Once upon a time there was a 6-foot-4, 287-pound football player yelling at me and ready to hurt me.
I recently posted about a book called Pastors and Their Critics by Joel Beeke and Nick Thompson, and I basically admitted that it was a tough book to read/skim. I’m a people-pleaser at heart, and I don’t like it when people are mad at me (though most critics are not mad at me, per se). I’m growing in that area through books like Beeke’s and good ole sanctification, but I once had a baptism by fire in all of this, and it’s a story worth telling.
Why was a football player mad at me (and telling someone else he was going to kill me)? Once upon a time, I was the Sports Editor for The Crimson White, the independent student newspaper for the University of Alabama. Here’s an excerpt (with several footnotes to provide some more detail 20+ years later) from my farewell column in May 2003, about one of my first days as Sports Editor:
So a lot of people ask me, “What’s your job like?” Well, quite simply, it can be the best job ever with thousands of free perks. But it can also be the worst job ever with untold responsibilities that you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy. Let’s examine the latter first, in classic diary format[1]:
Aug. 21, 2002, approx.. 6p.m. – It’s the first day of school, and 6-foot-4, 287-pound Jarret Johnson looks like he wants to kick my butt. I know this because minutes ago one of the media relations guys told me with a chuckle, “Yeah, he wants to kick your butt.”[2]
It’s got something to do with a story I wrote on him, which I thought was pretty complimentary. Due to a massive misunderstanding, he thinks I’ve tried to paint a picture of him as a “publicity hound.”[3] But right now, all that’s a little sketchy.
All I know is there’s a large guy about six inches from my face who’s quite angry. And did I mention that the entire media corps (along with a few dozen players and coaches) has a front-row seat after football practice?
“Don’t you EVER single me out in front of my teammates like that again!” the large scary man tells me.
I reply, “I’m sorry, Jarret. I wasn’t trying to make anybody look bad.” (And in this case, that’s actually the truth.)
Still angry, he shoots back, “Oh, you know EXACTLY what you did!”
The rest of the conversation is a slight blur for two reasons: 1. I’m still a little shocked that he’s upset, considering there’s a quote in this controversial story from then-coach Dennis Franchione calling Johnson the heart and soul of the defense. AND 2. There’s a 287-pound defensive tackle yelling at me, and, according to that same media relations guy, he picked up a copy of the paper earlier today, pointed at it and asked, “Who is this guy (who wrote the story)? Because I’m gonna kill him.”[4]
I was actually commended for my cool demeanor during this episode by one colleague[5], but the truth is, I was thinking one thing the whole time: “Man, I sure hope he doesn’t hit me.”
So, back to the conversation. After we established that I write for the student newspaper (which, in the mind of most football players, means that you’re only supposed to say good things about them because they’re your fellow students), he screamed one simple question at me.
“Are you a TIIIIIDE fan?!” he asked (er, screamed) from a distance of less than a foot.[6]
I paused. The answer to this question is obvious. Despite my status as an Alabama student, I’m also a journalist, which means I’m supposed to be objective and impartial. And as a sports journalist, that means you’re a fan of nobody. But since Jarret’s anger was inhibiting his listening skills at this time, I think I remained silent.
Seizing the opportunity, he repeated his question. “I SAAAID, are you a TIDE fan?!”
Finally, I mustered a reply. “Jarret, I’m a journalist.” And I left it at that. Before we could debate the finer points of journalistic objectivity, fellow defensive lineman Kindal Moorehead (I think, my memory could be cloudy) grabbed Johnson by the arm and said calmly, “Let’s go, Jarret.”
Present day [May 2003] – I didn’t send a thank-you note to Moorehead (or whoever it was that saved me from a potential beating), but I did carry on with my job for the remainder of the season. Most weeks, that meant working around Johnson’s silent boycott of The CW. He either wouldn’t talk to us at all, or he’d give really unquotable cliched answers if he couldn’t avoid us. I think he softened up toward the end of the season, though. I’m still not sure if he hates us (and by “us,” I mean “me”).
But since he’s probably getting drafted in two days, I guess he has bigger fish to fry.[7]
And me? I laugh every time I get to tell that story now, especially when I get to the parts that I can’t print here. Despite one really bad day (and a lot of late nights where I threatened to quit; I hate page design), my year as CW Sports Editor has quite simply rocked my face off.
Post-script, 2025 – Believe it or not, there’s even more to that farewell column, but it’s full of inside jokes from that year, so I’ll cut it off there. I won’t pretend that I’m much better at living with people being angry with me, but I can at least say I’ve been there before. And in case you’re wondering, no, I do not believe I’ve ever had a situation that was as physically intimidating as that one since that time.
For a few years after that, it actually was a little hard to root for my alma mater. But I got over that in time to enjoy the Nick Saban era, as you might have heard or guessed. Until next time, Roll Tide!
-Pastor Matt, 6-6-25
[1] I wrote a series of Road Trip Diaries in 2002-03 that were full of random asides en route to cover different sporting events. The most fun versions featured my friends Dan, Brandon, and Jeb, as well as a guest appearance by my older brother Nate. The title of this farewell column was, “What a long, strange road trip it’s been,” and, no, I’m not a Grateful Dead fan.
[2] In case you wondered, this was an incredibly unprofessional and horrible media relations strategy.
[3] Sources told me that some of his teammates mocked him and told him he sounded like “a ______ crybaby,” which was not my intention, but I can understand why he got mad.
[4] I’m going to again suggest that the media relations guy who was twice our age should’ve tried to calm down the angry football player.
[5] Thank you, Evan. I hope the Tigers beat is treating you well.
[6] Alabama’s mascot is the Crimson Tide. If you’re curious why, you can google it.
[7] Jarret logged $35 million in career earnings over 12 years with the Ravens (9 years) and the Chargers (3 years) according to overthecap.com, so I’d say he did ok. Also, I’m wearing a Steelers hat as I write this, and I was raised to hate the Ravens/Browns, Cowboys, and Raiders.