The 5 Stages of Grief
An obituary in honor of Tennessee Football
Denial- in 2009, as the mattresses were being tossed from windows and burned in the streets, Vol fans had yet realized Tennessee Football’s time on this earth had expired. A Rockstar dressed in orange had seen its final sunrise. Generations inspired by its greatness would now spend their days playing the “classic old hits,” on the jukebox. When we mourn the loss of a loved one, in this case Tennessee football, we refuse to accept the reality of the heartbreak we feel inside. We blame others. We blamed Lane Kiffin. We could not understand why this had happened and refused to believe it was real. We fully anticipated waking up to see our hero in orange back on stage, playing a new album for us that would go on to win platinum records. Little did we know that the final song had been played. The sell-out crowds would soon be a distant memory. The band was never getting back together.
Anger- Dazed and confused the band manager panicked and hired the lead singer of a cover-band to replace the hole in fans’ hearts. Derek Dooley dressed in orange pants went into the studio to record the new album. Constant stories circled the tabloids about how he could not get along with anyone in the band. Denial would soon turn to anger. Last minute lapses in decision making started to add up. As the lead singer he was solely responsible for losses to UNC, LSU (13 players on the field), and Missouri. Without being wanted to come back for an encore, Derek Dooley decided to come back on stage and play one final hit. He went head to head against what is wildly considered to be Tennessee’s opening act Vanderbilt, and lost 41–18.
Bargaining- Vol fans began to call out to the universe for help to make the pain go away. It was received in the form of a brick falling from the sky in Butch Jones. We compromised with the universe. We made a deal, a promise that we will do whatever it takes to makes this heartache go away. We accepted that time and patience was our penance. So, we slowly started to stack brick by brick in the hopes that we would be rewarded for efforts. Soon brighter days came to us in the form of recruiting classes and wins over Georgia and Florida. We made our plea and it seemed as though it was finally time for us to live in sun once more. However, we failed to acknowledge that Tennessee football had died, and we refused to let it rest in peace.
Depression — Pain is temporary. Depression is prolonged. We saw the signs but chose to ignore them because it was easier to hold on to happy thoughts than to face the sorrow that stood at our doorstep. Love filled our hearts in the wins over Georgia and Florida. But love is blind. We were blinded in seeing how devastating the following losses to South Carolina and Vanderbilt. No championship would be won. No happiness would be found. Like Icarus, we flew too close to the sun. A catastrophic burnout was the only fitting end. Before returning to the ground, which was now a baron wasteland, we took a head coach, an athletic director, a University president, and our dignity down with us in flames. Once a timeless rock band was now being booed off stage. In a last-ditch effort to salvage the comfort of our youth we turned to Phillip Fulmer, our front-porch grandpa, to guide us back to the way things used to be. But grandpa was never who we thought he was. We were too young to remember how he stabbed his mentor in the back. And now, in our depression, we would not let ourselves believe the truth. The truth that grandpa was behind closed doors, being an agent of chaos. He was now directing the funeral he helped caused.
Acceptance- Acceptance does not mean that life gets better; it just means that our way of living life on life’s terms improve. A decade spent making the same amount of hit songs as Kentucky and Mississippi State has manifested itself into apathy. Season tickets are an ode to our loyalty and nothing more. Attending games are chances for our community to mourn together. A sigh of relief as the clock expires in another loss and your neighbor says to you, “no need to be sad, you are among friends here.” As your hard-earned money is used to finance misery, take solace that the young men who came here are now gone to better places. Our enjoyment is now limited to dusting our old records off and playing them for our friends when they come over on Saturdays. Playlists compiled of the most nostalgic memories that take our minds back to better days. As the sun continues to set on the beautiful life that was Tennessee Football, remember not to cry because it is over, but to smile because it happened.
So here’s to you, Old Tennessee.
