Shadow Man Chronicles.(the Fulmer Curse) VOLume II

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volssam

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#1
Ok. If you remember, last year I posted a historical fiction (emphasis on fiction) story about why we seem to have so much bad luck. And it was the background story of the Fulmer Curse.

Well lately I have had some thoughts bouncing in my head about Butch and his trying to get us to get back on top. And about the Shadow Man. Ha. So I started writing a little about it.

I wrote the ending first. And then I went back to the beginning and it kept growing. And so I decided I would hold off on the ending and another chapter or two in the middle and just post this first part first.

Also, for those who didn't ever see the first one, I will post it below the new one. If you wanna read it.

Anyways I hope you enjoy it. GO VOLS!
 
#2
#2
VOLume II
Chapter 1

October 5, 2013
Knoxville, TN


The surface of the Tennessee River, still illumined by the lights of Neyland Stadium, was in direct contrast to the feelings inside the man standing on its bank.

The water appeared calm as it just rolled on by, placid and unconcerned with the events that had happened earlier that night. And it was ice cold. But inside Butch Jones, a fire raged so hot, he was afraid it might eviscerate his insides. It was burning with a potent mixture of anger, of confusion, of shame, of rage, of a feeling of certainty that an extremely important opportunity had just been ripped from his grasp.

He was deep in thought, staring into the dark river, when he heard a voice behind him.

“Did you see him? Did you see it?”

Phillip Fulmer stepped from behind a tree, looking a little excited, a little anxious. And was that fear in his eyes, Butch wondered? “Good evening,,” Butch offered, even though he felt nothing could be further from the truth.

“Did you? Tell me you did.” Phil insisted, ignoring Butch’s greeting.

“What are you talking about?”

“The Shadow Man.” Phil blurted out, as his eyes left its lock on Butch’s and started darting around in every direction.

“Shadow Man?” Butch questioned. “What are you talking about?” Butch noticed a film of sweat was covering Phil’s face, and that he looked panicked, as his eyes continued to spastically survey their surroundings. “Hey, Phil, you ok?”

Phil’s eyes finally returned to meet Butch’s. And the old, former coach looked confused for a few seconds; then he seemed to gather himself just a little. He knew if he was going to try to explain this crazy mess to the man before him, he would need to appear sane and rational, though he really felt like neither at the moment.

Nevertheless, he straightened himself up and wiped his forehead and eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. And spoke, “Coach, did you see anything out of the ordinary tonight during the game? Did you feel anything? A cold shiver, a bristling along the back of your neck, a sudden strong feeling of dread, fear, confusion, anything.”

Butch replied, “Phil, you were at the game tonight, right? We just missed out on a huge upset. We lost an overtime game to a more talented team in a heart-shattering way. I felt all those things tonight that you just mentioned.”

Phil stepped closer, lifted his arms, and gripped Butch’s shoulders. “This is different. When you sent in the call for your last offensive play, did you feel anything? Were you thinking clearly? Or, when Pig left his feet to dive for the endzone, did you see it? A shifting, or a distortion in the air around him? It was there. I saw it.”

“No.” Butch replied, starting to feel like maybe Phil was starting to lose it in his older years.

Phil pressed on. “So he hasn’t appeared to you, then? Or talked to you, either. Which means I am still the only one around here who can see him. I can tell by the way you are looking at me, thinking I am insane. I know how this sounds, ok? But this is real. And if he hasn’t come to you yet, he will. He came to Kiffin and Dooley.. Why do you think Lane left so quickly? It wasn’t the USC job. Lane knew why Pete Carroll bolted. Lane knew those sanctions were coming. But he didn’t care. He wanted out. As soon as possible. And it wasn’t the mattress burning and the growing mob on the streets that made him flee so fast in the middle of the night, though sometimes I wonder if Shadow had something to do with that whole scene. But that wasn’t it. He was scared out his mind. Shadow had finally come to him, and talked to him. And Lane flipped. I was here. I tried to calm him down. But he wasn’t having it. He said he was done. And by the next week, he was. He fled to California, as far as he could get from here.”

“Wait, you said ‘here’, not ‘there’. “ Butch said.

Phil just looked at him, confused.

Butch continued, “When you said this shadow or whatever appeared to Kiffin, you said you were here. You didn’t say there. You said here.”

“Oh, right. This is where he meets us all. This is where he first came to me. This is where he came to Lane. And Derek. And that’s why I asked you to meet me here tonight.”

Butch looked around, trying to decide if this was some kind of joke, if there were cameras out there somewhere, trying to film a candid camera setup or something.

Phil began to laugh. And at first Butch thought this confirmed his suspicions of a joke, and he was about to get angry, because of all nights, this would be a terrible night for something like this.

And Butch was about to explode and say something about it, but Phil started talking. “Man, you should have seen when it appeared to Dooley. Let’s just say, the first time they met face to face, those fancy orange pants of his didn’t stay fancy or the same color of orange. He didn’t take it well. He was even weaker than his recruiting classes. But he tried to hide it in smug jokes and condescending banter. And of course Shadow didn’t like that. And then Dooley just started walking away, running his fingers through his perfect hair, Shadow yelled that if he took one more step, he would be responsible for the first loss to Kentucky in over a quarter of a century. But Dooley just acted like he didn’t hear him and kept on walking, and Shadow yelled that he could make it even worse if he didn’t stop immediately. And he looked at me and smiled a knowing smile, and then yelled, ‘Kentucky will be playing with a backup QB!’ Derek still kept walking away. And Shadow yelled, ‘Not even a back-up QB! A running back – no, a wide receiver! – you are gonna lose to a Kentucky team playing a wide receiver at quarterback!’ But still, Dooley kept on walking. And man oh man, Shadow did NOT like that. And well, you see how Derek’s tenure turned out. It had people wishing that I was back or had never left.”

Phil actually started to grin a little, but he stopped a second later because the lights of Neyland shut off, throwing them into sudden darkness, at least until their eyes were able to adjust a little. Butch felt Phil draw closer to him.

“Do you feel that?” Fulmer asked.

“All I feel is your hot breath assaulting my nose, coach. How many Petros did you have tonight, man?”

But Butch Jones stopped talking as he actually did feel a tickle across the back of his neck. And he heard something. It sounded like a cackling almost. A laugh. But not exactly a human one. And not constant. It sounded like it was carried on the wind, and was audible only a second or two at a time before it whipped away. Butch began to look around.

“He’s here,” Phil said.

“What? Who? Who’s here? I don’t see anyone.”

But Phil didn’t answer. His eyes, a little wider now, were fixed over Butch’s right shoulder.

“Phil? Phil. Who’s here?” Butch asked.

But still, Phil remained silent. But Butch could tell he was concentrating intensely, and giving slight nods, like he was engaged in a conversation, albeit a one-sided one.

Butch, again, turned around, his eyes searching every direction, trying but failing to see what it was that held Phil’s frightened attention. Butch turned back to Phil, just in time to hear him murmur, “OK, I’ll tell him.” And then Phil lowered his eyes to stare at the ground, and a few seconds later, the wind suddenly stopped blowing, and the lighting around them, unless it was Butch’s imagination, noticeably increased.

Butch spoke up, his voice fraught with frustration. “Phil, what just happened? Phil, talk to me right now. I am not in the mood for this.”

Phil timidly replied, “It was him. Shadow man. He told me to welcome you to Knoxville, and he said to tell you to get ready for a rough and disappointing tenure here. And to warn you that if you want a lasting career as a head coach, you better take the first opportunity you can to leave. ”

Butch, clearly tired of this whole situation, shot back, “This again? The shadow man? Who is it? What’s going on?”

Phil started shaking his head, sweat still pouring down his face. “It’s my fault. It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.”

Butch started snapping his fingers. “Hey, coach; hey, look at me, man. What’s going on? What’s your fault?”

Phil looked up at Butch. “Do you remember much about our championship run in 1998?”

Butch nodded. “Of course. You know history and tradition are a big deal to me.”

Phil went on. “Well, if you’ll remember, there were some things that happened that year, that were unbelievable, almost miraculous even.”

Butch nodded again, “The Stoerner Stumble.”

Phil nodded in kind. “Yes, that, and other things. The questionable pass interference call at Syracuse. The multiple fumbles inside our territory by Florida, the missed kick in OT, and…” Phil looked down at the ground again as he paused for a couple of seconds, and then continued, “Chris Weinke getting injured, so that we faced a backup quarterback in the title game.” Phil looked back up at Butch, and gave him a wry smirk. “Don’t worry, you will thank me for that one at some point, I’m sure.”

Butch jumped in, “So what are you getting at, Phillip?"

Fulmer replied, “I made a deal with him. I put a curse on us. I sold out the future well-being of this football program to ensure our success and title in 1998. I stood right here where we are standing, and I shook that thing’s hand, even though everything in my soul was screaming at me to not do it, to just walk, no, to RUN, away. But I didn’t. I’m sorry. Peyton had just finished his career here, and I hadn’t gotten a national title out of it. I was ambitious, as Majors could tell you, and I wanted that title. I was weak. And I made the deal. But as it turned out, it was apparently conditional, and he came back to me later and wanted to make another deal, a deal involving backup QBs. And again my greed for glory overtook me, and I made the deal again. I hadn’t learned. And I figured that if I had come that far, what’s a little more? But boy was I ever wrong. And now look where we are. Look how far we have fallen.”

Phil locked eyes with Butch again, and added a sympathetic nod. “Listen, I believe in you, coach. I believe you are a good coach, a hard and relentless worker, and a good man. I believe under other circumstances, you would be very successful here. But I am telling you, it won’t work out for you here. I’m sorry.”

Butch stayed silent for a few moments, keeping eye contact with Phillip. Fulmer couldn’t read Butch nor what he might be thinking. He felt deep sorrow and regret about this whole situation. It was his fault, after all. He had seen his beloved alma mater suffer from a decision he had made. And the sad thing was, it wasn’t like he could come out and talk about it and express his immense remorse about what he had done, what he had caused. He would come off looking like someone who had lost his mind. Surprisingly, neither Lane nor Derek had betrayed the secret so far. But, of course, they each had enormous egos that would probably ensure their silence.

But what about this man before him? Fulmer truly meant what he had said about Butch Jones just seconds earlier. He liked what he saw in him, and he really did think Butch had the makings of a greatly successful coach. But it just wouldn’t happen for him here. Not with the Shadow hanging over the Hill. Phillip remained silent, giving Butch time to process and form a response.

However, no words came out of Jones’s mouth. The seemingly emotionless look of deep thought disappeared from Butch’s face, and it was replaced with a look of dogged determination. Then, he placed both of his hands on Fulmer’s shoulders, gripped them, and simply nodded to the elder coach. Then he began to march away, in the direction of his office, the place he spent more time inside than his own home.

Phil turned and spoke up. “What, that’s it? You’ve got nothing to say?”

Butch kept marching, a certain exhibition of bravado and purpose in that march.

Phil continued, “You don’t believe me. Is that it? You think I’m crazy?”

Butch finally stopped, and turned, and faced in the direction of the vast cathedral, known as Neyland Stadium, the place where he hoped to end his coaching career many years down the road. “No, Phillip.”

Phil spoke louder, “I knew you wouldn’t belie—“
Butch cut him off. “No, I don’t think you’re crazy.”

That threw Fulmer for a loop. Lane and Derek both took more convincing. But here was Butch, already seemingly putting his trust into this untrustworthy-sounding story.

Butch continued to stare at Neyland Stadium. It was huge, almost as huge as the challenge before Jones, when he took over this struggling program. But it was a challenge that he thought was well worth it. Because this was the best program in the country, in his opinion. And he wanted to restore it to where it belonged.

He spoke, “I don’t think you’re crazy, Phil. I am.” He turned and looked back at Phillip. “I am crazy. That’s what people kept telling me when I decided to take over as coach here. They said it was too big of a job. The fans were too impatient and wouldn’t give me time to be successful. They said with the tough conference the SEC had become, rebuilding here would be too monumental of a task. They said I was crazy, Phil. And you know what? Maybe I am. And maybe the whole tale you rattled off to me was 100 % true. And maybe I don’t care. And maybe this shadow coward is gonna find out just how crazy I am. Because I will not rest; I will not give up until we raise another championship banner here. So if he has anything to say to me about that, you tell him to come see me. I am not running off to the Pacific coast, and I am not walking away with deaf ears and my head down. I am here! RIGHT HERE! And I WILL BE right here! So, shadow man or not, curse or not, I am gonna be the head football coach of a championship team for the Big Orange!”

And with that said, Butch Jones turned back around and started his deliberate march back to Anderson Training Center.

Fulmer just stood there speechless, just staring at Butch Jones, as he got further and further away. And while still harboring doubt and fear and sadness and regret, he stared admirably at the current coach of his beloved Vols, and for the first time in many years, he felt hope.
 
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#3
#3
And here is my original:


CHAPTER 1
Knoxville, TN
January 1998

It is 1998 . Fulmer has just squandered 3.5 years of having possibly the best QB to ever play the game of football. He was even gifted an extra year and chance with this phenom by Manning deciding to come back for his Senior year. And he came out with no national title. Only one SEC title that he barely scraped out by one point.

But something happens in the offseason.

What is it? A meeting.

When did it happen? The week after getting dismantled by Nebraska.

Where did the fateful meeting take place? On the banks of the Tennessee River, beneath the looming shadowy, dark but glorious shape of Neyland Stadium, against the backdrop of a cold January early morning sky, in the hour before dawn.

Who is there? Phil... Phil and one other person. No, that's not right. Not a person. Not exactly. Maybe Phil is alone? But that's not exactly right either.

There seems to be a presence of some kind that one could see if they weren't looking directly at the area occupied by Phil. But sort of out of the periphery. There! There it is. There is someone, someTHING, there. It appears to be wearing shades, even though it is still dark outside.

It is tough to see exactly what he/it looks like, except for one unmistakable feature: his smile. It is one of mirth. Of Cunning and glee. One that would send shivers down your back were you to look directly at it.

And now Phil, timidly at first, and then after apparently reaching a final, tortured decision within himself, more deliberately reaches out his right hand to shake with the shadow-man.

A deal has been struck. One that would turn the fate of Phil and his beloved Volunteers for years and years and years to come.



CHAPTER 2
Syracuse, NY
September 5, 1998

It is the 4th quarter of a hard-fought, close game with the Orangemen of Syracuse and their dynamic and exciting QB Donovan McNabb.

Tennessee is playing it's first game with Manning's successor: an athletic kid from Mobile, AL fittingly named TEE Martin.

UT is down by two points. This young man Martin is trying to drive the Vols down the field into FG position for an attempt at a win.

But a 4th down pass hits the ground. Incomplete.

First game of the season. A loss. A wave of Disbelief and shock and sadness hit Vols fans and players. Especially Phil. He can't believe it.

But that only lasts for a couple seconds. There is a flag. Pass interference on the defense!!! It was a bang-bang play. A close call that could have went UNcalled. But not here. Not today.

Phil rubs his right hand, the same hand he used to shake with the figure on the banks of the mighty Tennessee River. He rubs the hand. And he smirks. Could it have truly worked?

A few moments later, a kick from Jeff Hall sails through the uprights in the Carrier Dome, and secures a Tennessee victory: 34-33. Phil is ecstatic. But there is something, a seed of something foreboding and dark, that is also planted deep within him. He ignores it...for now....




CHAPTER 3
Knoxville, TN
September 19, 1998

After a game of insanely good (borderline unbelievable? hmmmm....) defensive plays by Al Wilson (multiple fumbles, including near the goal line) and Deon Grant (Air Jordan interception), the Vols force the second-ranked Gators into an OT.

The Vols' have possession first. A holding knocks them back to the outer edges if the clutch but still human Jeff Hall's FG range.

Fulmer feels a twinge of skepticism and fear.

But Tee makes a play with his legs to get UT back solidly into FG range. Jeff Hall does Jeff Hall, and connects on a field goal to put Tennessee up three points.

Now it's FL's possession: UT holds them to a 4th down. And they now have what is basically a chip shot FG attempt to force a second OT.

Just before the snap, Spurrier feels a cold breeze across the back of his neck which causes him to remove his visor.

The ball is snapped. It sails wide left. And the fans storm the field. Pandemonium. Reigns. And Phil almost wants to cry with joy.

In the midst of the craziness, Phil catches sight of one of the goal posts falling, and so he looks over and there in the midst of the mass of humanity, he sees a man in all black and dark sunglasses, standing completely still, staring straight at him. The man smiles. Phil physically canNOT pull his eyes away from the smiling man. Then, he gets bumped by an excited fan. Phil looks at the wild college kid, who upon recognizing the coach, apologizes profusely, then runs on.

Phil looks back to where the man in black had been standing. But he is gone...




CHAPTER 4
Knoxville, TN
November 14, 1998.

Tennessee is a freshly-crowned number one in the rankings. And they face an undefeated and too ten Arkansas team.

Phil has settled into the comfort of the deal he made several months ago, and reaching number one has helped solidify that confidence that the deal has worked. But it's about to be put to the test....

When he wakes that morning, the shadow-man is there at his bedside. At first, Phil thinks it's a dream, that he is still asleep.

But the darkness speaks, "If you want to win today, ask yourself these two questions...what does bama think of you? And what does he eat?" And just like that, The shadow-man vanishes.

Phil cries out, "Wait! What does who eat? What about bama? Wait..."

Nothing. It all happened so fast, Phil is still wondering if perhaps he imagined it. But he feels the burning on his right hand. And he knows in his massive gut that it is for real. But he is still puzzled.

He gets ready and departs for campus, worried that his deal seems to have somehow become conditional all of a sudden....

Arkansas jumps out to a 21-3 lead. Phil is worried, racking his brain about the riddles the being posed to him earlier that morning. What could it mean?

The season, the glory, the place in history. It is now all on the line.

Finally Tennessee shows life, and they come roaring back in the game.

They are within four points. It is 24-20. And Arkansas is about to punt it back to them.

The ball is snapped. It flies over the punter's head and into the end zone!

"This is it!" Phil thinks. And for a brief moment, he dares to forget about the questions posed by the dark deal-maker.

But then, Arkansas' punter makes a brilliant decision and boots it out of the back of the end zone...

A safety. 2 points. Not seven. Tennessee is still behind 24-22.

Phil's heart begins to pound. His palms sweat. His right hand burns like fire. And he thinks for a moment he hears a laugh.

It is Tennessee's ball. They drive to midfield. But now they are facing a fourth down.

Phil tries to strain his brain one last time for an answer to the morning's questions, hoping he can get a clue to what he needs to do to pull out a victory. But he draws a blank.

And on fourth down, Martin's pass is incomplete.

Turnover on downs. Only 1:54 remaining. And UT only has one timeout.

"It's over," Phil thinks. "I can't believe it's over. After I made that deal. All I gave up. And now it's over..."

Phil stands there in a daze. And then he starts to get mad. At himself, yes. But even more at the shadow-man. "He promised me last January. He promised me! That dirty rat! He lied to---RAT! Bama fans think I'm a rat!...A RAT!!!...but what-- Ratliff!!!"

Phil turns in a frenzy, searching out Number 40.

He finds the big man. And he runs to him, as he is pulling his helmet on.

"Billy! Son, you've gotta make a play! It's gotta be you. I know it! I know it because I...I...I just have a feeling! Get in there and make something happen! You can do it! It's gotta be YOU!"

On 1st down, Ratliff makes a tackle for a two yard loss, his first tackle of the whole game.

Phil calls his final timeout. 1:47 left.

Man it's gonna be close. But Phil feels it. He is on the right track.

Prior to 2nd down, Ratliff looks to the sideline and makes eye contact with Coach Fulmer. Phil nods. Ratliff nods. Then he gets down in his stance in front of a massive lineman named Burlsworth who has gotten the better of Ratliff all game long until that previous play. Ratliff is poised and tense and ready to spring forward.

The ball is snapped. Ratliff shoots forward, and with a burst of strength, he knocks Burlsworth back into the Razorback QB, Clint Stoerner, and something seemingly miraculous takes place.

The QB tries to balance himself WITH THE FOOTBALL on the ground, and it slips from the hIs hand. The ball is sitting there, on the ground, Just waiting to be claimed.

Time seems to slow, as Billy Ratliff makes his move and leaps into the free ball. Tennessee gains possession around midfield.

The crowd erupts into disbelieving jubilation! It's insanity.

Phil is so elated, he has forgotten about question two.

"And what does he eat?" Phil actually mutters this out loud, over and over, as he thinks about it in his head.

He begins to panic momentarily as he tries to think who the "he" could be referring to. He thinks, "it has to be in reference to the answer to the first question...rat...what does a rat eat? CHEESE!!!"

Phil gets on his headset and calls out to his OC, David Cutcliffe, who is known to be an offensive genius. "Run Henry!" Coach Fulmer screams.

"What?" Cutcliffe asks in surprise. "But we are out of timeouts. The clock will run. We have no way to stop it."

"Give Henry the ball. No matter what. I don't care what the clock says. I don't care where the ball is. I don't care what down it is. You hand that ball off to Travis Henry! Every play!"

"You're the boss." Cutcliffe concedes.

And Five plays later, Travis "Cheese" Henry, leaps into the end zone to give Tennessee the lead 28-24, which ends up being the final score. Tennessee stays perfect and in the title hunt.



CHAPTER 5
Atlanta, GA
December 5, 1998


Tennessee is one of four undefeated teams still left in the country - Tulane, Kansas State, and UCLA being the other three ( the latter two being the only real threats) - which means there is a possibility the Vols could beat Mississippi State and win the SEC, yet still be left out of the Fiesta Bowl, which is to determine the national champ in this inaugural season of the BCS.

Three undefeated contenders start the day out....

Shadow pays a visit to Phil as he shaves that morning.

"Morning Phillip"

Phil jumps at the sound that seems to come from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. He looks in the mirror, and there in the dark corner of the hotel bathroom, a figure can barely be made out, further given away by a glint of light off the dark sunglasses and a flash of stark white where Phil guessed his mouth would be.

"Goodness, you scared me," Phil says. "I was wondering if I would see you today. I assume our deal is still all good?"

"Well that's what I wanted to talk to you about, Phillip." Shadow-man claps his hands together twice then holds them together in front of him. "I have some fun planned for today. But to execute it all may use up all the power left in our deal."

"What?!" Phil shouts, disbelief and shock evident in his voice. "You never said anything about a cap or limit to the deal!!"

"Well I never thought I would need to intervene as much as I had to the last few months, Phillip," Shadow replies. "I mean you WERE there when you won the Arkansas game, right? That used just about everything in the tank right there. That was insane Phillip." The thing begins to laugh, and it's the type of laugh that haunts the nightmares of millions of children around the globe. "Insane! A game for the ages, don't you agree? Oh, And way to come through on the riddles, by the way. I was beginning to think you were going to let it all slip away. Oh RATS. That would have been pretty funny, huh? You see what I did there? I said "Rats!" Hahaha. Kind of CHEESY, isn't it. Oh look. I did it again. I could keep going but I see you're in the mood for a STOERNER topic of conversation." Shadow-man begins to giggle. Actually giggle.

Phil rolls his eyes."Oh yeah. That was all real cute. Real cute....listen now, this is garbage about the limit. That can't be right."

"Let's just see how today goes. And we'll see what you need afterwards," Shadow answers.

"Can I pick between K-State and UCLA as far as who I wanna play for the title. Is that allowed?"

"Oh Phillip, Phillip. You still have things to learn. Rellllaaaxxx, good man. Have a donut. And enjoy today. You paid for- errr- I mean, you earned it." The smile again. "You have earned it"

As the day progresses, UCLA falls to Edgerrin James and the Hurricanes of Miami, in a game that was supposed to be played earlier in the year but had to be rescheduled due to a hurricane. Phil can almost hear the Shadow-man laughing at the irony, and he wonders if he in fact orchestrated it.

Then a little later, Kansas State falls to the Aggies of Texas A&M, who are led to victory by none other than a former player of Fulmer and the Vols: QB Brandon Stewart. Again the ironic storyline there makes Phil uneasy and suspiciously amazed.

So two of the unbeatens have gone down.

Later that night, in the Georgia dome, Tennessee trails Mississippi State. But the Vols, once again proving to be an apparent team of destiny, somehow pull out a 24-14 victory.

Standing there holding the SEC Championship trophy, Phil wonders if this victory came from their own production, or if he had a little "help". And mostly, he is worried about that warning about running low on that help.

He finds out soon enough...

Later that evening, as most Vols are celebrating, Phil steps outside the hotel to steal a moment to himself.

As he stands there, the light on the balcony flickers for a few seconds, and Phil hears a noise that he thinks sounds like groaning and then a little fainter, the sound of shrieks, and even fainter still, the sound of many children crying.

Phil knows he is there. "Come on out and let's get this over with"

The dark shape steps from around the corner. "Now Phil, is that any way to treat the fulfiller of your dreams," shadow-man spreads his arms wide theatrically. "The grantee of your wishes, the bringer of your glory....Why, Phil, did you know that one day, they're gonna name a street after you?!"

Phil's eyes glaze for a moment, then responds, "oh don't act like you're doing me favors. You know how much this is costing me, costing this school, its fans, its future. The misery --"

Phil turns quickly away, suddenly overcome with many emotions, prominent among them, despair and regret.

Shadow-man draws himself (itself?) up to a bigger height, taller than would be possible for even the largest human male, and whispers in a harsh, dark, and forceful tone, "Don't you DARE try to put this on me. I TOLD you what the future would be like. And YOU, Phillip, decided to shake my hand. YOU decided to pay the price set before you. YOU risked it all. I didn't force you!"

Phil just stands there, not moving, with his eyes focused solely on the ground at his feet... Well, let's get real...at the ground a couple of feet in front of his feet. He does not speak. Does not make a sound.

Shadow speaks up, "Now that that is out of the way, let's talk about your final payment."

Phil wheels around sharply and almost falls over from the momentum. He restores his balance, stands, and indignantly says, "what do you mean final payment? WHAT DO YOU MEAN?! No. No way. No way. The price I have paid is already too steep. Are you insane?"

Phil starts speaking in a little higher octave and at a little faster pace as he recounts the dear price he agreed to pay under the looming gaze of Neyland nearly a year ago now: "Years upon years of bad football and freakishly, borderline unbelievably bad luck, horrible results, with only a few bright spots sprinkled in, which only serves to ensure that I will be kept around longer and draw out the slow and steady and painful decline of this program that I love more than almost anything in my life. And no matter how much I will plead, no matter how much I will beg to keep my job because I and only I know what will be coming, your twisted little mind has set it up so that after I am humiliated and fired, that - unknown to the fans and the administration - the decline and collapse and problems and horrible luck will only be accelerated. The program will dragged through the mud. Will scrape the bottom. Will lose to KENTUCKY!!! ....All for one national title. And you are telling me that all of that is not enough of a price to pay!!!"

"Phillip, please listen to me. You have been given the same amount of help and luck as any other coach that has made a similar deal in the past. You just burned through yours before you could reach the national title game. By the way, How'd you like that touch of having Brandon Stewart win the Big 12 title and knock off one of your fellow contenders? I thought that was fun."

"Yeah it was really entertaining," Phil replies, with no hint of having enjoyed it at all. "Really entertaining.....Now you listen to me. Why don't you take your dark and diabolical deals and deceptions, and leave me and this team alone. We will win the title on our own."

"Oh Philip, don't make such a brash decision. Something you may regret. You're gonna be playing Florida State."

Phil's eyes widen, revealing a momentary feeling of fear. He quickly throws back up a facade of confident determination. "I don't care. We can beat them... Without you."

Shadow asks, "you think so?" He then smiles again, and just stares at Phil, keeping the grin in place the whole time. And Neither one says anything for about 30 seconds.

Finally Phil's resolve weakens enough that he breaks his stare.

Shadow says, "ok Phil, have it your way. It'd be a shame to get this far and not win it all. But you are free to take your chances, of course."

He then begins to walk away slowly. Phil's emotions and thoughts are a mixture of doubt, fear, anxiety, and some relief.

But just before rounding the corner, Shadow turns on his heel, and with a side smirk, says, "UnLESS....you want to make a different kind of deal."

Phil tilts his head up, intrigued but skeptical and fearful, and he asks, "A different deal? What are you talking about?"

Shadow takes a couple of steps toward Fulmer and says, "what if we make a separate and unique deal that doesn't necessarily GUARANTEE a win, but would greatly improve your chances?"

Fulmer thinks for a few seconds, then gives in, nods, and asks, "ok, I'm a little bit interested. What are we talking about here?"

Shadow smiles again, and Coach Fulmer starts absent-mindedly rubbing the palm of his right hand.

Shadow proceeds, "what if I make absolutely sure Chris Weinke is ruled out for the game?"

Fulmer can't hide his interest in this development.

Shadow sees he has him and pushes on to finish him off: "What if you have to compete for a NATIONAL...TITLE....playing against their backup QB?"

Phil realizes he is reaching out to shake the shadow-man's hands without even really meaning to. He jerks it back quickly, and asks the question he fears the answer to: "what's the twist? The catch?"

Shadow says, "oh, it's nothing too bad, Phillip." He pauses, then adds, "It's just that Tennessee will never, EVER win another game when a backup QB takes over during in a game or is making his first start."

This makes Phil take a short step back as he considers the states consequence of making this deal. He wasn't expecting that.

He tries to weigh the benefit vs the risk. He finally convinces himself that it would be ok because how many times do you really run into that specific situation??

He takes another minute to think it over a little more. He looks over and sees the Shadow-man standing there, looking at him with his terrible and wicked smile, and sees that it has its hand stretched out towards him.

Phil steps forward. He timidly reaches out. And as he is about to shake hands, he has to look away. He can't watch himself shake hands with this evil thing again. But, while keeping his eyes averted, he goes on and forces his hand into the shadow-man's hand.

And he shakes it.
 
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#8
#8
This **** is fantastic. The original is one of my favorite posts of all time. Great stuff, volssam thanks.
 
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#18
#18
This just became non-fiction in my eyes. It all makes to much sense, volssam. Nicely done :clap:

I refuse to believe that Kiffin and Saban (and Meyer) didn't make deals also.

Fulmer's was focused on the university, not himself. Saban's was for him and all of his male descendants to continuously shrink physically for each title he won. Kiffin's was to keep getting prestigious jobs anywhere an opening was available, but to never win or be successful as a head coach on a grand scale.

Meyer's is of course going to be Tebow related when it comes out, because Tebow is the actual physical vessel for this crossroads demon.
 

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