A Feeling I've Had Since 60 Years Ago

After more twists and turns than I cared to count, college life had finally begun.

August 2nd — the first official team practice. August 20th — the first class of the fall semester.

No welcome week. No parties. A college experience that couldn't have dreamed of such things. But I'd learned to be content with what we had.

Beep—

"Come in."

Beep—

"Come in."

Today was exactly one week before the season opener.

We began our regular meeting.

Scenes like this, walking into the main conference room—

Mm—

they'd become completely routine by now.

"Z."

"?"

"You need to sanitize your hands."

"Oh, right."

"How do you forget every single time?"

"Fuck, Man— I hate doing this every damn time."

Temperature check just short of the entrance. Hand sanitizer before stepping into the meeting room. Masks, of course, were mandatory. And the seats were spaced about a meter apart.

"Alright—! Everyone, listen up!!"

The NCAA D1 football season normally has what's called Week 0 — a handful of marquee matchups scheduled before the nation's college teams kick off in Week 1, serving as de facto season openers.

We were supposed to be part of that too. The Chick-Fil-A Kickoff Game. Our opponent: Virginia.

But as everyone knows, the SEC had decided to play only conference opponents this season, so the matchup against Virginia — an ACC team — was canceled outright. Every other kickoff game went the same way. Week 0 itself had simply ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠vanished.

So our first game would come in SEC's Week 1 — next Saturday.

"Our first game is Arkansas!"

"…."

"…."

"They're a good team! But we're a damn good team too! Do you understand what I'm saying?! We need to skin them alive! That said— don't get careless! Arkansas was terrible last year, but they made meaningful upgrades this offseason! Stay sharp! First, the starting lineup!"

Unlike just about every other team sport, football names its starters a full week in advance. There are two big reasons for ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that.

First — it doesn't really matter.

The only position whose starter genuinely matters is the quarterback, and every college program in the country had already announced their starting QB. Whether it's NCAA D1 or the NFL, there's always an official announcement day for the starting quarterback.

Anyway. The reason the rest of the lineup carries little weight is that the personnel changes on every single down.

So why announce starters at all? Because of the second reason.

Second — the game plan is built around the starting lineup.

The head coach sets the overall direction, sure, but just as important is the individual personnel. Some players are weak against a left tackle. Some the opposite. Once the foundational scheme is chosen based on the opponent, you pick your starters. Then you build the practice plan. And then—

the week begins.

"Alright! Listen closely!"

Defensive coordinator and outside linebackers coach. And the head coach's right hand.

From the mouth of Coach Dan Lanning, the starting lineup poured out.

Once the announcement wrapped up, Coach Kirby Smart stepped to the front.

"It's been a hard stretch."

That it truly had.

Some conferences announced they would play a normal season; a few others made it known they were prepared to scrap it entirely. The Big Ten, facing a catastrophic revenue hit from losing its non-conference games, announced a postponement, took a public beating for it, and then walked the decision back.

Protocols were also drawn up to guard against COVID's signature cardiovascular complications, and we received training on all of it. On top of that, several states — Georgia among them — made "no-fan games" a condition for resuming the football season.

The school pushed back hard, though, and families were allowed in to cheer. Georgia residents only.

Disappointing. But we swallowed it. Playing football was what mattered.

"But we endured. I am proud of you. Through the hardship of COVID, you've kept football and class side by side. Every one of you skipping lectures is already on my radar! Understand this — if the academics slip, you will not play for this team either! You are students before you are football players! Don't forget the school is the one paying your scholarships! Schedules will be communicated by email! Dismissed!"

The meeting ended, and dismissal started from the back row forward.

From now until tomorrow, we rested. Monday and Tuesday we'd build our bodies; from Wednesday, tactical training. Meetings sprinkled throughout.

And among all the players, I was the busiest.

The curse of being the starting quarterback.

From waking at 4:50 in the morning to lights-out at 8:40 in the evening — you could assume there wasn't a single spare minute. If I wasn't training, I was in a meeting. If not that, I was buried in the Play Book.

I also helped my teammates study their playbooks.

"What are you doing this weekend?"

"Doing? Gonna grind the PlayStation. You?"

"Studying."

"You know what's funny? When I was a kid I actually wanted to become a quarterback. Now I've got none of that feeling left."

"I've heard that line about a hundred times."

Of every athlete on the face of the earth, the quarterback is probably the busiest.

Even right now—

"Moi."

"Yes, Sir."

"See you on Zoom in ten minutes."

"…Yes, Sir."

Haah—

See?

"Man— this old man's about to bolt on us again."

"You're joining me for dinner later, right?"

"We'll see. You know Martina? She asked me to walk around campus with her. Sorry, but I can't hang."

"Damn-it. Fantastic."

"Just count on the great quarterback, heh heh heh."

"Get out of my face."

Online, my life looked impossibly glamorous. In reality, I was a slave to the work.

Oh, right.

Thanks to the fallout from #WeWantToPlayFB, I'd gotten mutual follows with a pile of NFL stars — all of them people who'd backed me. Beyond that, famous Hollywood actors and singers sent me DMs saying they were rooting for me.

And one more important thing.

NIL had broken loose.

On September 1st, the U.S. Supreme Court confirmed the NCAA's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠violation of antitrust law and ordered it to create new rules guaranteeing player image rights from February 1st, 2021. The court set a deadline of June 30th, so it looked like NCAA athletes' name, image, and likeness rights would be protected starting July 1st of next year.

Naturally, the NCAA — already reeling from COVID — sniped at the Supreme Court, calling it cowardly. But the Court, with plenty of politicians behind it, essentially answered: Don't like it? Come at us again.

Personally, I thought the Supreme Court timed it deliberately. You take down your enemy when they're in chaos. That's when you finish them.

Click.

The moment I got back to my room, I opened my laptop.

"I'm back."

— Good. About the tactics we're using against Arkansas…

"…."

Coach Todd Monken.

He liked me a little too much.

Obviously flattering, but sometimes I just wanted to rest.

Still, I knew even that was a luxury. Plenty of people were gunning for my spot. One wrong stumble, and the starting job gets handed over on the spot.

It was different from high school. Everyone here is too good. This is the D1 stage only one percent ever reach. It's only natural.

— What do you think?

"George will be more comfortable running the back-side route."

— Not a slant?

"Arkansas' right corner has good closing burst, but he plays a little underneath."

— Hmm. We'll adjust that part.

"Yes, Sir. And also…"

The stage where tactics take shape. Until rest came—

there was still a little time left.

(Reece Davis) — ESPN Host

"Welcome to College Football. The sixth week of the season is upon us. Everyone's been waiting for today — because it's the first game week of the SEC. We finally get to watch the teams everyone's been curious about: Alabama, Georgia, LSU, Florida, Texas. As always, I'm here with my friends — delighted to have Desmond Howard, David Pollack, Kirk Herbstreit, and Lee Corso with me. I'm Reece Davis."

(Reece Davis)

"We can't put this off any longer. Dwayne Moi Stone! We Want To Play Foot Ball!! That hashtag is what made football happen in the age of COVID. It led nothing less than a nationwide movement. And it's Stone's Georgia that meets Arkansas today."

(Desmond Howard) — ESPN Analyst

"I genuinely can't wait. All of their practices were closed this year, so there's not much information out there — but I do know Georgia's coaches are buzzing with excitement. A lot of people are wondering whether this kid can become the next Trevor Lawrence. But as you know, he's already beaten Trevor Lawrence once."

(Reece Davis)

"You're referring to the 2018 U.S. Army All-American Bowl. It's on your screen right now — and believe it or not, that was a full three years ago. A sophomore became the best player on the field in a high school all-star game stacked with seniors. Herbie?"

(Kirk Herbstreit) — ESPN Analyst

"He's a traditional quarterback. I'll guarantee you this — in the last twenty years, I haven't seen a high school quarterback play better than this kid. Strong arm, field vision, decision-making, excellence. I won't promise he'll outplay Trevor Lawrence right away, but there's no doubt he'll be a rival."

(Reece Davis)

"Whoa—wow. Did everyone hear that? Herbie just complimented a freshman quarterback."

(Kirk Herbstreit)

"What's the matter with you people? I'm a generous man!"

(Reece Davis)

"Yeah, right, Herbie. Anyway — today, everybody will want to watch Dwayne Moi Stone play. CBS is going to pull monster ratings. There's a real chance this becomes the highest-rated SEC season opener ever. That's how much national attention this Georgia home game is drawing. Now—"

September 26th, 2020. Athens, Georgia. University of Georgia. Sanford Stadium.

It would probably feel strange. Playing football in a stadium that was completely empty.

But we had to get used to it. It would be this way all season.

Still, we'd prepared in our own way. We followed the health protocols set by the government and the NCAA to the letter, and took the testing — more than four times a day — seriously.

If there was one thing I regretted, it was this: the traditions had been cut too.

No Dawg Walk — the march from near the Tate Student Center through the crowd of fans and the marching band. No hearing the call of "How 'bout them Dawgs."

No fans singing Glory, Glory or Hail to Georgia either, and no roaring cheers to greet us as we took the field.

Damn it.

I'd really been looking forward to that.

"Everyone, listen up!!"

"…."

"…."

As I swallowed my disappointment and sat at my locker getting ready, the head coach appeared with his booming voice.

"There are no fans in the stands! But remember — they are watching us! Nothing changes the fact that we play for them! And for your futures too! Do you understand what I'm saying?! From today on, you play football for the fans, for your families, and for your futures! Now go out there and make it something beautiful! Moi."

"Alright, let's go! On three, we win! One, two, three!!"

"WIN!!"

I returned to my spot and pulled my helmet on, then slapped it twice with both palms.

My locker was covered in photos. All taken before I came to the mainland.

Family. Friends.

They were probably all watching this game on TV right now. My mom's restaurant would be packed wall to wall today.

I hadn't checked my messages. But it was obvious, wasn't it.

Breathe in the good.

"Sss—hh."

Breathe out the bad.

"Whew—"

As I took my usual deep breath, Zamir came over.

"Don't tell me you're nervous?"

"Fuck, no."

"Keh-keh. Let's Go, Man—"

"Yeah."

It was finally time to leave the locker room.

"COME ON-!!!"

"LET'S GO!!!!"

Battle cries thundered down the corridor, and I took my place at the very back, watching my teammates' backs.

Georgia has a tradition: the head coach leads the march at the very front, with the captain directly behind him.

From up ahead, Jamaree's voice rang out.

"ALL DAWGS--!!!!"

"UGA-!!!!"

"LET'S WALK--!!!!"

The white fluorescent lights lining the corridor went dark, and red backlighting flickered to life across the black walls. Smog machines on either side belched out fog. From somewhere ahead drifted the trumpet call of The Battle Hymn of the Bulldog Nation.

By tradition, Georgia's march is not a loud one. Quiet. Solemn. Sacred.

The moment the hymn ended, we stopped at the mouth of the tunnel, and the stadium announcer introduced us.

【"Ladies and gentlemen — this is! Your 2020 Georgia Bulldogs football team--!!"】

Only now did we unleash the energy we'd been holding in the tunnel.

Shouts that bordered on animal screams. Incomprehensible roars burst from every throat.

I waited in place until the teammates ahead of me had pulled far enough ahead, then after a moment slapped my helmet twice with both palms and charged hard onto the field.

Recorded crowd noise blared from the stadium speakers. Disappointing — but it would have to do.

Running a long, diagonal line across the field, I sprinted all the way to the far goalpost.

(Brad Nessler) — CBS Play-by-Play

"Here he is, taking the field at last— Dwayne Moi Stone! The No. 01 player of the 2020 class, and the only 6-Star 110-grade prospect in the history of the sport. Whether that evaluation was deserved — by the end of today, the whole nation will know."

(Gary Danielson) — CBS Analyst

"An enormous weight sits on that young quarterback's shoulders, Brad. The level of national attention on him is NFL superstar tier. What's more, this kid was born in December of 2001. He's a full year younger than his peers. That makes how he handles pressure all the more important."

(Brad Nessler)

"Younger than a typical freshman aside, this quarterback is enormous. Six-foot-five-and-a-half, 197 centimeters, at 226 pounds — 102.5 kilograms. And that's after trimming some weight, apparently."

(Gary Danielson)

"He's been billed as big, fast, and physical all at once. But that's all high school talk, Brad. To earn the same reputation at the college level, he's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠got plenty left to prove."

After sprinting all the way to my mark, I turned and shouted at the empty stands.

"LET'S GO-!!!"

This had been my routine since high school.

Then I clapped my hands together hard, sprinted back, and returned to the bench.

And then — quarterback mode, engaged.

"We're smashing them today!! Smash them!!"

.

"Let's go, receivers!! Let's go, offense!!"

.

"Let's go, defense!! Let's go, linebackers!!"

.

"Let's go, safeties!! Let's go, special teams!!"

I made the rounds through every position group, injecting fire into each one, then came back to my spot.

Coach Monken handed me a headset.

"Check whether you can hear clearly."

"Yes, Sir."

Up in that high operations tower sat the team's Quality Control staff. I was in contact with Jacob Russell among them.

— Moi. Can you hear me?

"Loud and clear. How about you?"

— Perfect. One upside to the empty stands.

"Not for me. I like it packed to the brim."

— Haha. Fair enough.

After double-checking everything from A to Z, I stood beside Coach Monken reviewing the Play Book.

That was when the head coach called for me.

"Moi!"

I jogged over at once.

The coach leaned in close.

"How is it? Nervous?"

"Whew— a little."

"If there were fans in the stands, you'd be trembling twice as hard. Think of this as training — look at it in a positive light."

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. Are you ready?"

Ready?

Well.

"It feels like I've been ready for sixty years."

"Haha. Cracking jokes — so I guess you really are set."

"Yes, Sir."

The coach took those words as a joke.

But I really had waited sixty years.

A first college game nothing like the one I'd imagined. But the work that needed doing hadn't changed one bit.

And that was enough.

That was enough.