Football Guys
January 08, 2020

This treasure trove of Ed Orgeron stories is what the internet was invented for

College Football Playoff Semifinal at the Chick-fil-A Peach Bowl - LSU v Oklahoma

Carmen Mandato

Ed Orgeron is a gift. He's baby Jesus crossed with AirPods. He's the miracle of electricity mixed with a new Lexus. He's everything football fans could ever ask for. It's taken college football a while to realize this, with Orgeron climbing coaching trees since the early 90s. But now that they've discovered their messiah, there's no turning back. From schilling Hummers to waging a holy war on closed captioning, everything Coach O does turns to gold, and come this time next week, the LSU ball coach may well have gone platinum. No, we're not talking about the looming prospect of a first National Championship. We're talking about what will happen when the internet gets their hands on this vault of incredible Coach O stories published by ESPN's David Hale on Wednesday morning. Beating Clemson makes you a legend. This stuff? This stuff makes you a god.

Here are some of our favorite highlights from the piece, which you should most definitely spend your lunch break with:

Lloyd Cushenberry, LSU offensive lineman, on Coach O's pre-game pep-rallies:

"Coach O comes in to try to get us fired up. He's carrying two Red Bulls. He rips his shirt off and shotguns both Red Bulls. Everybody was fired up after that."

Tommy Tuberville on vacationing with Coach O as young, eligible bachelors . . .

"We'd be at dinner in some restaurant in Key West, and he'd get down in a three-point stance to explain some technique. In hotel rooms in Costa Rica, he's going all-out."

. . . and Coach O's defensive line coaching methods:

Orgeron would often line up against his own D-linemen -- Russell Maryland, Warren Sapp, The Rock — and run drills without any pads or protection. He'd come away bruised and bloodied.

Kyle Fetterly, Syracuse equipment manager, on Coach O's fitness philosophy:

Orgeron was always the first guy in, full of energy, and he'd work out on the field just before practice -- sit-ups, push-ups, chin-ups, squat thrusts. One day, one of [Fetterly's] assistants stopped him.

"Coach, you're in good shape. Why do you do all this?" he asked.

"Son," he said, "the day I can't whoop a man's ass is the day I don't get out of bed."

Austin Deculus, LSU offensive lineman, on Coach O's appetite:

Deculus and his dad shot a buffalo and had the meat shipped to them in Louisiana. They had enough for nearly a year's worth of food -- steak cuts, sausage, pretty much anything. But for Orgeron's visit, Deculus whipped up some bison chili.

"Coach O had five bowls," he said.

They go on and on like that—including anecdotes about how Tuberville and Orgeron used to pack their lips with coffee grounds to stay caffeinated during Miami practices and the time Orgeron interrupted a LSU homework sesh for a 20-pound crawfish boil—for miles. So strap in, buckle up, and set the controls for the heart of the bayou. The Coach O joyride has only just begun and we can't wait to see what sort of crazy sh*t he does next.