Chapter 16
Vee
The countdown to a kickoff truly began seven days before game day.
In the case of today’s game, the Tennessee Titans’ equipment manager collaborated a week before with the Coopers’ coordinator to schedule the team’s arrival to Crystal Light Stadium.
Much of the run-up to the game-day schedule was determined by the NFL and not up for debate.
Three days before, the playing field was tested and certified to comply with the NFL requirements on hardness, depth, evenness, and other specifics.
Twenty-four hours before kickoff, all game officials were required to be in Lexington.
If the visiting team was traveling by airplane, they must be in the host city no less than eighteen hours before game time.
The real countdown began four hours before kickoff.
By nine o’clock a.m., Crystal Light Stadium was a beehive of activity.
As vice president of stadium operations, I had a team of football operations professionals that oversaw the specifics.
From the owner’s suite high in the end zone, the different operations took on the appearance of a finely choreographed dance.
Today, I was witnessing the performance from the sidelines and in awe of our ops team.
Outside the stadium, the parking lots opened for tailgating.
Fans began lining up to enter as much as six hours prior to game time.
Inside, at the four-hour mark, the field was once again inspected, thoroughly walked to determine if it still complied with NFL regulations.
Local game-day assistants arrived and began setting up their equipment and systems. The wireless communication between coaches and players (C2P) was assessed.
Field technicians set up field-monitor systems. It took hundreds of people behind the scenes to pull off a precisely timed kickoff.
Two hours and fifteen minutes prior to play, each team provided twelve primary and twelve backup like-new Wilson official NFL footballs to the referee for inspection.
Kicking balls received directly from Wilson Sporting Goods were also available to be inspected by one representative from each team.
All the balls contained a coin-sized RFID chip that transmitted data on the ball’s location, speed, spin, and trajectory.
That information was used for broadcasting and later for analytics.
Two hours before, the gates to Crystal Light Stadium opened, allowing people inside.
Our ushers were not only monitoring each guest, but making sure each attendee felt appreciated, passing out buttons to first-time visitors and aiding with questions.
At the same time, final testing was done with each team’s equipment managers to assure the C2P systems were working properly.
Nothing was overlooked.
Communication between all medical staff—local league-appointed neurotrauma consultants, airway management physician, emergency response physician, and athletic trainer spotters—was evaluated.
The AT spotters were certified athletic trainers stationed in the stadium booth to help each team’s medical staff spot potential concussion or other head and neck injuries.
All printing and Microsoft Surface tablets were in place on the sidelines.
An hour and forty minutes prior to kickoff was the security meeting, attended by the referee, league and team security representatives, NFL football operations representative, stadium security, local senior public safety official, and often an FBI representative.
Keeping our fans safe was a top priority.
Ninety minutes prior to kickoff, there was an officiating meeting that included both teams’ PR directors, sideline communications, NFL sideline TV coordinator, NFL football operations representative, the TV network representative, the network’s on-field communications coordinator, and the seven-person officiating team.
During this meeting, broadcast policies and procedures were discussed.
Game Day Administration Reports—including each team’s inactive list, players designated to have C2P components in their helmets, and players/coaches wearing microphones—were presented.
Watches were also synchronized—the countdown was continuing.
By one hour before kickoff, the roof at Crystal Light Stadium was either opened or closed; it couldn’t change after that deadline.
Today, it was open. This was also the time when both teams were allowed onto the field for warm-up and practice.
Officials also entered the field. Each team had half the field for this workout.
If the entire process was a symphony, at this point, the conductor would increase the tempo, bringing the fever within the stadium to the much-anticipated crescendo.
In-house football ops working in tandem with the NFL, ESPN, or whichever broadcasting system, and the dozens of coaches, nearly a hundred players, worked tirelessly to give the effortless appearance to the seventy thousand fans in the stadium as well as the hundreds of thousands of TV viewers.
It was truly a scripted musical composition.
As the vice president of stadium operations, I had complete faith in my team. Today’s nerves weren’t due to the climactic lead-up. They were tightening my skin and increasing my rapid heartbeat due to my location—not safely in the family suite but on the sideline, in the middle of the mayhem.
This was our first regular season game. During the preseason, the Coopers won two of our three games. A sold-out crowd was filling Crystal Light Stadium in anticipation of today’s game against the Titans.
Our roster was now down to the mandatory forty-eight active players, with sixteen players on the practice squad. We had a solid team. While Fin received playing time during preseason, now was the time for Troy Dennison to shine.
The view of Crystal Light from the sideline was completely different than it was up in the family suite. I peered upward, squinting through my sunglasses as a sea of amber filled the seats. Lexington’s blue sky shone above the stadium through the opened roof.
At the one-hour mark while the team was out on the field warming up, I asked Drew my nagging question. “Are you sure I won’t be in the way?”
“Vee, you’ve been to every offense practice session for the last two weeks.
You’ve heard the plays. You know what’s supposed to happen.
Unlike practice, the real game has obstacles.
Listen when I call the plays. Then watch to see if they’re played out.
If they are, notice what went right. If they’re not, figure out where they went wrong.
” His cheeks rose with a smile. “It’s a whole new world with an opposing team, a packed stadium, and an officiating crew. ”
“Okay. Thank you.”
“Make notes. There’s no time to discuss during the game. Tomorrow we’ll talk about what you saw.”
I returned his smile. “Drew, thank you for being welcoming to me. You remind me of Roy Everington. He tried to include me.”
“Best compliment I’ve heard today.” He patted my shoulder.
Standing behind the white paint, I walked up and down the field, noticing the different team of technicians, identified by the color of their hats. Yellow, orange, purple, blue, and gray were hurriedly doing their assigned tasks.
The suspense grew as pregame announcements came over the PA system.
The countdown clock was ticking as the visiting Tennessee Titans took the field.
High above, the seats were filled and fans were screaming.
The PA system roared with AC/DC Thunderstruck as fireworks shot from the four corners of the stadium.
Our home-team announcer, the Big Hurt, spoke in his signature commanding tone. “Ladies and gentlemen, your Lexington Coopers.”
Applause and cheering erupted, the decibels reaching a fevered pitch.
My pulse increased as fog emanated from the dark tunnel, and the Coopers, dressed in their amber game-day jerseys, ran onto the field.
The special effects manufactured by strobing lights and a fog machine created the appearance of crackling electricity around the players.
The Big Hurt named the starting offense player by player, including their college affiliation, and then the same for the starting defense.
Goose bumps prickled my skin as the excitement built. I wasn’t sure why I’d never thought to be on the sidelines before, but the thrill made me wonder if I could go back to the family suite, six stories above.
Troy Dennison was out on the field with Kai Flores, our cornerback, and two Titans players for the coin toss. The referee’s voice billowed as the image of the five people filled the jumbotron.
“As the visiting team,” the head official said to the Titans’ quarterback, “you get to choose heads or tails.”
“We choose heads.”
The referee tossed the coin into the air, allowing it to land on the field. “Tails.” He turned to Troy. “What do you want to do?”
“We’ll defer.”
The referee repeated Troy’s answer for the crowd to hear. “The Coopers will defer.”
More screams and cheers reverberate throughout the stadium.
The Coopers’ kicking team would be on the field first. I looked down at my watch as the special team came forward. It was exactly 12:59 p.m. The ops team came through.
Now was time for the football players to show the world we were contenders. The clock struck one o’clock p.m. and our kicker sent the football into the air. The Titans signaled for a fair catch.
It was time for our defense to take the field.
The defensive coordinator’s calls came through my earpiece. Darius’s calls weren’t all that different from Drew’s. While I didn’t have time to decipher their meaning, the language and cadence were similar. I soon realized his calls often changed once he saw the Titan offense lined up.
Four and out.
The Titans punted.
Time for our offense.
From my point of view, I saw Fin slap Troy’s shoulder pad as Troy ran onto the field.
A smile curled my lips. While I hadn’t wanted Fin to be a part of the Coopers, maybe I’d been wrong. Maybe Fin truly could be happy as a mentor to Troy and playing second string.
The first half ended with the Coopers up seventeen to ten.
We were the first team to receive the ball as the second half began. A high kick, and our special teams ran the ball to the Coopers’ forty-two-yard line. Fantastic field position as our offense took the field.
Drew’s call came through loud and clear.
I watched as the ball was snapped. Troy faked a handoff to the fullback Treshawn Morgan. Our running back, Dijon Ortiz, also tucked a make-believe ball. The two backs took off, decoys. Troy stepped back, reading his receivers.
The defense had all the possible receivers covered.
Tucking the ball, Troy ran forward. The defense was closing in.
Troy slid, getting the Coopers near seven yards on the play.
The crowd cheered.
A collective gasp filled the air as the Titans’ linebacker charged, plowing into Troy after he was already in his slide.
“Late hit,” the angry call came from the players on the sideline.
Flags flew.
The referees blew their whistles. My heart pounded in my chest.
Troy was still down.
“Troy, get up,” I whispered as I turned my attention to the replay on the jumbotron.
It showed what we’d all witnessed; Troy ran and slid.
The linebacker came flying, hitting Troy with a forearm to the head and neck, their helmets colliding as Troy’s neck snapped forward, before snapping back and landing hard on the turf.
The Coopers’ players on the sideline were furious. The coaching team and assistants worked to keep the enraged teammates from entering the field.
Tilson and Drew ran with the medical team to Troy.
Troy was still down.