By DJ Moore
I arrived on Vanderbilt’s campus full of optimism. I had just graduated from high school and would attend summer session at Vanderbilt University. I had never really even heard of Vanderbilt until they started recruiting me. After that, I began to see them all the time on television. The first time I had ever watched a game was a Vanderbilt vs. Tennessee game. A young freshman wide receiver was making plays all over the field. I think he won the game on a slant or something like that.
After a little 7 on 7, it was time for DB vs. WR. If you know me, you know I’m a shit talker. I started by working my way up the depth chart one receiver after another. I was shutting them down and talking cold cash shit. Finally, it was Scottie Pippen’s turn to run his route. He was on the line, and I pressed him so badly that he didn’t even get off the track. I made him look like the Portland Trailblazer Pippen if that helps your imagination. Then it was Michael Jordan’s turn. He seemed hesitant at first, but I’m not sure of the reason.
I kept talking, and it seemed to spark his interest to shut me up. He approached the line of scrimmage while getting his signal from the Quarterback. All eyes were on us. He stabbed inside, but I didn’t take the bait. He went outside, and I get my hands on him as he released outside up the field. Then the moment of truth. The ball hit the air and I remember being puzzled at how far the QB was throwing the ball. I thought to myself that he overthrew the ball. I looked to locate Earl, and he was in 5th gear. He somehow caught up with the ball. Game over. This must be how Russel felt when Jordan hit the game-winner against him. My young ass had just got toasted by Earl Bennett, or you could call him Vanderbilt’s Michael Jordan.
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