A dose of reality

Sporting News, The, Sept 19, 1994 by Michael Bradley

In the west end zone, Stowers empties the jug. Players stick hands, helmets and feet in the stream of water, hoping for some mystical edge over the Hurricanes. "It's good to the last drop," Stowers says to raucous cheers. After the ceremony, Stowers addresses the team.

"Welcome to the Orange Bowl," he says. "This is about as historical as any football stadium in the country. Coach Bryant walked the sidelines. The Dolphins played here -- Csonka, Kiick and Warfield. Super Bowls were played here, and last year the national championship was here. It's a great arena, and I can't think of a better place to play a football game.

"We can make history here tomorrow. I'm asking you to make that smooth stone a bull's-eye."

Gameday: 9:30 a.m. Tommy Spangler's defensive revival meeting begins in the Dolphins room of the Holiday Inn-Joe Robbie Stadium. As the video projector clicks back and forth, Spangler fires questions at his players, critiques practice footage and plays from last year. Earlier in the morning, Spangler was particularly interested in some quotes in the Miami Herald from Hurricanes quarterback Frank Costa about how he had taken last year's game lightly and that watching film of it turned his stomach. He promises a different scenario this time. "I guess we don't need to meet now that Costa's going to have a good game," Spangler announces to the coaches. A Miami journalist has written that Georgia Southern "sounds more like a railroad than a football team." Stowers says, "Last year, we were tackling dummies; this year, we're a railroad."

The defensive meeting is five minutes old, and Spangler is already in fourth gear. The man who once told a self-promoting player that he was "all Huey and no dadgum Dewey" gives the equivalent of a 30 minute pep talk six hours before the game. "Costa says he gets sick when he watches film of last year's game," Spangler shouts. "So do I. We made so many mistakes last year. If we want to beat Miami, we can do it." After going through a variety of complicated secondary coverages, Spangler makes a final point.

"I gotta believe we're going to outhit their asses, but don't take that for granted," he says in a sharp, loud voice. "How about us having a say in the game? Just because Costa says he's going to play better, does that mean he has to?"

A fat man in a panama hat leans over the railing near the visitors' locker room 90 minutes before the game and hollers at GSU junior offensive tackle Stacy Moses, who is 5 feet 11, 242 pounds. "Hey, 77, did you hear? Rusty Medearis is back in town." Medearis, who suffered a severe knee injury two years ago against Arizona on the same Orange Bowl turf, was granted a sixth year of eligibility and is starting at defensive end. Moses doesn't even look at the man in the stands.

There is little talk among the players, who have been largely silent since a funereal team luncheon at noon. Stowers works some with the fullbacks -- he also coaches the position -- but mostly prowls the sidelines, eating a big bag of peanuts, amazed that it costs $3.50. As Stowers surveys the Orange Bowl, which will be about 20,000 fans short of a sellout, he isn't impressed. "This isn't intimidating," he says. "I've played at Legion Field with Bear Bryant on the other sideline."