Is Neyland Stadium Still a College Football Hot Spot?

Over the years I've had the great privilege of attending college football games in more than 60 Division 1 stadiums. Wait -- is it still called Division 1? Isn't it now something like College Bowl Subdivision Elite Conferences That Think A Playoff Is Insane? I'm close, right? Where was I...

From Husky Stadium in Seattle to Ben Hill Griffin Stadium in Gainesville, I've watched games in driving rain showers, snowstorms and sweltering humidity. I've seen tortillas tossed on the field, cups of human excrement hurled at fans (you can't make that up) and USC's regal mascot Traveler slip and fall on the Coliseum track.

And so many great finishes. 1982, Penn State beating Nebraska 27-24 on a Todd Blackledge TD in Beaver Stadium with four seconds left to play. 1978, USC defeating Joe Montana in his final regular season game with Notre Dame in the Coliseum 27-25 on a field goal with two seconds remaining. And Tennessee beating Florida 20-17 in overtime at Neyland Stadium in 1998 when the Gators FG try to tie sailed wide left.

It's the latter that stands out for me when the subject is great environments in college football.

There was a time when Neyland Stadium was on the short list of feared road spots for visiting teams. It use to be the media and fans spoke about three places that stood out among all the rest: LSU's Death Valley, Clemson's Death Valley and the Madhouse on the River, Neyland Stadium in Knoxville.

Somewhere on the way to buying a new decibel meter, Neyland dropped off the radar. And the blame, if you want to call it that, can be shared by one man and one group: The Coach and The Fans.

Don't get me wrong, Neyland is still a marvelous place to watch a college football game. For my money, there is no better stop on the college football landscape. The game day environment is second to none. Notre Dame Stadium, Michigan Stadium, Ohio Stadium...you name it, I've been to all the big boys. Each is wonderful in its own way but the overall experience is no match for Neyland. And yet...

Unless the Vols opponent is Florida or Alabama, sitting in Neyland now gives you a virtual experience of being in Dodger Stadium. Ok, that might be excessive; Dodger Stadium crowds are still your leader in the clubhouse for quiet and respectful.

Still, the vast majority of fans in Neyland are sitting down, complaining when others stand up in front of them and for the most part are there to have a relaxing Autumn afternoon or evening. This place use to be a madhouse. Now, it's downright maddening how the atmosphere has changed so much.

When you look at the way Neyland is laid out (it goes straight up from the field) along with its mammoth capacity, no other college football crowd should be able to touch the Vols for a significant home field advantage. Now, rarely do you hear anyone speak about Tennessee fans in the same breath with Arkansas fans, much less Florida or LSU.

And then there's The Coach.

When Steve Spurrier arrived at Florida, he practically challenged Gators fans to turn Ben Hill Griffin Stadium upside down with noise. Actually, that's not quite true. He DID challenge their fan base to out-yell any other. To this day, crowds in the Swamp are unmatched for deafening noise. They are also a very close second to matching Philadelphia Eagles fans as the nastiest in the western hemisphere. If you've been to an Eagles game, you know that's saying something.

Phillip Fulmer could go a long way toward changing the entire face of crowd involvement and noise in Neyland by doing one, simple thing: Speaking up. Over the years the best he's offered is asking Vols fans to show up and give their support to the orange and white. Say what? That's simply not enough.

He needs to look no further than down the hall at a fellow named Bruce Pearl to understand the impact one man - one coach - can have on an entire fan base. One trip into Thompson-Boling Arena, and he's made more than a few, to see what one man - one coach - can do to energize and electrify an arena. Sure, it's the players creating the magic. But the players are a direct reflection of the man at the top.

If Fulmer came out in an interview or in one of his patented emails to the Vols faithful and took a page out of Spurrier's book, perish the thought, by challenging Vols fans to bring back the old, Neyland might once again be a feared road spot in college football.

A stadium's crowd won't win a game for the home team. But can they add an intangible that might tip the scales in a crucial situation? Can they make it brutally difficult for the opponent the moment they step onto the field in warm-ups? Can they let everyone in attendance know there is something different about playing in Neyland Stadium?

The answer to all is an emphatic "Yes."

CGabriel is a radio talk show host, freelance writer and voiceover artist. A native of Chicago, he makes his home in Minneapolis with the three loves of his life: His beautiful wife and two daughters.