Speed: Part 3

By Phil Williams

FYI I expect to write one more in what I have called “Speed” and then I will close this ‘tribute series’ out with a face-to-face meeting I had with Coach Bowden in 2020. Thanks for tagging along…

“Speed: Part 3”

(AKA: “All Wide Receivers are Prima Donnas”)

Coach Bowden had proven to me that he had no problem throwing me the ball during my first three seasons, especially in crucial situations, so I was quite comfortable that heading into my senior season I was “safe”.

What do I mean? Well, I had always felt like I might have been the only FSU player that was playing for my job with every single snap - in games AND at practice. Perhaps I was being a bit tough on myself, but that is essentially how I saw it. However, I had a good feeling heading into 1981.

Sure, I knew we had signed highly heralded Jesse Hester (future 1st round draft choice in the NFL), but I did not expect a freshman to take snaps from me. And Dennis McKinnon was back, as well (future starter for the 1985 Super Bowl Champs, the Chicago Bears), not to mention the return of Tony Johnson, another really good player. Okay, okay, maybe I was not as confident as I let on.

At any rate, the season began at home against Louisville. I swear, nobody in Doak Campbell Stadium covered as much ground as I did that day. Maybe no one anywhere in the country! I was in for almost every snap, running in motion more times than not, barely stopping in the huddle long enough to catch a breath. But not one pass thrown my way! Not one! Dennis caught five and the freshman caught three and even Weegie Thompson (future NFL daft choice and contributor for the Pittsburgh Steelers) caught one.

Me?

ZERO!

And did I mention this was my senior season?

I knew that there was an intent to throw some to Hester, and I definitely understood. He was perhaps the highest ranked wide receiver FSU had ever signed, and with afterburners! Hey, he was nicknamed “The Jet” for a reason. He had the coveted speed I’ve written about.

But as the AKA title above suggests, we wide receivers are a bit, I don’t know…SELFISH! We want the damn ball! Sure, my name had been called out perhaps more than any other on the broadcasts in the Louisville game, but it was pretty much only, “Williams wide right. Now Williams is in motion” or “Williams wide left. Williams in motion.”

Why do I share all this? Because on Monday morning I just about knocked Coach Bowden’s door down (I think I just blasted by Miss Sue) and stomped on into his office, pretty much hyperventilating. I’m not kidding. Coach Bowden was probably about to reach for his phone and dial the medics, his eyes widening and his unlit cigar drooping out of his mouth.

Between pathetic little grunts and sniffles - yes, I had tears in my eyes - I basically said something to the effect that I would LITERALLY DIE if that happened again. How on earth could they do such a thing? Of course I couched it all strategically within the context of winning games, and how I was certain he would need my catches to help win those games, all the time reaching up to scrub the tears off of my face.

Coach Bowden listened quietly and let me get it all out.

I sort of expected him to snarl, “Get out of here, you pussy! And grab your stuff from your locker on the way out!”

But he didn’t. He just nodded his head and asked (almost in an ‘I’ll be darned’ kind of way), “So, we didn’t throw you any?”

“No sir.” Sniffle…sniffle.

He nodded some more.

“Well, that was not the intent, Philip, just how it worked out. I don’t expect that will be the case from here on out.”

Now, I reckon he might have wanted to call me a selfish prick, but he didn’t. Didn’t promise me the moon. either. But he did assure me that I was an important piece going forward, and to try not to let one game bother me.

I wiped the last tear off my face with the back of my hand and turned to leave.

“Philip.”

I looked back.

“It’s gonna be okay.”

He smiled and secured the cigar between his lips, and I said thanks.

Two weeks later we kicked off what would become known as “Octoberfest” - five games in a row against national powerhouses, all on the road - and I had the best stretch of my career (16 catches for 300 yards and a TD). Fred Biletnikoff would have been embarrassed with those numbers. But me? I couldn’t complain.

In fact, I ended up leading the team in receiving yards for the season.

Even if it had started a bit slow!

I can look back now and see the insecurities and selfishness that I exhibited, and how Coach Bowden handled it so graciously. I wonder how many others he had had to put up with, other players who might have barged in on him blabbering away like I did (and perhaps even with their own tears).

I bet it was a few.

And I bet he handled them all with grace and respect.

Like he did with me.