Hey, remember how great?

Peter Warrick, Bobby Bowden and a magical time

Some years ago, Lucky Strike Cigarettes — there’s an ironic name, huh? — put out a series of record albums that were compilations of a bunch of great artists that bore the title “Remember How Great?”

With another football season upon us, I can’t help but remember some of the wonderful moments in a magical time and one of my best and most amazing memories is of two people, an electric football player named Peter Warrick and a charismatic, good-humored, legendary football coach named Bobby Bowden.

The moment I may remember best out of a handful that stay with me didn’t happen on a football field, oddly enough. That was the topic, of course. But the moment happened on a Monday afternoon, a couple of days after the event in question. Time for all of to think about what we witnessed, how it will remain on instant replay in our personal highlight film and ultimately, what it meant to all of us, including Bowden.

The 1999 season, Bowden’s final National Championship, was a perfect one, 12-0, capped by a thunderous 46-29 win in the Sugar Bowl. But that year opened with a 41-7 win over Louisiana Tech, a game that was a bit sluggish to tell you the truth, except for one remarkable play, a reverse — a call Bobby Bowden always loved to make — that led to a touchdown.

The great Peter Warrick and that unforgettable punt return vs. Louisiana Tech.

And while Warrick’s touchdown run was spectacular and had the Doak Campbell Stadium crowd and the Louisiana Tech folks in awe — Coach Jack Bicknell said “I thought we had tackled him two or three times already.” — there was some off-the-field prestidigitation by his coach that was, in some ways, just as astonishing.

On Mondays after football games, there would be the Bobby Bowden Luncheon at the University Center where the coach would wander in, usually after everyone was seated, so he’d get himself a rousing and well-deserved round of applause. There would be a few speeches, a few jokes here and there, then Bowden would show a brief highlight film from the previous game, talk about some of the plays and so on.

This time, it was different. The highlight film was a single play — Warrick’s touchdown run. And something else about it was unusual. The single play would be run in slow-motion. Why? Well, we had one of the greatest football coaches of all-time willing to take us into his personal huddle and share (wink) one of his most precious coaching secrets. He was going to explain, move-by-move, how he coached Peter Warrick through that run.

First of all, for a nearly 70-year-old football coach to try a stunt like that took almost as much nerve as Warrick thinking he could fake out an entire football team on a single run. Bobby knew he was in a house where he was adored, so he knew he had a lot of leeway. And he was always, and I mean always, great with a crowd.

Secondly, he had to find a way to pull it off — with humor, wit, affection for both his player and his audience and make the whole thing sing! The whole room! On one play?

Being Bobby Bowden, you can bet he damn sure pulled it off, just like Warrick did. It was an amazing performance — by both. But my problem, as a working journalist, how can I share with my readers what I just saw? What quotes do I use? How am I going to reconstruct the magic that all of us just experienced here at the University Center?

Fortunately, I had taped it. So, still buzzing from the event, I trekked back to the Democrat office and started to write. How to begin? What do I say? Then it hit me, get the hell out of the way, Nogowski. Let the man talk.

So I did. I wrote a little introduction, then let Bowden carry the ball. And for a 70-year-old football coach walking out on a limb, that dude was high-steppin’, wasn’t he?

WARRICK DID JUST AS COACH TOLD HIM TO

Novelist Kurt Vonnegut, in a discussion on Mark Twain, once asserted that it was “psychologically unlikely for a great writer to be a great performer, too.”

That goes double for football coaches. Generally, they view public speaking commitments the way they view sportswriters – with evil intent.

When Florida State University hired Bobby Bowden way back when, it was for his ability to win, his ability to attract players to the school, his ability to serve as a role model, his ability to make the right call at the right time. Well, three out of the four.

Bowden was not hired – so far as we know – for his ability to captivate an audience, That turned out to be something he just happened to be great at. Nearly 70, he may be getting better.

Near the end of the first half of Saturday afternoon’s season opener with Louisiana Tech, FSU handed the ball to Peter Warrick on a reverse. Warrick’s subsequent 20-yard dash to glory brought national attention to Warrick and his bid for the Heisman Trophy. It’s sure to make the highlight reel for the 1999 season, no matter how many more Warrick masterpieces follow.

But what nobody recognized – until Monday afternoon’s season-opening luncheon at University Center – was Warrick’s magnificent helter-skelter run also presented the coach with a chance to do a little strutting of his own.

Instead of the usual coaching babble – “Yeah, you can’t coach a move like that…” – Bowden saw things differently, He said, in essence, that you could coach a move like that. In fact, he said he did.

“Now you saw me talking to him before he went in,” Bowden began, to much laughter. “I had to explain it to him. He had a hard time understanding, boy, all that I wanted him to do.”

We could hear the coach talk, see Warrick nodding. The film of the play began – in slow motion.

“Now you get over there to the left and you get the ball and run it around the right side. Now when you get over there, that defensive end – you’ve already run that thing once – he’s looking for it. He’s going to try and contain you.”

It almost sounded plausible.

As the play unfolded before us, “When he does,” Bowden continued, “you start it back up the middle. There’ll be two big ol’ boys there.

“So cut back to your left. And get over here in haste. But when you get over here, a guy is going to unload on you and about knock your britches off.

“Kick your leg up high and shove off the other way and you can escape him. And by doing that, you can make the rest of the guys think you’re down.

“Come back down on your feet and continue running to your left. They’re going to see what happened so I want you to fool them. Throw the ball up. Run without the ball.

(Warrick momentarily lost his grip on the ball…Bowden didn’t miss that detail, either.) Meanwhile, we’re all watching exactly what Bowden is describing.

“When it comes down, you’ll see this guy here noticing. So turn around and go back the other way.

“You were just down this way not long ago. Now ol’ No. 37’s going to throw a block on this guy, and sooner or later, you’ve got to head towards their goal line so go…

“There’ll be two guys there. Hang a right…”

It was a virtuoso performance, both in execution and daring. How many other coaches would have given that intricate, that detailed a description of the run? Or been so willing (wink, wink) to take credit, all for the public good.

One of Twain’s great gifts, Vonnegut concluded, was his genius for “exploiting the American language’s peculiar powers to surprise and amuse.” He would have loved Bobby Bowden.