2011 Florida Gators Football: An Early Example of Will Muschamp's Intensity

When college football fans talk of the fiery personality of new Florida coach Will Muschamp, they can point to numerous, very public examples.

Who can forget Muschamp, as the defensive coordinator for Texas, accidentally cutting his face during a game against Florida Atlantic, only to let the blood roll down his cheek and go un-wiped as he coached up his unit?

There also are Youtube videos with Muschamp using, uhhh, colorful language to make an angry point to a few Auburn players when he was a Tigers assistant.

No doubt, as a head coach, Muschamp will have to tone down some of his outer ferocity, and he's a bright man, so I have no doubt he will figure out a way to temper those emotions while still making sure his feelings still get across to the Gators.

But it may not be all that easy. After all, Muschamp always has been the most fired-up guy in the room.

The best example I can give came more than 25 years ago (also in Gainesville, Fla.) when he was wrapping up spring football as a seventh-grader who had starred on Oak Hall School's varsity (yes, the varsity, and yes, starred) the previous fall.

The Eagles were coached by former UF safety John Clifford, still a close friend of Muschamp.

Clifford liked to reward his players for the sacrifices they made in the heat- and humidity-filled spring with a final-day game called "Gatorball."

Gatorball was a combination of football, soccer and basketball, played in full pads on the football field. There were soccer goals at each end of the field where players could score.

The contests were played with a round ball, so that it could be dribbled like in soccer and basketball, but tackling wasn't just allowed, it was encouraged.

The game was self-policed and there probably were rules. Probably. But you'd look like a wimp if you called someone for a violation. And being a whistle-blowing wimp made you an even bigger target.

This was a game the older players loved because it allowed them free shots on one another. Usually, the team's younger members would do all they could to avoid what felt to them like Polamalu-esque brutality, making like a terrified punter and speedily kicking the ball away once it got to them.

But Muschamp was a different breed.

He talked all spring about the glorious conclusion that was Gatorball, and once game day came, he was as riled up as he was on a Friday night in October.

And no one was safe from possibly receiving their last Will and Testament that afternoon.

Actually, let me put an asterisk there. He didn't really go after kids his own age, because what would be the fun in that? Most of those guys were 145 pounds in full pads.

(Thanks for taking it easy on me, bud.)

No, Muschamp used his then (approximately) 6'0", 185-pound frame to violently launch himself at juniors and seniors.

Sure, he wanted to win those games, but he wasn't all about putting the ball in the net. No, he was about the big hit. And as the game went along, it became evident that the 13-year-old Will was just as scary as a 250-pound 18-year-old, maybe more.

He delivered more pancakes than IHOP, and if someone was fortunate enough to deliver a lick to Muschamp...well, he loved that, too. Anything that came with a bruise came with a story.

So, the next time you see Muschamp put on that ultra-intense face—one that makes 6'7", 290-pound defensive ends cringe—remember, the coach can't help it.

It's in his blood.