The Rush of Victory

Under coach George Rush, City College regularly wins national football titles. But is community college really the place for big-time sports?

A A A Comments (1) By Tommy Craggs Wednesday, Jan 8 2003

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"Guys," he's saying now, "I wanna talk about a couple things." He first addresses the sophomores, who will be leaving City College, naming several and saying something nice about each of them. He occasionally refers to a blue note card.

"Tommie," he says, talking about Tommie Pratt, a defensive lineman and two-year starter, who is crouching in front of him. "Great captain, great player, the anchor of the defense. Great guy. Great football player." Pratt looks at the floor. His eyes may or may not redden.

Paolo Vescia

Tailback Tim Brown scampers around College of San Mateo's defense.

Paolo Vescia

Rush has coached the Rams since 1977.

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Rush goes on. He brings up his old coach, Dutch Elston, talks about how he loved to win, about how he loved his players. Then a crescendo. Rush mentions the College of San Mateo.

"We never lose to these guys," he says. "If you do anything this season, you beat the hell out of 'em. I'm telling you ... we go on that field, we go up on that field today, there's only one purpose. What's that, Tommie? What we gonna do?"

"Beat the hell out of 'em," Pratt says softly.

"Beat the hell out of 'em," Rush says, getting louder. And now the climax. "Five years, 10 years from now, 20 years from now, you bring your kids -- how many guys here had dads play here? Raise your hands, raise 'em, get 'em up high. Must be half-dozen of 'em in here someplace. I'll tell you something. When you come back here, say, 'Son'" -- now he's shouting -- "say, 'Son, you shoulda been there on December 7th, 2002.'" His voice drops. He scans the room. "'Shoulda been there. Should've seen what we did. Son, shoulda been there. Shoulda been there.'"

The players start clapping, whooping. "Let's go," Rush says, and the rap kicks back in, and everyone bounds out of the room. "Shoulda been there!" one guy yells. They're slapping hands, walls, anything. Of course, Rush could've been reciting the Bill of Rights, and with a few good pauses and inflections, they'd be yelling about due process.

"SHOULDA BEEN THERE!"

And out skips the team into the hallway, past the trophy case, around the Chinese woman hustling her two wide-eyed young daughters out of the way, out the door of the ratty gymnasium, up the stairs to the stadium, onto the field and across the turf, now beneath a clear sky and the low hum of a few hundred parents, cousins, and faithful girlfriends. Shoulda been there.