LSU Football: I Hope Benji Feels Better Today

I met Benji Thibodeaux during the Curly Hallman Era (1991-1994). He was working in the banking profession in Georgia and seemed bitter at the time.

I imagine that the face-mask call on him in 1979 during the heartbreak loss to Southern Cal was a bitter memory, but not the reason for his attitude that night I met him.  The poor seasons that LSU suffered through during Hallman's era were probably not the cause either.

I am fortunate to attend five to six home games a year at Tiger Stadium and usually attend the bowl game.

I suffered through the Hallman fiasco by attending every home game during this four year horror and staying till the last second ticked off the clock to prove that I was a very loyal fan.  As I get older, I attend fewer games hoping to go to at least four or five this year.

It was during one of these Hallman games that I attended the game alone on a Saturday Night.  I had tickets on the 40-yard line on the West Side midway up.  They were good seats and I usually had no problem selling them for $20 or $30, when a man approached me asking how much for the ticket?  

He seemed nice enough, and I was pretty picky about who would sit next to me. I told him $25 and quickly added the location of the tickets.

He said he was not interested, that he was only curious.  It caught my attention when he said he would never pay for a ticket to an LSU game.  I asked him why.  He said, "I played here."   I asked his name.  He said, "Benji Thibodeaux."  I looked with surprise and asked, "Number 77? Defensive Tackle, 77-80?"  

For a brief moment he looked pleasantly surprised, with his eyes widening.  "You remember?",  He asked.  I told him that I was in law school during those years and rarely missed a game with him as one of my favorites.  

Then I brought up the dreaded game in 1979.  "I remember the USC game.  I was there. I didn't think it was a penalty."  I deadpanned.  His expression changed.  He shrugged and mumbled something to the effect that it did not matter.

It did.  It still does.  That game sits with me as the most frustrating and heartbreaking loss in my memory.  USC came into Tiger Stadium with one of the most talented teams in college football history. They were ranked No. 1 and heavily favored.  

LSU could not score a touchdown but lead with a few minutes to go by a score of 12-10.  Charles While and Paul MacDonald were stunned.  They were down late in the fourth quarter and going for a fourth down conversion to keep their hopes alive on the thirty something yard line on their side of the 50.

McDonald dropped back to pass after an offensive lineman seemed to have a quick start and should have been called for an illegal procedure even if they made the first down.

I was sitting in the North end zone to the right of the goal post, looking at the field.  It was part of the student section, but I did not have the energy to get there early enough to fight for better seats.  

For this play there was no better view.  Benji Thibodeaux beat his blocker and he roared to the backfield.  The crowd cheered like never before as Paul McDonald was sacked and the ball would be turned over on downs.

But wait.  Flags were thrown.  Surely, the referees caught the illegal procedure. The call was made.  Personal foul, face mask.  There was no replay in those days and no number of the player was called in 1979.  The crowd booed viciously.  

We were robbed.  This was so unfair.  Not only would LSU not get the ball, USC would get an automatic first down and 15 yards.

Each play after that, it was obvious LSU had no more energy.  USC then drove methodically down the field and scored on a Charles White touchdown as Marcus Allen blocked for him as fullback.  USC won with the final score 17-12.  No one wanted moral victories.  We wanted the win.  

If there ever was a moral victory, this was one.  Brad Budde, the all American O-Lineman for USC stated on national television the next day, that "LSU Stadium made playing at Notre Dame seem like Romper Room."

I guess the positive was the fact that LSU showed it could play with anyone.  It  was that during my seven years at LSU, undergrad and law school, the LSU football team was at a low point.  This was Charlie MacClendon's last season, as he was being ushered out by the Athletic Department as a coach whose better days had passed.  This was debatable, but compared to today's climate with coaches, he lasted much longer than he would have today.  

Cholly Mac was a good coach, respected by his peers and adored by his players.  This last year, he did not tank it.  His team fought hard in every game, losing heartbreakers to the two national champions, USC and Alabama, by the previously mentioned score and 3-0 to the latter.

To hear the accolades given to the fans at the game and to hear of the aura associated with Tiger Stadium, made the gloom of losing a little less glum.   Cholly Mac would have none of it.  He was a winner and was very bitter about the loss.

He even reminded former players about it on his death bed suffering from cancer, telling them it at least ought to have been offsetting penalties.

I played one hole with Cholly Mac in a golf tournament whose sponsors put up money for his scholarship fund that is given to children of former players.  Well, it was really only a putt.  He would ride from hole to hole putting for various golfers to try to meet all of those donating to his cause that he created with a passion.  My time at LSU was not very kind to Coach Mac.  I am sure he heard the chants of "Help Mac Pac" as fans, including me, chanted after the games we lost.

In retrospect, I have gained wisdom and realize that a coach who wins 75-80 percent of his games is pretty darn good.  We live in such a microwave society.  We expect coaches to win within two to three years and not stop winning for even a short time.

So that night Benji's expression was hard to read.  He seemed disgruntled, but I couldn't figure out why.  Was it the penalty in the ultimate game against USC?  Was it the poor choice to pick Hallman and watch Hallman decimate the team with such poor assistant coaches that players hated them?

Was it the player's dilemma that you really can not go home again.  In the movie "Everybody's All American", the football hero is invited back to Tiger Stadium and when he is introduced he soaks in the loud cheers reliving the past, until he realizes the crescendo of cheers building up was the result of the current team running on the field.

This brings up the point of the story.  It is the relationship between college football fans and college players.   We fawn all over these 18-23 year old students who rarely have wisdom and they are made into heroes.

 They leave school with the rare player able to continue their career in football.  Even they who are such fortunates, are forgotten soon after they retire from pro football.

So what of the student athlete after they graduate to no more football.  They may have huge success in whatever field they are in, but it is doubtful that 90,000 people are screaming for their successes.

We may meet them and tell them we remember them, but I believe that this only makes them pensive, even more somber, despite us telling them how great they are because of who they were at LSU or whatever school at which they performed.

As they grow older, the desire to please others with physical prowess, grows less desirable and more difficult.  The notoriety is not there and there is a sadness that can be equated with the retired public official no longer in the limelight being sought for favor.

So Benji, I kept up with you and hear that you are really doing well in the banking business.  I hope the economic meltdown did you no harm, nor your customers.

 I also hope that the successful seasons LSU has had over the last eight years, with two national championships and all the winning seasons, some even less than Cholly Mac's last years, have brought you some excitement about your heritage.

 I remember you well and often wanted to write you to tell you I am thinking of you and all the players who brought me, and thousands of others, joy and even the heartbreak of college football.  Thank you for the memories, even the glancing of your hand over that face-mask of that dreaded Trojan football player.

Benji, I really hope you feel better today.