2021 Best Writing Contest winners announced

The results for the 29th Annual FWAA Best Writing Contest presented by collegepressbox include one writer who claimed two first places and a total of five double placers.

Alex Scarborough of ESPN.com won first place in both Column and Enterprise; Glenn Guilbeau of USA Today took the Game Story category, and Dave Wilson of ESPN.com was tops in Feature.

Other double placers were Travis Hines of the Des Moines Register (second place and an honorable mention); Ryan McGee of ESPN.com (second place and an honorable mention); Pete Thamel of Yahoo Sports (third place and an honorable mention); Dennis Dodd of CBSSports.com (two honorable mentions), and Eric Hansen of the South Bend Tribune (two honorable mentions). 

First-place winners will receive game balls from Big Game and collegepressbox.  Finishers 1-3 receive cash prizes and certificates. Honorable mentions receive certificates. The first-place entries will be displayed in The Fifth Down.

Click on each first-place winner’s name below to read their stories. To go to a page with all the first-place stories, CLICK HERE.


First PlaceGlenn Guilbeau, USA TODAY

Second Place — Travis Hines, Des Moines Register

Third Place — Matt Baker, Tampa Bay Times

Honorable Mention — Ryan McGee, ESPN.com; Eric Hansen, South Bend Tribune; Dick Friedman, Harvard Magazine; Michael Lev, Arizona Daily Star/Tucson.com


First Place Dave Wilson, ESPN.com

Second Place — Andrea Adelson, ESPN.com

Third Place — David Jones, PennLive.com

Honorable Mention — Nate Mink, Syracuse Post-Standard; Ross Dellenger, Sports Illustrated; David Ubben,The Athletic


First PlaceAlex Scarborough, ESPN.com

Second Place — Ryan McGee, ESPN.com

Third Place — Reese Becker, Fifth Quarter

Honorable Mention — Eric Hansen, South Bend Tribune; Dennis Dodd, CBSSports.com; Pete Thamel, Yahoo Sports


First PlaceAlex Scarborough, ESPN.com

Second Place — Audrey Snyder, The Athletic

Third Place — Pete Thamel, Yahoo Sports

Honorable Mention — Travis Hines, Des Moines Register; Dennis Dodd, CBSSports.com; Matt Fortuna, The Athletic

2021 Best Game Story: Glenn Guilbeau, USA Today Louisiana

By Glenn Guilbeau

USA TODAY Louisiana

GAINESVILLE, Fla. – On Saturday morning, LSU freshman reserve tight end Kole Taylor had one reception for three yards. 

By late Saturday night, Taylor had the most famous shoe in college football – a size 14 Nike Vapor Edge Pro 360, to be exact, that sells for $120 to $140.

It left a deep footprint all over LSU’s 37-34 upset of No. 6 and 22-point favorite Florida in the fog and mist of The Swamp.

Taylor, the No. 9 tight end in the nation from Central High in Grand Junction, Colorado, finally got some decent playing time. This was because starting tight end Arik Gilbert “opted out” for the rest of the season last week after a 55-17 loss to Alabama that dropped LSU to 3-5.

Taylor had two catches for seven yards going into a third-and-10 play in a 34-34 game with under two minutes to play. Freshman quarterback Max Johnson, who started for the first time, completed a short pass to Taylor, who was stopped by safety Tre’vez Johnson and cornerback Marco Wilson six yards short of the first down.

Florida would have nearly a minute and 30 seconds to attempt a drive for a game-winning field goal if LSU elected to punt. But something happened.

“I saw three flags on the ground,” LSU coach Ed Orgeron said. “And I was happy.”

In the process of that tackle, one of Taylor’s Nike Vapor Edge Pro 360s slipped off. Wilson picked it up and threw it more than 20 yards in celebration. Referee James Carter threw a flag for unsportsmanlike conduct. This gave LSU a first down at its 44-yard line with 1:24 to play and another chance.

If Taylor’s laces were tighter, LSU likely would have punted, and Florida could have driven to the winning score. But LSU equipment manager Greg Stringfellow inadvertently took care of that.


2021 Best Column: Alex Scarborough, ESPN.com

By Alex Scarborough


For going on 14 years, Alabama has beaten Tennessee every October, and every year coaches and players have enjoyed a traditional postgame cigar. You’ve probably seen the photos that pop up on social media around this time each year. The one of Derrick Henry puffing a stogie with his arm around Nick Saban is particularly memorable, the running back towering over his head coach.

Fans have gotten in on the action, too. Television cameras have often panned into the crowds in the fourth quarter to show plumes of smoke rising from the bleachers. And somewhere, whether in Bryant-Denny Stadium or at his home in town, Jimmy Tom Goostree has been watching it all with a smile on his face.

Jimmy Tom’s father, Jim Goostree, is the reason cigar shops in Tuscaloosa and Knoxville have a run of business the week of the rivalry that’s better known as the Third Saturday in October.

Jim was a longtime trainer at Alabama, but before that he was an assistant trainer at Tennessee. And like his boss, Paul “Bear” Bryant, he hated the Volunteers. So, the story goes, in the fall of 1961, Jim made a bet with the players on the team. Beat Tennessee for the first time in six years, he said, and he’ll dance around the locker room naked.

Whether by talent or precision or the promise of seeing Jim cut a rug, the Crimson Tide beat the Vols 34-3. And true to his word, Jim danced, albeit with a victory cigar pressed between his lips.

Thankfully, the stogie is the only part of the celebration that carried over.

“It’s a sense of pride for all of our family members,” Jimmy Tom said. “It means a lot that Dad is recognized this particular week.”

Bill Oliver was a senior on that 1961 team that started it all, and he remembers the elder Goostree as “a little short fella” and an excellent trainer. He had “a keen mind,” Oliver said, and he understood the rivalry with Tennessee better than almost anyone given his time with the program prior to coming to Alabama. Oliver said Goostree’s history paid off in that “the more knowledge you had, the more you could find out, the more we could smoke cigars.”

“Beating them was the ultimate,” Oliver recalled. “It really was.”

Jim Goostree died in 1999, and Jimmy Tom isn’t sure where all the time went. When he walks into his den, though, he’s reminded of his father. In a glass case, on the top shelf, is a football that’s nearly 50 years old. There are no markings on it to signify its importance, but Jimmy Tom knows.


2021 Best Enterprise: Alex Scarborough, ESPN.com

By Alex Scarborough


Nick Saban was a nobody then. His players’ first impression was that the ex-Houston Oilers assistant was kind of short. Truth be told, they got a Tony Danza vibe because of his deep tan, well-coiffed hair and wide-open shirt collar. But when Saban spoke in that first meeting — when he screamed about financial aid checks and threatened to kick players off the team — he had their attention. Soon, his training program would have them doubled over and dropping like flies.

“It reminded me of the Junction Boys,” said former tight end Vince Marrow. “I watched at least six or seven guys quit. They just couldn’t take it.”

Looking back 30 years on, Saban said he learned two important lessons during his one season at Toledo in 1990: motivation and game management. The latter was the hardest pill to swallow, though, as a mistake cost his team a win and the outright conference title. It’s something he carries with him today — one of those myriad details he pores over during every pregame meeting, before or after receiving scouting reports on the referees.

He learned, quite literally, which way the wind blows.

“We got the ball and went ‘two-minute’ down the field at the end,” Saban recalled of that game against Central Michigan, a 13-12 result on Oct. 20, 1990 — and his first career loss. “It was a one-point game and we lined up to kick a field goal of like 25 yards or something. We had a pretty good kicker, and the ball just got about 5 yards from the crossbar and just stopped in midair.”

He took a deep breath, reliving a loss that still haunts him, and continued.

“A lot of people remember the Bluegrass Miracle when I was at LSU. Well, we had the wind in the fourth quarter, and it was a significant 30 mph wind probably. And when we threw the Hail Mary, they couldn’t judge the ball because it just kept going and going and going, and that’s how we won.


2021 Best Feature: Dave Wilson, ESPN.com

By Dave Wilson


In the late 1990s, at a benefit 30 miles away from his East Texas hometown of Tyler, Earl Campbell sat at a table while the party’s host, a colorful businessman and one of Campbell’s best friends, summoned sheepish onlookers to come say hello to the legend.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Get on over here,” he said. “Earl don’t get up.”

Campbell wasn’t aloof, wasn’t too cool to get up, despite the darkened Wayfarers that made him look cool. “Earl don’t get up” because he couldn’t.

Campbell was once seen as the baddest man on the planet. He left tacklers and pieces of his tearaway jersey on the field behind him. Off the field, he wore Wranglers and giant belt buckles and did Skoal commercials. He was declared an official State Hero in 1981 by the Texas legislature, an honor previously bestowed upon only Stephen F. Austin, Sam Houston and Davy Crockett.

As time went on and he was out of public view, Campbell broke down. At the Heisman Trophy ceremony, he remained in his seat while his fraternity brothers lined up on stage behind the winner. At Texas football games, he was always in a golf cart or riding on a scooter. Fans would pity him, muttering “Poor Earl,” as they tried to reconcile their love of football with Campbell being seen as a cautionary tale of its ravages.

But years later, he would discover through a decades-long medical odyssey, that was only part of the story.

“What happened over time is everybody just thinks I had football injuries,” says Campbell, who turned 65 in March. “They look at me and they think, ‘Oh, poor Earl.’ People really don’t know the truth about it.”

The truth came late to Campbell himself, which is why he hasn’t told this story in much detail before. Yet this year, he is deliberative as he relishes the biggest honor of a football life filled with so many of them. In July, the University of Texas announced it would immediately change the name of the football field at Darrell K Royal-Texas Memorial Stadium to Campbell-Williams Field to honor Campbell, who won the 1977 Heisman Trophy, and the Longhorns’ other Heisman winner, Ricky Williams (1998).

It is remarkable for several reasons. First, for how it happened: The field was previously named for Joe Jamail, a billionaire attorney and Texas mega-booster who was a close friend of Campbell’s. But amid a conversation about social justice led by Texas players on campus following George Floyd’s death in police custody in Minneapolis, Jamail’s three sons asked the university to remove their late father’s name and replace it with the names of the two Longhorns legends, replacing a wealthy booster’s name with two of the most prominent Black athletes in school history.


28th Annual FWAA Best Writing Contest Results

DALLAS — Frequent past winners Ivan Maisel of ESPN.com and Christopher Walsh of BamaCentral.com joined David Hale of ESPN.com and Ross Dellenger of Sports Illustrated in claiming first-place honors in the 28th Annual FWAA Best Writing Contest. Four writers claimed awards in two categories and one writer took awards in three categories.

Maisel’s winning entry in Column on the late, legendary writer Dan Jenkins drew this response from the judge: “Love everything about it (the column). It’s a tall order to memorialize a writing legend. You tend to overwrite to impress. This one had just the right tone.”

Walsh’s expansive story in Enterprise explained how current-day Tide Coach Nick Saban rates versus the top coaches in the history of the game. From the judge: “Exhaustive research piece on how Alabama’s Nick Saban stacks up against the all-time field of great coaches. Well-written, with excellent perspective on the intangibles that make Saban one of the best.”

In the Game Story Category, Dellenger completely captured the essence of LSU’s CFP semifinal victory over Oklahoma after a deadly game-day plane crash involving the daughter-in-law of LSU’s offensive coordinator. From the judge: “Writer depicts the emotions in LSU’s blistering of Oklahoma in a national semifinal that was tinged with tragedy. Great job of telling the story of the day and game that was like no other in LSU history.”

And Hale’s Feature Story on Arkansas State Coach Blake Anderson and his loss of wife Wendy to cancer prompted this from the judge: “Powerful. So detailed. After reading it, you want to go hug Blake Anderson, while wishing you’d known Wendy.”

Ryan McGee of ESPN.com picked up a second, third and an honorable mention in his trifecta. Dellenger, besides his first-place award, also picked up a second. Pete Thamel of Yahoo Sports, David Ubben of The Athletic and Dave Wilson of ESPN.com each had two honorable mention awards.

First, second and third-place awards receive cash prizes as well as certificates. Honorable mentions receive certificates.

To read the first-place stories and a bio on the writers, click on their names below.


First Place — Ross Dellenger, Sports Illustrated

Second Place — Glenn Guilbeau, USA TODAY Network-Louisiana

Third Place — James Crepea, The Oregonian

Honorable Mention — John Bohnenkamp, HawkeyeMaven; Pete DiPrimio, IUhoosiers.com; David Ubben, The Athletic


First Place David Hale, ESPN.com

Second Place Ross Dellenger, Sports Illustrated

Third Place Nate Mink, Syracuse Post-Standard/Syracuse.com

Honorable Mention Ryan McGee, ESPN.com; Pete Thamel, Yahoo Sports; Dave Wilson, ESPN.com; Andrea Adelson, ESPN.com; Max Olson, The Athletic



First Place Ivan Maisel, ESPN.com

Second Place Ryan McGee, ESPN.com

Third Place — David Teel, Daily Press, Newport News, Va.

Honorable Mention Anthony Gimino, AllSportsTucson.com; Pete Thamel, Yahoo Sports; Kirk Bohls, Austin American-Statesman


First Place — Christopher Walsh, BamaCentral.com

Second Place — Stewart Mandel,The Athletic

Third Place – Ryan McGee, ESPN.com

Honorable Mention — Shehan Jeyarajah, Dave Campbell’s Texas Football; David Ubben, The Athletic; Dave Wilson, ESPN.com

2020 Best Feature: David Hale

Comment by the judge: Powerful. So detailed. After reading it, you want to go hug Blake Anderson, while wishing you’d known Wendy.

By David Hale


It was quiet inside the truck as Arkansas State coach Blake Anderson drove along Interstate 55. He wasn’t sure what to say. Usually he could count on his wife, Wendy, to fill any silence. She loves talking to people, and even the most mundane subject will spiral in a dozen different directions only vaguely related to the last. Blake calls it “spiderwebbing,” one thread thinly connected to another. He’s the face of the football program, but at events, Wendy is the star. A booster or fan will corner him, then he’ll introduce Wendy. She spiderwebs, and he sneaks away, leaving Wendy to charm even the dullest of companions.

Now, in early July, Wendy is in the seat next to him, frail and tired and sore from an hour bumping along the highway between Memphis, Tennessee, and Jonesboro in the passenger seat, silently deliberating the news they’d just gotten from her doctors.

A few weeks earlier, scans showed her latest round of chemotherapy was working. She’d first been diagnosed with a rare and aggressive form of breast cancer in 2017, recovered, then got sick again. The initial prognosis was bleak, but she was a fighter, and until today, she thought she was winning. But she’d skipped her last dose of chemo, too tired and too sick to plug herself into another bag of poison. Her doctor ordered tests. The tests showed the tumors were growing again. They’d gone to meet with her oncologist in Memphis, and he offered no good options.

Wendy wasn’t prone to outbursts. Perhaps it was the voice, a Betty Boop approximation, she said, that always endeared her to kids and made Blake laugh when she’d get excited. She didn’t curse much, either. She’d say things like, “Cancer really kicked me in the fanny.” But after the doctor went over the test results, he’d left the room, closed the door, and Wendy screamed.


They didn’t talk much after that, just drove along in silence while Wendy’s mind raced. Why had she gotten her hopes up? Why did cancer keep pulling the rug out from under her? Why couldn’t these doctors see that all this bad news wasn’t helping? The more she thought, the angrier she got. Twisting in the passenger seat to face her husband, she erupted.

“I’m sick and tired of getting bad news,” she shouted. “Don’t give me any more bad news. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to see it. I’m going to beat this, and all these things they keep showing me be damned!”

Blake took her hand. She wasn’t mad at him. He knew that. It just needed to be said.

“I’ve never doubted you,” he said.


2020 Best Column: Ivan Maisel

Comment by the judge: When you’re writing the obituary of an iconic writer, the tendency is to over write and impress, rather than get out of the way and allow the story to tell itself. Loved all the anecdotes. It all worked. Dan Jenkins would be pleased. 

By Ivan Maisel


Dan Jenkins is gone, and everyone who loves college football, golf and the crisply struck one-liner will raise a glass. Preferably of J&B.

If you don’t know the work of Jenkins, who died Thursday night in his beloved Fort Worth, Texas, at age 90, you are in for a treat. He didn’t invent sportswriting, but with his combination of reporting and humor, perspective and confidence, he changed my business for the better. Much better.

In the pages of Sports Illustrated, Dan made human the legendary sports gods of his era. Figures such as Ben Hogan, Arnold Palmer, Jack Nicklaus, Bear Bryant and Darrell Royal no longer loomed larger than life. And Dan did it with a sharp eye, a smartass grin and very fast typing. What he didn’t tell us in his reporting, he told us in barely disguised fiction in best-selling novels like “Semi-Tough.” My favorite had nothing to do with football. I bet I haven’t read “Baja Oklahoma” more than 10 times.

Sportswriters of my era have their go-to Jenkins lines, maybe like an earlier generation does with Noel Coward, or the way that Stephen Colbert goes viral today. For personal reasons, mine remains the lead of his story about the 1984 U.S. Open at Winged Foot:

“Maybe Fuzzy Zoeller plays golf the way everybody should. Hit it, go find it, hit it again. Grin, have a smoke, take a sip, make a joke and every so often win a major championship.”

I spent that Open as Dan’s assistant, the fact-checker who helped him gather material for his story. I was 24 years old and barely could find the first tee without a map. I think the only actual assistance I provided Dan was driving him from Manhattan to Mamaroneck for the Monday playoff between Zoeller and Greg Norman.

Sports Illustrated issues closed on Monday, and 35 years ago, most copy had to be buttoned up by Sunday night. They held the magazine for the Open to conclude. Dan, having cut his teeth at the Fort Worth Press, always had been impervious to deadline pressure. At a magazine where writers were known for dripping out copy like an IV, Dan wrote as if he were late for a cocktail party.

In that lead, Dan captured Zoeller’s personality perfectly, in language that sounded like he leaned over the bar to say it. To witness that up close taught me more about journalism than any class I ever took.

In those days, Dan was known for not appearing on the golf course. He worked the locker room a little. Mostly he held court in the dining area of the club, swapping information and one-liners with agents, writers, golfers, you name it. Dan would walk out onto Augusta National on Sunday to watch the golfers play the short par-4 3rd, a nod to his reverence for the Masters, but otherwise he stayed indoors.

But Dan wanted to see a U.S. Open playoff. We walked out to the fifth green. As Norman prepared to putt, Zoeller, standing at the side of the green, glanced over and saw Dan standing there. Their eyes met, and Zoeller clutched his chest, feigning a heart attack. Make a joke, and every so often win a major.

Dan left Sports Illustrated a few weeks later, more a clash of personality than anything. The magazine editor decided Dan had lost his fastball. Maybe so; he only had another 35 years of relevant journalism left in him.

I first met Dan in the fall of 1978 in the office of The Stanford Daily. I was a sophomore, sitting in front of a Royal typewriter. Dan walked in looking for his daughter, Sally, a freshman who intended to join our staff. I’m pretty sure Dan was holding a cigarette. I’m pretty sure I couldn’t speak in his presence. Think of LeBron James walking into your gym, Beyoncé showing up at your corner bar for karaoke.

On that day, I entered his orbit, and I never left. We bonded because any friend of Sally was a friend of his. You could say the same about any friend of college football. Dan stopped covering football nearly 50 years ago, but his love for the sport never wavered.

It began as a 6-year-old, when he attended the battle of two undefeateds, TCU and SMU, at the end of the 1935 season. So did Grantland Rice. The Rose Bowl would invite the winner, and Dan’s beloved hometown TCU lost a heartbreaker. A few years ago, I visited Dan at his Fort Worth home, and on one wall of his office, he had blown up a photo of Amon Carter Stadium that day, with arrows pointing to where he sat, and where Granny Rice sat. Birth of a Sportswriter.

His coverage of college football for Sports Illustrated in the 1960s opened an entire world to the magazine’s readers, and especially to its Ivy League-bred editors. Dan brought college football to the national mainstream and shone a light on all of the color and pageantry of Saturday’s America, a phrase he gleefully stole for a book title from TCU coach Abe Martin, a tobacco-chewin’ rascal from the very old school.

Dan had the idea to spend a weekend in Dallas with two couples as they attended three college football games. He had the idea to chronicle an entire recruiting season in the home of a blue-chip quarterback, Oklahoma-bound Jack Mildren. He had the idea and the gall to take on all of Notre Dame Nation when he mocked Ara Parseghian, coach of the No. 1 Irish, for settling for a 10-10 tie against No. 2 Michigan State in 1966. The story began, “Old Notre Dame will tie over all,” a brilliant takedown of the Irish fight song.


Dan may have stopped writing about college football, but he continued to love it as if it were his fourth child. He faithfully attended TCU football games, his parking space underneath Amon Carter Stadium directly next to the one reserved for the university chancellor. TCU named its press box for Dan in May 2017, and of all the many honors he received in his long and glorious career, that one stayed close to his heart.

A few months later, I went to Arlington to cover the Florida-Michigan game on opening weekend. The day before the game, I met Dan for lunch at Colonial Country Club, home of the longtime PGA Tour stop. Dan held court there. He was physically frail, but his mind remained keen. We talked college football for 90 minutes, and he made sure to show me the encased display of memorabilia from his career on the wall next to the pro shop.

I dropped him an email now and again, and he always answered within minutes. It’s hard to swallow that I can’t do that again. Instead, I’ll swallow a J&B in his honor, and curl up with “Baja Oklahoma” for the 11th read.


Ivan Maisel


Age: 60

College: Stanford

Background: This is the eighth first-place finish in the FWAA Best Writing Contest for Maisel, who won the FWAA’s prestigious Bert McGrane Award in 2016. Maisel, the FWAA President in 1995, has covered college football since 1987 for The Dallas Morning News (1987-94), Newsday (1994-97) and Sports Illustrated (1997-2002). He is delighted to have been the first college football writer hired at ESPN.com, where he has been a senior writer since November 2002. Maisel served as editor-at-large of ESPN College Football 150, the company’s initiative to commemorate the sport’s 150th anniversary in 2019. In that role, he served as writer and host of the Down & Distance podcast, and as a producer on three series and two documentaries. Ivan and his wife, Meg Murray, live in Fairfield, Conn. They have two daughters, Sarah, 28, and Elizabeth, 23. Their son Max died in 2015 at age 21. Ivan is writing a book about Max and the nature of grief that will be published in 2021.

2020 Best Enterprise: Christopher Walsh

Comment by the judge: Exhaustive research piece on how Alabama’s Nick Saban stacks up against the all-time field of great coaches. Well-written, with excellent perspective on where he rates.

Christopher Walsh’s series ran in 26 parts between Aug. 27, 2019, and Dec. 31, 2019.

By Christopher Walsh


Like with so many other successful coaches, Nick Saban has numerous ways to get a point across, and anecdotes that get retold every few years to new and younger audiences.

“Grampa Nick” telling a story goes something like this:

“I’ll never forget fishing as an 11-year-old in West Virginia, and I’m fishing down by this lake where the hot water runs off from the coal mine because that hot water is where the catfish like to hang out. This guy is just sitting there pulling in huge catfish, but throwing them back, and then he’ll catch smaller ones and keep them.

“I’m not catching anything at all, but I’m like ‘Hey man, why do you keep those little ones and throw back those huge ones.’ His answer was ‘Because I’ve only got a 9-inch skillet.’

“See? You have to know who you are.”

So who is Nick Saban?

Just the coach who will eventually go down as being the most successful coach in college football history — the one who everyone is chasing and emulating.

Over the course of the 2019 season, and as part of the 150th anniversary celebration, BamaCentral.com has compared Saban’s numbers with 25 of the best coaches the sport has ever known (they are listed below).

This is for the big-picture comparison with many of the same categories.

  • Wins: Saban has a long way to go if he wants to try and catch Joe Paterno with 409, but he’ll move into the top 10 next season. Moreover, he’s the only coach during the modern era of college football to be averaging 10 wins a season.
  • National championships: Saban and “Bear” Bryant have both won six, although Bryant was involved in more split titles.

However, Saban came into this season averaging a national championship every 3.8 season he’s been a head coach (Toledo and Michigan State included). The next best averages in history are Frank Leahy and Knute Rockne tied at one every 4.3 seasons, and John McKay at 5.3. Note: Dabo Swinney will move into that group if Clemson knocks off LSU in New Orleans on Jan. 13.

  • Recruiting: There’s no one to compare Saban to as recruiting rankings are still a relatively new phenomenon. Still, it might be a long, long time before anyone else can claim to win seven straight recruiting titles.
  • Dynasty: With five titles between 2009 and 2017, the question isn’t if Alabama’s had the greatest dynasty but when it achieved that distinction.

Was it after Alabama won the 2011 national championship, giving it two titles in three years and four straight 10-win seasons?

Perhaps it was when the Crimson Tide scored 79 unanswered points over seven-plus BCS championship quarters, stemming from the fourth quarter against Texas and concluding during the second half of Alabama’s 42-14 dismantling of the Fighting Irish?

It caused ABC/ESPN announcer Brent Musburger to say in the spring of 2013: “Getting in the game is the first part of the challenge, and that in and of itself is not easy, so I have not seen a run like this.”



The closest comparisons can only be found in other sports:

The 1960s Green Bay Packers, who won five championships in seven years, including Super Bowls I and II.

The New York Yankees won nine World Series and 14 pennants from 1949-64.

The Boston Celtics captured eight straight NBA titles from 1959-1966, and 16 from 1956-86.

The Montreal Canadians won four straight Stanley Cups three times, 1955-60, 1964-69 and 1975-79.

John Wooden at UCLA won 10 NCAA championships from 1964-75.

  • All-Americans: In 2017, Saban didn’t just top, but blew past Paterno for the most consensus All-Americans in history. While the Penn State legend had 33, Saban came into the 2019 season with 41. His 1.78 average per season barely edged Leahy’s 1.77 and Switzer’s 1.75 for the best in college football history.
  • First-round draft picks: See if this sounds familiar, Saban has the all-tie lead with 34, ahead of Paterno (33) and Bobby Bowden (32). Saban is averaging 1.48 first-round draft picks every year, with Urban Meyer second (1.35), Leahy third (1.23) and McKay fourth (1.13).
  • Players in the NFL: When the NFL held its 2019 kickoff weekend, which is the only time it does an official roster breakdown because they’re otherwise always in flux, Alabama had 56 former players who were active. Ohio State was second with 44. The Crimson Tide had at least twice as many active players than all but six other programs.
  • Big wins: No one will probably top Leahy’s amazing 86.5 winning percentage against teams ranked in the top 10 of the Associated Press poll, but Saban came into the 2019 season with an extremely impressive 82-40 record against ranked foes, and 42-21 versus top-10 teams (66.7). He was tied with Bowden for second all-time for most wins against ranked opponents (and passed him with the win at Texas A&M), and trailed just Paterno with 86. Bryant is fourth at 66.

Saban’s 3.57 average wins against ranked opponents and 1.82 against top-10 teams are the best in history.

  • Wins against teams ranked No. 1: Saban has the most with seven. No one else in history has more than four. That statistic is ever more remarkable when you factor in all the weeks Alabama has been ranked No. 1.

The Crimson Tide has been No. 1 at some point of every season since 2008. The previous longest streak was seven years by Miami (1986-92).

  • Wins against unranked opponents: The streak is up to 91 straight victories, the longest in Bowl Subdivision history. The previous record was 72 games, shared by Miami (Fla.) (1984-95) and Florida (1989- 2000). Under Saban, Alabama holds a 95-3 (.969) (91-3, .968 after vacations) mark against unranked opponents.
  • The stat that will likely never be matched: Since the 2008 season, Alabama has played in 141 of 144 regular season games that have had national championship implications.


2020 Best Game Story: Ross Dellenger

Comment of the judge: Writer captures the emotions in LSU’s blistering of Oklahoma in a national semifinal that was tinged with tragedy. Great job of telling the story of the day and game that was like no other in LSU history,

By Ross Dellenger

Sports Illustrated

ATLANTA, Ga. — Somewhere in a corner of LSU’s locker room here at Mercedes-Benz Stadium, Tigers offensive coordinator Steve Ensminger held the hardest phone call of his life. His daughter-in-law, Carley McCord, a 30-year-old TV journalist, had perished Saturday morning in a plane crash in Louisiana while en route to this very place. His son and namesake, Steven Jr., so shaken by the news that family members rushed him to the hospital, lay in a bed in a medicated state, on sedatives, in and out of reality—until dad called.

Just before he took the field for warmups, an hour before he would call plays in his alma mater’s biggest game in eight years, Steve Ensminger, for just a brief few minutes, pushed football aside for family. He called his son. He told him that everything would be O.K., that he’d make it through this dark hour. He told him that he loved him and to be strong and have faith.

He also made him a promise. As the call ended, dad told son what was coming next. “The team is behind you, these coaches are behind you,” Steven recalls his father saying, “and we are about to go beat Oklahoma’s ass for you.”

Hours later, with LSU in the midst of a deconstruction of the Sooners, Steven’s blood pressure dipped to more normal levels. He emerged from that cloudy state and maybe most importantly, the 30-year old got to watch his father’s offense roar in LSU’s 63-28 thumping of OU. Quarterback Joe Burrow carved through the Big 12 champs and its defense with such quick ferocity that it almost seemed unfathomable. The Tigers scored a touchdown on eight of their first nine drives, led 49-14 at halftime and finished with 692 yards of offense in one of the most dominant victories in the six-year history of the College Football Playoff.

They’re bound for a national championship bout on Jan. 13 in New Orleans with Clemson, a quasi-home game for a team on a magical 2019 run. They’re the top-ranked team in the land, have the Heisman Trophy winner at quarterback and haven’t lost a game since last November. For a second time in three weeks, LSU brought a Louisiana party to this place, celebrating a playoff win days after claiming the SEC championship here. Garth Brooks’ “Callin’ Baton Rouge” blared through the stadium speakers, purple-clad LSU fans screamed from the stands and their team, high up on a platform, accepted the Peach Bowl trophy.

And then there was Steve Ensminger, the last assistant coach to arrive on the field for this celebration, having made his way from the press box.

He found wife Amy and then he found head coach Ed Orgeron, the man who had delivered to him the tragic news around lunchtime earlier Saturday. They all embraced in an emotional moment and peculiar scene—tears of sadness surrounded by a celebrating sea. Ensminger, 61, is not any other assistant here. He is a beloved figure, an LSU quarterback under famed coach Charlie McClendon, a country boy raised in the Baton Rouge area with a hilarious twang. He’s heralded as an unsung hero of LSU’s 2019 season, hidden in the darkness of the looming shadow of 30-year-old pass game coordinator Joe Brady, a former Saints assistant who helped overhaul the Tigers’ offense into a spread attack over the offseason.

Without Steve, none of this happens, Brady and others have said. During the first half, ESPN TV cameras flashed on screen Ensminger and Brady in the booth, and when the Tigers went up 42-7 in the second quarter, the two even shared a fist bump. Nothing changed about their normal, two-man play-calling system despite the tragedy, Brady says.

Meanwhile, more than 500 miles away, Steven Ensminger Jr. agreed to a text exchange interview with Sports Illustrated in the second quarter of LSU’s win, detailing one of the darkest days of his life and describing that pregame phone call from his father. “I had talked to my mom crying and couldn’t get out words and same with my cousin who was my best man in our wedding,” Steven says. “The one voice that got on the phone with me that was clear and strong and supportive and confident while I was laying in that bed was my dad right before he walked out for warm-ups. I could barely speak. I couldn’t hold myself together and he said, ‘Son, you will get through this, it’s what we do. We face the darkest times in our lives and it’s what we do, we get through it. And I will take care of you and I’ll be there for you to keep you strong. You’re my one and only son, and my namesake and I love you and I can promise you we will get through this.’”

McCord was one of six passengers on a small private aircraft that left Lafayette, La., around 9 a.m. CT bound for Atlanta. The only survivor, Stephen Wade Berzas, 37, was in critical condition as of Saturday evening. The eight-seat plane crashed in a parking lot about a mile from its take-off point, bursting into flames with such force that it blew out the windows of a nearby post office. Witnesses told a Lafayette TV station, KATC, that the plane hit a power line while presumably attempting to make an emergency landing through dense fog.

Gretchen Vincent, 51, offered a seat on the plane to McCord, who had no other route to Atlanta. Steven Ensminger had planned to drive McCord to Atlanta, but he couldn’t get off work. He’s a chemical operator at a nitrogen facility on the Mississippi River in a small town between Baton Rouge and New Orleans. A company policy prohibiting employee vacations after Dec. 22 prevented him from getting time off.

In fact, he was at work without his phone when McCord texted and called him that morning before the flight. He missed both of them. “I don’t have my phone and she sends me a message saying she loved me,” Steven says. “I was in and out of a nightmare, not being able to tell what was real and what wasn’t. I can remember laying in the hospital bed repeating myself saying it wasn’t real and then one of the hardest things I’m dealing with is that I missed her text and I missed her call. It is by far the most pain, angst and terror and just darkest time of my life and I honestly don’t know how long it will last because I still don’t believe it. I don’t want to believe it.”

While eating lunch, Steven learned of McCord’s death from his aunt. Back in Atlanta, special assistant to the head coach Derek Ponamsky informed Orgeron of the news. It was Orgeron who broke the news to Ensminger. It trickled to assistants during staff meetings and a walk-through at the team hotel in downtown Atlanta. There was never a doubt that Ensminger would coach, living up to his reputation of toughness and grit, of hard work and focus. After all, Steve sometimes sleeps in a cot in his office during fall camp. He’s a journeyman of a coach, fired three times as a coordinator or assistant, humble enough to find ways to dodge media interviews, the focus of hard fan criticism upon his promotion to offensive coordinator in 2018.

Those close to him aren’t surprised by the strong will he showed Saturday. “Only Slinger,” says LSU receivers coach Mickey Joseph, using Steve’s nickname, one that dates back to his quarterbacking college days. “For Coach E to come out and call the plays he called… somebody was watching over him,” says running back Clyde Edwards-Helaire. Asked in the postgame celebration how her husband did it, Amy Ensminger’s eyes begin to swell with tears and she points up to the heavens, “God,” she whispers.

Many players only learned of the news by word of mouth, some before the game and others afterward. Blake Ferguson, a senior snapper, heard about it from an equipment manager during pregame warmups. “I immediately went over to coach, hugged him and told him I loved him,” Ferguson says. “He’s strong as hell for coaching in this game. We played for him and that family.”

McCord wasn’t just a daughter-in-law to an LSU assistant. Even before she married Steven Ensminger Jr. almost two years ago, she held a close connection to those around LSU. She turned into a familiar face on many televisions in the state as a Cox Sports and ESPN sideline reporter, known for her hard-charging reporting and bubbly persona. McCord held jobs few knew about, Steven says. She woke up each morning around 4 a.m. to teach online English classes to kids in China, and she worked some with New Orleans TV station WDSU. She also served as a travel agent and spent time covering some of her favorite programs, the New Orleans Pelicans and Saints. “She was a tough minded, caring, charismatic personality who would not take no for an answer,” says Jordy Culotta, a Baton Rouge sports radio host and cousin to McCord. “She was refreshing in our business. She was also my friend. A sad day.”

McCord and Steve Ensminger had a joking relationship, one full of jesting at one another’s expense. Before McCord and Steven’s wedding, Steve told her that he might not make the ceremony because he’s “got recruits in,” Steven says. McCord would poke at her father-in-law that demons were coming for him. “She’d always give my dad a hard time,” Steven says. “These words are the hardest words I’ve ever had to speak. She will always be part of my life. I’m torn and struggling but I knew she would tell me to be strong. I love her. I miss her so much it hurts. I wish she was here with me.”

After the game, Steve Ensminger left the coaches’ suite and briskly walked directly to his family, escorted by a team spokesman. Soon afterward, he’d call his son again to check up. It’s a call Steven was waiting for since they had last talked, one he thought about as the Tigers romped to a big win.

“To sit here and watch my dad with so many emotions and a heavy heart and his worry for me and watch him do what he said we would do, there’s no question that he is my rock, my idol, my mentor, my coach, my father,” Steven says. “I’m his namesake and I wouldn’t be able to make it through anything without him there to tell me to man up and get through it.”


Ross Dellenger

Sports Illustrated

Age: 36

College: Mississippi State, 2006

Background: A native of Biloxi, Mississippi, Ross drifted toward sports journalism as the son to a high school football coach. Not athletic enough to play, he started his career by filming high school games for recruiting sites and writing high school football game stories for various outlets. He joined Sports Illustrated in May of 2018 after more than a decade as a college sports beat writer, covering the likes of LSU, Missouri, Jackson State and Auburn.

He has mostly lived and worked in the Deep South, holding a passion and love for college football. However, in April of 2019, he moved with his wife to Washington, D.C., where Elizabeth works as a national political reporter covering Congress and the White House.