Dabo calls his shot in 2018

Jul 28, 2022, 1:28 PM

Moving has enabled me to find a lot of things that were packed away in the smaller house, and this morning I tried to add a few more items to my office. I found a game program from the 2018 National Championship and was reminded of a story.

Four years ago, we sat down to eat at Dabo Swinney's house, and he showed us a picture of Levi's Stadium in Santa Clara. His advance team had made (I think) a May trip out to check out the stadium and the hotels, and while they were inside the almost empty stadium, one of the workers caught their attention because he was wearing a Clemson National Championship hat from 2016.

A picture was taken, and sent to Dabo, and he laughed and told us it was a sign that Clemson would play for the National Championship. Fast forward to January of 2019, and Nikki and I decide to leave the hotel and board the media bus to that very stadium. The team would be at the hotel until about three hours before game time, and I was talking to different people about the mood that afternoon. Jerry Rice spoke with the team, and everyone was upbeat and confident.

On these National Championship days, the ride to the stadium on the media bus is always a little strange. National writers and local writers converse, sometimes about the game, sometimes making predictions, but always looking out the window, just wanting to get to the stadium and get to work. It's what we had been working for all season.

The police sirens didn't interrupt my reverie that day - motorcycle cops were leading the way and clearing traffic for our trip to the stadium, and I looked out the window and into the partly cloudy skies and half listened to the banter around me. Whenever we have these moments, these fragile, stolen moments of time where you know you are a part of something, I try to drink it all in. Remember the sights and sounds and smells. Savor every second. This day was no different, and I tried to tune out the predictions of doom for the Tigers. This was Alabama's greatest team. They had Tua. So many players were NFL bound. Trevor was a freshman. Saban is a genius.

Fifty minutes later, we arrived and made our way through the media security checkpoint. It was still over five hours until first kick, so we made our way to the playing surface and walked all over the field, taking pictures, reveling in the moment. And then I saw the area where the worker stood, almost eight months prior, with his Clemson hat on. I walked over and took a pic, just for my own sake, and counted down the hours.

Now, if you know Nikki, you know she has social obligations on game days. Friends and, coworkers and family want to see her, talk to her, and I usually walk several miles chasing her around while she answers questions and poses for pictures. I took two calls for radio shows - one out of Dallas and one out of Alabama - and made my predictions of a Clemson win, listening to the roars of laughter from the hosts in Birmingham.

Two hours before the kick I made my way back to the field and passed the Clemson locker room. A coach passed by me and asked my prediction, and I looked at him and said, "Shouldn't I be asking you?" His visage turned serious, and he said, "Their pass defense won't stop our receivers and Trevor. If we don't win by double digits I would be surprised."

He was right. The final score was 44-16, and in the confetti and the amazing moments after the game, I looked back over at that spot and saw yet another worker beginning the process of cleaning. I smiled and thought, Dabo was right, it was a sign. And now we've come full circle.