YamaVol
September 10th, 2009, 11:24 AM
Eric Berry and Monte Kiffin's relationship could take the former to the next level of stardom.
This story appears in the Sept. 21 issue of ESPN The Magazine.
A line of Day-Glo orange snakes a quarter mile along the Tennessee River, curving around the sprawling Volunteers football complex on a sunny April morning. Thousands of fans have arrived five months before the opening game, with cameras, Tennessee jerseys and signs. It's the Orange and White Game, and as they say here, it's Football Time in Tennessee.
Problem is, times haven't been so good lately. A nightmarish 5-7 season led to the turbulent end of Phillip Fulmer's 17-year head-coaching tenure and the more turbulent beginning of the Lane Kiffin era. Vols fans crave stability right now, which is why they've put their faith in safety Eric Berry, who's as popular as the chorus to "Rocky Top."
In his two years on campus, Berry has crafted the best start to a career of any defensive back in college football history. Really. The 5'11", 203-pound junior has used his fluid stride and uncanny balance to pick off 12 passes and return them for an astounding 487 yards. That's just 14 yards shy of Florida State cornerback Terrell Buckley's NCAA record 501 yards, set from 1989 to 1991. Even more impressive? He's been flagged only once in two years, despite his hitting with the aggression of a linebacker -- as seen here.
The fans' signs at the spring game prove that Berry is creating Peyton Manning levels of hysteria. "Tebow wears Eric Berry pajamas." "Berry for Heisman." "Eric B for President." "I'm friends with Eric Berry, that makes me cool!!" But there's no bigger Berry fan right now than Monte Kiffin, Lane's father and Tennessee's new defensive coordinator.
Kiffin, a legendary NFL tactician, has spent four decades developing an aggressive scheme that values speed over size and creating turnovers more than playing for field position. His defensive philosophy took full form at the last of his seven NFL stops, a 12-year hitch with Tampa Bay, where he perfected the Bucs' Tampa 2. The two-deep zone D made life miserable for opposing passers, who saw multiple defensive looks from a unit that rarely had to switch from its 4-3 personnel. But the scheme doesn't work without a playmaking safety. The Bucs had perennial Pro Bowler John Lynch; the Vols have Eric Berry.
Kiffin didn't have a scouting report on Berry before he relocated from Tampa. He can't remember Bucs scouts even mentioning Berry's name. Instead he vaguely recalls someone's saying, "Tennessee has this young safety who will be outstanding and --" Nine months later, Kiffin knows exactly who Berry is. The 69-year-old coach isn't the type to dabble in hyperbole -- he knows better than to get caught up in a kid's reputation -- but he will say this: "If I had the first pick in next year's draft, I'd pick Eric."
Berry, meanwhile, thought he already knew plenty about Kiffin. He knew that Kiffin had taught Pete Carroll, Lovie Smith and Mike Tomlin. And he knew that Monte's son Lane wasn't exactly an introvert. "When I found out Monte Kiffin was coming, the only thing I worried about was that he'd have a big ego or cuss a lot," says Berry. "But he's the total opposite. He smiles all the time. He bounces around. I call him the Google of Defense because he knows so much about football."
Tennessee had been running a version of the Cover 2, similar to Kiffin's Tampa 2, in which the middle linebacker drops deep into coverage. But the terminology is all new, as are Berry's responsibilities -- from the depth of his drops and the size of his zone to the keys to his reads and how he relays calls to his backfield 'mates. But through this learning process, the coaching legend and his 20-year-old disciple have clearly forged a connection. Kiffin often communicates with Berry through just a nod of his chin or a shift of his eyes. It's a bond that makes sense when the coach -- whose other son, Chris, is on the staff at Nebraska -- talks about how, like his own, Berry's family lineage is filled with football. Berry's father, James, was a running back and 1981 team captain at Tennessee, and his uncle Tank Berry is the best D-lineman in Northwestern (La.) State history. Then there are Berry's younger twin brothers, Evan and Elliot, who, as eighth graders, are already hearing from recruiters. (Yes, both like Tennessee.)
Berry plays like a combination of his two idols: big hitter Sean Taylor and ballhawk Ed Reed. He also idolizes big talkers Manny Ramirez and Chad Ochocinco, in part because they behave the way he feels on the field -- indomitable and invincible. As for his outspoken head coach, who has created headlines by calling out rivals across the South? "It shows he believes in us," Berry says.
Truth is, Berry is about as cocky as a third-team long-snapper. During spring drills, Kiffin called for one of Berry's teammates to blitz. But when the offense came out in an empty backfield formation, Berry asked to audible because someone would be left uncovered. Kiffin yelled out, "No, no, no." One long gain later, Coach Google realized that his star player had been correct. Berry isn't boastful when asked about it; he just offers a sheepish grin. Kiffin, meanwhile, tells the story with great pride. "He's the complete package," says Kiffin. "He can run. He can hit. He's very smart. And his teammates hang on every word he says. They just feed off him."
Fortunately for the Kiffins, Berry embraced the new regime despite having every reason to hold a grudge. Berry had known some coaches on Fulmer's staff for most of his life. Every day that he heard Fulmer was on the block meant family friend and Vols defensive coordinator John Chavis (now serving the same role for the LSU Tigers) would be gone too. When the ax fell, in mid-November, Berry felt blindsided. Rather than hearing from the suits in the athletic department, he and his teammates read the news on ESPN's Bottom Line. "I couldn't believe it," he says. "I thought they'd go about it differently, that they'd tell us. I thought we had a connection."
Those coaches were the main reasons Berry came to UT from Fairburn, Ga., and their dismissal forced some emotions to the surface: distrust, anger, even guilt. "He felt that if only he'd made a few more plays, they wouldn't be in that situation," says Johnny White, Berry's defensive coordinator at Creekside High.
Berry's ruthless play has always betrayed his softhearted ways. One of his high school buddies, Rokevious Watkins, a 6'4", 340-pound tackle at South Carolina, cringes when he thinks where he'd be without Berry. Watkins and his dad bounced from place to place throughout high school. "We were living in the streets," Watkins says. "I was close to going the wrong way -- to jail, killing somebody, things associated with street life. Eric snatched me up and told me there was a better way."
Watkins' father died of lung cancer six days after the teammates graduated from Creekside. The lineman had fallen a quarter of a credit shy of eligibility for big-time college ball. Berry kept motivating him to not fall back into his old ways.
"I can't thank him enough," says Watkins, who transferred from Georgia Military College. "We talk every day. He keeps me going."
Just as Berry does for all those dedicated -- if anxious -- fans on Rocky Top. And if the wise, old coach is right about his latest protégé, the masses in Day-Glo orange should get a new sign ready for Knoxville this fall.
It's Eric Berry Time in Tennessee.
Bruce Feldman is a senior writer for ESPN The Magazine specializing in college football coverage. His Insider blog can be found here and the last Magazine feature he wrote, on the rise of Baylor football, can be found here.
This story appears in the Sept. 21 issue of ESPN The Magazine.
A line of Day-Glo orange snakes a quarter mile along the Tennessee River, curving around the sprawling Volunteers football complex on a sunny April morning. Thousands of fans have arrived five months before the opening game, with cameras, Tennessee jerseys and signs. It's the Orange and White Game, and as they say here, it's Football Time in Tennessee.
Problem is, times haven't been so good lately. A nightmarish 5-7 season led to the turbulent end of Phillip Fulmer's 17-year head-coaching tenure and the more turbulent beginning of the Lane Kiffin era. Vols fans crave stability right now, which is why they've put their faith in safety Eric Berry, who's as popular as the chorus to "Rocky Top."
In his two years on campus, Berry has crafted the best start to a career of any defensive back in college football history. Really. The 5'11", 203-pound junior has used his fluid stride and uncanny balance to pick off 12 passes and return them for an astounding 487 yards. That's just 14 yards shy of Florida State cornerback Terrell Buckley's NCAA record 501 yards, set from 1989 to 1991. Even more impressive? He's been flagged only once in two years, despite his hitting with the aggression of a linebacker -- as seen here.
The fans' signs at the spring game prove that Berry is creating Peyton Manning levels of hysteria. "Tebow wears Eric Berry pajamas." "Berry for Heisman." "Eric B for President." "I'm friends with Eric Berry, that makes me cool!!" But there's no bigger Berry fan right now than Monte Kiffin, Lane's father and Tennessee's new defensive coordinator.
Kiffin, a legendary NFL tactician, has spent four decades developing an aggressive scheme that values speed over size and creating turnovers more than playing for field position. His defensive philosophy took full form at the last of his seven NFL stops, a 12-year hitch with Tampa Bay, where he perfected the Bucs' Tampa 2. The two-deep zone D made life miserable for opposing passers, who saw multiple defensive looks from a unit that rarely had to switch from its 4-3 personnel. But the scheme doesn't work without a playmaking safety. The Bucs had perennial Pro Bowler John Lynch; the Vols have Eric Berry.
Kiffin didn't have a scouting report on Berry before he relocated from Tampa. He can't remember Bucs scouts even mentioning Berry's name. Instead he vaguely recalls someone's saying, "Tennessee has this young safety who will be outstanding and --" Nine months later, Kiffin knows exactly who Berry is. The 69-year-old coach isn't the type to dabble in hyperbole -- he knows better than to get caught up in a kid's reputation -- but he will say this: "If I had the first pick in next year's draft, I'd pick Eric."
Berry, meanwhile, thought he already knew plenty about Kiffin. He knew that Kiffin had taught Pete Carroll, Lovie Smith and Mike Tomlin. And he knew that Monte's son Lane wasn't exactly an introvert. "When I found out Monte Kiffin was coming, the only thing I worried about was that he'd have a big ego or cuss a lot," says Berry. "But he's the total opposite. He smiles all the time. He bounces around. I call him the Google of Defense because he knows so much about football."
Tennessee had been running a version of the Cover 2, similar to Kiffin's Tampa 2, in which the middle linebacker drops deep into coverage. But the terminology is all new, as are Berry's responsibilities -- from the depth of his drops and the size of his zone to the keys to his reads and how he relays calls to his backfield 'mates. But through this learning process, the coaching legend and his 20-year-old disciple have clearly forged a connection. Kiffin often communicates with Berry through just a nod of his chin or a shift of his eyes. It's a bond that makes sense when the coach -- whose other son, Chris, is on the staff at Nebraska -- talks about how, like his own, Berry's family lineage is filled with football. Berry's father, James, was a running back and 1981 team captain at Tennessee, and his uncle Tank Berry is the best D-lineman in Northwestern (La.) State history. Then there are Berry's younger twin brothers, Evan and Elliot, who, as eighth graders, are already hearing from recruiters. (Yes, both like Tennessee.)
Berry plays like a combination of his two idols: big hitter Sean Taylor and ballhawk Ed Reed. He also idolizes big talkers Manny Ramirez and Chad Ochocinco, in part because they behave the way he feels on the field -- indomitable and invincible. As for his outspoken head coach, who has created headlines by calling out rivals across the South? "It shows he believes in us," Berry says.
Truth is, Berry is about as cocky as a third-team long-snapper. During spring drills, Kiffin called for one of Berry's teammates to blitz. But when the offense came out in an empty backfield formation, Berry asked to audible because someone would be left uncovered. Kiffin yelled out, "No, no, no." One long gain later, Coach Google realized that his star player had been correct. Berry isn't boastful when asked about it; he just offers a sheepish grin. Kiffin, meanwhile, tells the story with great pride. "He's the complete package," says Kiffin. "He can run. He can hit. He's very smart. And his teammates hang on every word he says. They just feed off him."
Fortunately for the Kiffins, Berry embraced the new regime despite having every reason to hold a grudge. Berry had known some coaches on Fulmer's staff for most of his life. Every day that he heard Fulmer was on the block meant family friend and Vols defensive coordinator John Chavis (now serving the same role for the LSU Tigers) would be gone too. When the ax fell, in mid-November, Berry felt blindsided. Rather than hearing from the suits in the athletic department, he and his teammates read the news on ESPN's Bottom Line. "I couldn't believe it," he says. "I thought they'd go about it differently, that they'd tell us. I thought we had a connection."
Those coaches were the main reasons Berry came to UT from Fairburn, Ga., and their dismissal forced some emotions to the surface: distrust, anger, even guilt. "He felt that if only he'd made a few more plays, they wouldn't be in that situation," says Johnny White, Berry's defensive coordinator at Creekside High.
Berry's ruthless play has always betrayed his softhearted ways. One of his high school buddies, Rokevious Watkins, a 6'4", 340-pound tackle at South Carolina, cringes when he thinks where he'd be without Berry. Watkins and his dad bounced from place to place throughout high school. "We were living in the streets," Watkins says. "I was close to going the wrong way -- to jail, killing somebody, things associated with street life. Eric snatched me up and told me there was a better way."
Watkins' father died of lung cancer six days after the teammates graduated from Creekside. The lineman had fallen a quarter of a credit shy of eligibility for big-time college ball. Berry kept motivating him to not fall back into his old ways.
"I can't thank him enough," says Watkins, who transferred from Georgia Military College. "We talk every day. He keeps me going."
Just as Berry does for all those dedicated -- if anxious -- fans on Rocky Top. And if the wise, old coach is right about his latest protégé, the masses in Day-Glo orange should get a new sign ready for Knoxville this fall.
It's Eric Berry Time in Tennessee.
Bruce Feldman is a senior writer for ESPN The Magazine specializing in college football coverage. His Insider blog can be found here and the last Magazine feature he wrote, on the rise of Baylor football, can be found here.