Zoom In
Look at that photo. Well, it's a screengrab from a frame from a video I took, so look at that screengrab. It's a beautiful stadium when it's empty, right? So much history there.
Except it's not empty. Zoom in.
Here, I'll do it for you. I'll zoom in on the screengrab (so please excuse the quality). All the way on the other end, down in the southwest corner of the horseshoe, right over by where the equipment fire happened last October, you'll see this:
That's redshirt sophomore TJ Griffin. By himself. Nearly 30 minutes after practice. Working on the blocking sleds.
Let me back up.
Practice this morning was open to the media. Not just the first 30 minutes, all of it. If you've read my writing for a while, you'll know how happy that makes me. The days of open training camps and at least 15 open practices are behind us, so when we get one or two that are fully open to media, I rejoice.
Finding out that a practice will be fully open, for me, is like my niece finding out that Taylor Swift will be performing at her middle school assembly. I could barely sleep last night. I currently have a headache because I 100% forgot to drink my morning coffee and my lunchtime Diet Mountain Dew and my body is saying "uh, the caffeine you give us every single day, please?" An open practice at 10:30 am means my brain will be frazzled all morning (to the point where I forget to make coffee).
I know that I'm weird. I've said before that given a choice between Illini football practice and an Illini football game, I'd choose practice. Maybe that's because it's just all potential and there's no chance of a loss that day, but practice would be my choice. It allows me to zoom in on Illini football the way I want to zoom in. And that's not always the football side. Meaning, I don't just want to be there to determine if Luke Altmyer is good a throwing and Zakhari Franklin is good at catching. (They are, by the way.) I just want to observe.
Take Matt Bailey. Bret Bielema said before the practice that Bailey would be in a green jersey for this practice. Green means you're not in there on heavy contact drills but you're still participating in practice. Bailey is a player they trust at safety and so there's no reason to push things in camp with Matt coming off shoulder surgery in the offseason.
And getting to observe Matt Bailey at practice when he could not participate was a delight. You could tell that every misread by the player in his position during 11 on 11 drills bothered him to his core. Other players are on the defensive sideline milling around getting drinks and talking to teammates - Bailey is locked in on ever play, screaming out the pre-snap motion that's about to happen on the offense because he's already read the play.
Those are the things I love to observe. A player like Matt Bailey is invaulable to a football team because he cares so very much about the outcome of the 39th play of the 16th practice of the preseason. The salesman at your company who cares about the product so much that her customers love her and will listen to her because it's obvious she's incredibly passionate about all of this? That's Matt Bailey. And you can't teach it.
So that's what today was for me. That and a dozen other things I got to observe (those notes will be up on Slack at some point tonight or tomorrow). But that's not why I'm writing this article. Let's zoom back in on TJ Griffin.
Griffin was moved from safety to linebacker last week. He hadn't cracked the rotation at safety, and sometimes safeties will blossom when they move forward to linebacker, so that's the choice he made with the staff. Which means that the third-year player out of Stagg HS will need to learn an entirely new position.
He also has to learn new techniques. There's a lot more shedding blocks at linebacker. Which means there needs to be a lot more blocking sled work. Today, for TJ Griffin, that was going to happen after practice on his own.
When practice ended, interviews were scheduled under the north end zone stands. I'm all about one-on-one conversations, but I'm not much for call-and-response media scrums, so I stood outside the door to the NEZ lounge just observing the field. The coaches had all gone back to the Smith Center, but a couple players over to my left were working on hand position for catches to their left with the Jugs machine. A backup QB and a couple receivers were running a few routes in the end zone over to my right. And TJ Griffin was about as far away from me as possible (I'm standing by the band stairs near the Grange rock; he's on the blocking sleds in the southwest corner of the horseshoe), working on the blocking sleds.
So I decided to take a video of the scene with my phone:
As you can see, there are other things going on. It's not like he's the only player on the field. I, too, enjoy a good "one player getting up free throws an hour after the game in an empty arena" tweet, but that wasn't specifically why I took this first video. There were a lot of players still on the field. I just wanted to document what I was seeing.
Some assistant coaches and a few players were just inside the door to my right being interviewed, but I didn't want to leave the field. There's something so peaceful about moments like that. Actually, peaceful isn't the right word. There's something... holy about it? It's sacred, at least to me.
I kept watching, and more people were leaving the field, and TJ Griffin was still at work. Grinding, as my sons would say. The jersey was off, the shoulderpads were off, but he was still at it.
I kinda miss the sound of those carts, you know? I used to stand off to the side and interview one or two players after every practice. And those interviews were always always always interrupted by the sound of carts. All of the equipment you see along the sides – the blocking dummies, the temporary practice scoreboards, etc. – those all have to be stored somewhere (or moved to the grass practice fields if that's where the next practice will be). There are two sounds that represent fall camp to me: ice being dumped out of water coolers to melt in the hot sun... and carts moving equipment around.
And blocking sleds. Players hitting the blocking sleds over and over well after practice. Swanson, Rooks, and Bartolotta leave the field and now it's just the carts and TJ Griffin. He's switched drills. Now it's "get on the blocking sled, shed the block, wrap up the ballcarrier." Everything a safety-turned-linebacker needs to learn. Shed blocks shed blocks shed blocks:
Soon after, the carts were done clearing the field. So there are only two noises in Memorial Stadium. The blocking sled that TJ Griffin is punishing and a leaf blower. Construction activities continue in the east balcony – they were still working on re-installing the benches in Section 201 after an entire offseason spent patching and painting the concrete in the balcony – and one guy was running a leaf blower over the sections where construction was 100% complete.
So the stadium sounded like this:
I decided that if no one was going to kick me out, I was going to stay as long as TJ Griffin was going to stay. I just wanted to see how long he was going to put in the extra work.
And I took one more video as I saw him begin to gather his helmet, jersey, and shoulder pads. Looking at the timestamps, this video is 24 minutes after the first video above. Leaf blower is still going, and TJ Griffin has reached the end of his sled work.
As he walked off the field, I was still in just the best possible mood. You might think you understand how much I enjoy an entire Illini football practice, but you really don't. I could write about it 25 more times and you still wouldn't fully understand the joy it brings me. I'm standing there, leaning up against the railing of the band stairs, floating on air.
But TJ wasn't done.
He walked the entire west sideline and then turned to walk behind the north end zone. I figured we might have some type of interaction seeing as we were the only two people left in Memorial Stadium besides the two workers installing benches and the leaf blower guy (well, plus the reporters and interviewees coming in and out of the door next to me). So just in case there would be some kind of interaction, I pressed record on my phone. I know that's sneaky – me knowing the interaction will be recorded and him not knowing – but I just wanted to document my last moment in the stadium after an incredibly fun practice.
I didn't know what to say, however. I always go full Chris Farley in moments like this – "remember when you hit that blocking sled? that was awesome" – but I can't do that here. Do I say "good work" or something?
It didn't matter. TJ spoke first. He doesn't know me, but he saw me. Sound on:
TJ Griffin is starting year three of trying to find a spot on the field with the Fighting Illini. It's such a tall task to just get a scholarship offer (especially for a guy whose high school team was 0-9 his senior year), but that's when the real work begins. And he's now starting year three of that work, now needing to learn a new position. Task #1: sled work to learn shedding blocks.
He's putting in 14-16 hour days right now. And class starts in just over a week so his schedule will get even more hectic. He's chasing his dream, and watching him hit that sled you can tell that he's locked in, but he's not too locked in as to not notice me standing there. Zoom out and sure, college sports are changing and "are they even amateurs anymore?" dominates every conversation while we all discuss players getting paid and conference consolidation. Zoom in... and all I see is the hard work. Followed by kind words.
Do you know what's the absolute best thing you can ask someone when they're floating on air? "You having a good day?"
Yes. Yes I am, TJ. Thanks for asking.
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