s this guy doing?’ He had a book in his hand, and he opened it and dumped ashes out on the ground and had his moment. Then he turned around and walked off. Never saw him again.”
At Texas A&M, too, where Nick McKenna serves as assistant athletics director of sports fields. He recalled the time the Yell Leaders at Texas A&M had a former leader’s ashes spread at Kyle Field without permission, upsetting their longtime facility manager.
“So he had the head field manager go out, vacuum them up, put them in a jar, and he took them to the Yell Leader and said, “Y’all left someone out there on the field the other day. Just wanted to return him to you,” McKenna said.
Another time, someone had spread ashes in the outfield before a baseball game.
“I remember having to talk with our center fielder because there was this cloud ring of remains,” McKenna said. “He was like, what in the heck? I was like, ‘You’re out there basically playing in a ring of death.'”
As all three turf managers explained, fans are unaware of how much goes into caring for the fields across all their athletics venues. That includes resodding the fields after a set amount of time. Oklahoma, for example, resodded the field last summer. Texas A&M does it every 12 to 15 years.
“So the majority of these relatives who have been spread on that field are down on the left side of the driving range at the OU golf course because that’s where all the material goes when we redo the field,” Faires said. “You don’t say that or anything, but you kind of feel bad for them.”
When grounds crews see ashes that have been left on a field, they quickly work to limit the damage. The ashes are either vacuumed up or blown around with a backpack blower. Some will run water through them to flush them through. What grounds crews want to avoid is their sophisticated and expensive lawn mowers picking up bone fragments, which could damage the equipment.
Hardin says he has gained a newfound perspective on spreading ashes to fulfill a loved ones’ request, after he did it for his dad last November in the Arkansas mountains.
“It’s very special to the person that does it, so we try to be very understanding,” Hardin said. “We tell people no, and then they still find a way to do it, because it was somebody’s last wish. People need that closure.
“It’s not going to hurt the grass, but if you ask certain people within organizations or schools, it gives you the heebie-jeebies knowing that it’s there and visible.”
That makes the columbarium idea all the more appealing to Weitz. She has tried to brainstorm other ideas than having it under the field — could it be outside the stadium? In the tunnel leading to the field?
“These responses I got after the meeting said to me this is creative and there are ways to do these things,” Weitz said. “So it really encouraged me in a lot of ways, but I haven’t come up with any new ideas.”
Putting a columbarium under the field might not be practical, but burial grounds for mascots do exist both inside and outside stadiums. In fact, Mex, a brindle bulldog who was Oklahoma’s mascot in the 1920s, is buried in a casket under the football stadium. Bully I, Mississippi State’s first mascot, is buried on stadium grounds. Other Bully mascots have had their ashes spread on the football field.
Texas A&M has a burial ground for its Reveille mascots on the north end of Kyle Field. A statue of the SMU mascot, Peruna, is on the burial site of Peruna I outside Ford Stadium. Sanford Stadium has a mausoleum dedicated to its UGA mascots.
McKenna remembers reading about Weitz and her columbarium idea over the summer.
“I don’t know where you would put it logistically, but as somebody who’s encountered people spreading ashes and understands how often it happens and the nuances, it’s not the worst idea in the world,” he said.
Weitz will keep thinking about it. Others will keep finding ways to honor their loved ones and their passion for college football. Loved ones such as Fred “The Head” Miller, who once asked former Florida State alumni association president Jim Melton if his head could be buried underneath the Seminole logo at midfield.
“True story,” Melton says.
Miller played fullback at Florida State from 1973-76 and then became the ultimate super fan — painting the Seminoles logo on his bald head for every home game, beginning in 1981. Hence his nickname.
He died in 1992 at age 38 of a heart attack and was cremated. Miller asked his family to scatter his ashes at Doak Campbell Stadium.
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