With Week Zero and several Atlantic Coast Conference upsets behind us (it is the end of the season, not the beginning that counts though), finally football fans enjoyed a full weekend of real games over Labor Day.

A humbled Clemson program, still with plenty of recruits and Coach William Christopher Swinney, drove a few hours down I-85 for their big-time opening game.

Saturday’s game brought back great memories of Clemson games spanning a quarter century; many of those intersected with some of the greatest theologians of the day. Seriously—read on.

But initially, here are two words of general explanation: First, any righteous person will always oppose a team whose main color is orange—the color of flames, indicating allegiance to hellfire and brimstone. So, if you are a football neophyte, simply note the uniform’s palette and cheer against Tennessee, Auburn, Florida, Clemson, Syracuse, Clemson, etc.

Second, our featured team this week represents a fine university, named after its founder (Clemson), and its three commended virtues: Shivalry, Onor, and Nahledge. Just repeat the joke that pokes fun at redneck illiteracy, first told to me by an Auburn fan—so evidently there is some gradation even among the orange legion.

I will never forget my first Clemson experience at Death Valley in 2000 (when Nebraska was the pre-season #1 pick). Our family was on its first of many college tours for my oldest child, and many of her classmates went to Clemson. Since we were heading through there, I let a friend know, and he invited us to join his family for a game, complete with learned descriptions of previous legends, the Frank Howard days, William “The Refrigerator” Perry memories, and pounding the rock as the team enters (occasionally an enthusiastic player trips). It was a beautiful afternoon of tailgating in a massive parking lot adjacent to the stadium. It is truly one of the best environments for college football—Clemson is both a great town and a program that is envied by most.

Clemson was heavily favored on that beautiful October weekend of 2000, and our friends were superb hosts. We loved the atmosphere and the game. . . Until the final minute, that is, when a scrappy Georgia Tech quarterback broke a few tackles in his backfield and hit a receiver in the endzone corner to upset the host Tigers, 31-28. Our friends were despairing, disconsolate, depressed, downcast. Did I mention they were dejected? As we bid our farewell and trudged in Atlanta-like traffic in the middle of nowhere, I was sure that our friends would make it to church the next day, be revived by excellent worship, and have a more eternal perspective reset. Or at least I thought they would.

As we left the stadium, we headed off for another college walkabout, and without any prior planning, dad’s obsessive-compulsive traveling led us to visit the in-state rival to Clemson, where two of our daughters eventually landed. Being a USC Gamecock fan is another story for another day, but I think Steve Spurrier led the South Carolina team to a victory over Clemson in some daughter’s student days.

Jetting forward many years, my next intersection of Clemson football and great theologians occurred near the site of the Heidelblog International Headquarters (hereafter, HIH). In the years just prior to Covid, Clemson and Alabama played for the national championship title three out of four years (2016–2019). They were great games, enjoyed by my wife, myself, and the finest seminary president (FSP) and his wife. Except on occasion, we had yet another eminent theological guest join us.

That native SoCal guest (who boasts of being the 1975 pledge captain for a frat at the University of Southern California—the branding imitator of the University of South Carolina, I maintain) and I were teaching a week-long class on Reformed worship at a seminary near the HIH. On the first day of class in 2016 (only hours before the big kickoff), I tried to make the point that worship is so important that it should not be approached casually or without preparation. I asked the twenty-five students what they would do special if they had a date for that night’s big event. The clueless class had no idea what event would occur later that Monday night. I thought they were joking, only to learn this was California. The only person who knew how special the night was happened to be a mom who was auditing the class. She, however, was an Alabama grad who grasped true cultural significance. She was on campus with her husband (a sometimes Nebraska fan) who went on to big things and served on the seminary board. I think she even muttered “Roll tide” a bit under her breath, fearful that the class of library-guys would think less of her.

Notwithstanding, we gathered to watch a classic Clemson v. Alabama championship in the hotel’s sports bar. We were joined by the big steeple guy, who co-taught the worship course with me. During most of the first half, however, he robbed us of any joy by delivering an unending jeremiad on the decline of the West as seen in its presidential elections. Several times, I pretended to go to the restroom or take a call just so I could watch the game beclouded by such seriousness.

In that game, Deshaun Watson (a quarterback stolen from another state, which also later contributed Trevor Lawrence to Clemson—both of whom went on to NFL fame) fell a tad short, losing to Bama 45-40; but that loss was avenged by Watson the following year, along with two Clemson national titles in 2018–2019 under Lawrence, the future first round NFL pick.

Clemson has one of the most tenured coaches (since 2009, tantamount to a thirty-year pastorate) among major programs. His brother, Tripp, mispronounced him generically as “Dat Boy,” which became Dabo (later trademarked in 2013). William “Dabo” Swinney had been a walk-on wide receiver at Alabama, where he later coached as an assistant. With Nick Saban’s retirement, Swinney (not a transfer portal fan) is the highest paid college football coach, now able to tithe $1.1M annually if he wishes. Coach Swinney is another vocal Christian coach,¹ whose program and goals are to point to Christ, and he is establishing a pipeline of mentored assistant coaches—Oklahoma coach Brent Venables was one who was pilfered from Clemson and now will be competing in the SEC. Of his conversion, Swinney confessed: “I think that I made a decision when I was sixteen—I grew up in a family that I was taught there was a God and all that, but I didn’t really have a relationship with Christ until I was sixteen. And that was a game changer for me. That’s really become the foundation of my life.”²

So, this storied program was hoping to return to the greatness of playing for four national trophies in a five-year period,³ but it clearly has work to do. Its color, however, is still orange (but at least it is not Vol Orange). Great coaches, future pro players, and incredible traditions all meet on Saturdays in the fall. Football and friends—it is a great time of year.

My joke (instead of a priest, a rabbi, and a preacher enter a bar) could be: A PCA elder, a big steeple pastor, and the finest seminary president combine to form part of our Clemson memories, regardless of who wins the game.

Notes

1. Andrew Boardwine, “Dabo Swinney: Faith that Won’t be Shaken,” Clemson Tiger’s Pulse.
2. Zach Lentz, “Dabo Swinner’s Faith is More Important Than Trophies,” Clemson Tigers On SI, July 16, 2021.
3. For historians, see the summary of this rivalry—complete with lots of big hair in the 1980s audience and the classic announcing by Larry Munson—at “UGA Football: The Incredible History of the Georgia-Clemson Rivalry,” Field Street Forum, August 26, 2024.

©David Hall. All Rights Reserved.

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Post authored by:

• David Hall

  

  Reverend David W. Hall is married to Ann, and they are parents of three grown children and grandparents of eight grandchildren. He has served as the Senior Pastor of Midway Presbyterian Church (PCA) since 2003. Previously, he served as Pastor of the Covenant Presbyterian Church in Oak Ridge, Tennessee (1984–2003) and as Associate Pastor at the First Presbyterian Church in Rome, Georgia (1980–1984). He was ordained to pastoral ministry in 1980. He was educated at Covenant Theological Seminary and is the editor and author of several volumes.

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