Will the real Fulmer please stand up?
Vols coach has plenty of namesakes
By CARTER STRICKLAND
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Published on: 10/07/05
Phil Fulmer doesn't know diddly about college football.
It's the truth. Take it to the bank. Take it to SEC commissioner Mike Slive.
It's truer than a Peyton Manning pass. Fulmer said so himself just Monday night. Out and out admitted. Here's what happened after a 411 search and a few calls placed.
Phone rings.
"This is Phil Fulmer coach of the Tennessee Volunteer football team," Fulmer announced. "I heard you were trying to get in touch with me."
Well, who this side of the Mason Dixon Line isn't? It's Tennessee-Georgia week. No. 5 vs. No. 8. Bluetick vs. Bulldog.
"It's never really been a game I've known a lot about," Fulmer said. "I just watch it. I don't really keep up with Tennessee."
Suddenly, things started to seem suspicious. Surely, Fulmer did more than just watch football. And, before the Q and A on Xs and Os could commence, it all came crashing down faster than Sanford Stadium's goalposts after the 2000 win. A quick check of the caller ID confirmed the sneaking suspicion.
The Phil Fulmer does not live in the 770.
"Yeah, I can get a lot of people going," said Phil Fulmer of Dawsonville. "A lot of times, I just run with it."
Turns out this Phil Fulmer, who is not related to the Phil Fulmer, is a 44-year-old BellSouth employee.
"Besides, I'm better looking and much thinner than that Phil Fulmer," said Dawsonville's Fulmer.
So the search was on again. But not for long.
Three rings in, she picked up and announced, "Yes, I know who Phil Fulmer is."
Hope so because according to the phone book, he lives there. The trail being hot, it was time to get to specifics.
"One year, he got an orange sweater with 'Phil Fulmer' written on it," said Fulmer's wife. "Our son-in-law gave it to him."
Voila. This has to be the guy.
"But he's out bowling right now. Can he call you back?"
Wait a minute, the Phil Fulmer does his bowling in late December and January. Something was amiss. Twenty minutes later, it hit. This wasn't that Phil Fulmer, either.
Undaunted, the search continued. The next Phil Fulmer refused to talk once it was made clear he was talking to the press. This had to be the guy. Coaches hate the press more than the refs and almost as much as the NCAA rule book.
But he was cordial about it, just the way coaches act when the national media is around. Then Phil Fulmer lowered the boom.
"I'm a Gamecock fan anyway," he said.
Swing. And. Miss.
Well, who could blame this Phil Fulmer for not wanting to talk about the Phil Fulmer? The guy has been in his nightmares since that one win in 1992.
On and on it went. The Phil Fulmer of Arkansas had passed away. The one in Marion, S.C., is a reverend. The one in Nashville, well, he's the Phil Fulmer's son. So that was a close one. The one listed in Knoxville never picked up his phone. The listed one in Metairie, La., doesn't have a phone line anymore. (Mostly likely, that's due to Katrina. But it's more fun to think he ripped it out of the wall after watching Les Miles go up against the other Phil Fulmer.)
It slowly became more and more evident we were never going to get to say, in those immortal words of Bud Collyer, "Will the real Phil Fulmer please stand up."
So in despair, one more call was placed.
"Is this Steve Spurrier?"
"You got him."
Finally, someone who can answer the nitty-gritty Xs and Os questions. Maybe.
"Really, I'm just a good arm chair coach when I'm watching the game on TV," said Spurrier, a 38-year-old business owner in Lithia Springs. "I've never met that Steve Spurrier."
Great, here we go again.
Vols coach has plenty of namesakes
By CARTER STRICKLAND
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Published on: 10/07/05
Phil Fulmer doesn't know diddly about college football.
It's the truth. Take it to the bank. Take it to SEC commissioner Mike Slive.
It's truer than a Peyton Manning pass. Fulmer said so himself just Monday night. Out and out admitted. Here's what happened after a 411 search and a few calls placed.
Phone rings.
"This is Phil Fulmer coach of the Tennessee Volunteer football team," Fulmer announced. "I heard you were trying to get in touch with me."
Well, who this side of the Mason Dixon Line isn't? It's Tennessee-Georgia week. No. 5 vs. No. 8. Bluetick vs. Bulldog.
"It's never really been a game I've known a lot about," Fulmer said. "I just watch it. I don't really keep up with Tennessee."
Suddenly, things started to seem suspicious. Surely, Fulmer did more than just watch football. And, before the Q and A on Xs and Os could commence, it all came crashing down faster than Sanford Stadium's goalposts after the 2000 win. A quick check of the caller ID confirmed the sneaking suspicion.
The Phil Fulmer does not live in the 770.
"Yeah, I can get a lot of people going," said Phil Fulmer of Dawsonville. "A lot of times, I just run with it."
Turns out this Phil Fulmer, who is not related to the Phil Fulmer, is a 44-year-old BellSouth employee.
"Besides, I'm better looking and much thinner than that Phil Fulmer," said Dawsonville's Fulmer.
So the search was on again. But not for long.
Three rings in, she picked up and announced, "Yes, I know who Phil Fulmer is."
Hope so because according to the phone book, he lives there. The trail being hot, it was time to get to specifics.
"One year, he got an orange sweater with 'Phil Fulmer' written on it," said Fulmer's wife. "Our son-in-law gave it to him."
Voila. This has to be the guy.
"But he's out bowling right now. Can he call you back?"
Wait a minute, the Phil Fulmer does his bowling in late December and January. Something was amiss. Twenty minutes later, it hit. This wasn't that Phil Fulmer, either.
Undaunted, the search continued. The next Phil Fulmer refused to talk once it was made clear he was talking to the press. This had to be the guy. Coaches hate the press more than the refs and almost as much as the NCAA rule book.
But he was cordial about it, just the way coaches act when the national media is around. Then Phil Fulmer lowered the boom.
"I'm a Gamecock fan anyway," he said.
Swing. And. Miss.
Well, who could blame this Phil Fulmer for not wanting to talk about the Phil Fulmer? The guy has been in his nightmares since that one win in 1992.
On and on it went. The Phil Fulmer of Arkansas had passed away. The one in Marion, S.C., is a reverend. The one in Nashville, well, he's the Phil Fulmer's son. So that was a close one. The one listed in Knoxville never picked up his phone. The listed one in Metairie, La., doesn't have a phone line anymore. (Mostly likely, that's due to Katrina. But it's more fun to think he ripped it out of the wall after watching Les Miles go up against the other Phil Fulmer.)
It slowly became more and more evident we were never going to get to say, in those immortal words of Bud Collyer, "Will the real Phil Fulmer please stand up."
So in despair, one more call was placed.
"Is this Steve Spurrier?"
"You got him."
Finally, someone who can answer the nitty-gritty Xs and Os questions. Maybe.
"Really, I'm just a good arm chair coach when I'm watching the game on TV," said Spurrier, a 38-year-old business owner in Lithia Springs. "I've never met that Steve Spurrier."
Great, here we go again.
