SEAMLESS TRANSITION

By Will Shingleton

How do you replace a legend?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Free Time Media
• Release date: Aug 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9780578855523

Will Shingleton

Birmingham State is burning. The entire college football landscape has been rocked by a recruiting scandal at one of its premier institutions, and coach Frank Payton, the architect of the decades-long Birmingham State dynasty, sits right at the center of it all. When a young reporter begins to dig into the true nature of Payton's crimes, though, he discovers that there's much more to the storythan meets the eye. While most of the national media focuses on the recent misconduct, a series of deep interviews and artihat Payton's indiscretions extend far beyond recruiting. For the past 30 years, no one's been able to stand between Frank Payton and his pursuit of excellence. Not even his former protégé.

Book preview

1

This isn’t Frank Payton’s Worst Mistake; Just His Costliest

Howard Carter - The Sports Journal - May 29, 2019

Just like that, one of the most esteemed coaching careers in the history of collegiate athletics, if not all of sports, is over. 

Many fans and journalists alike have speculated over the past few weeks that this recruiting scandal would cost Frank Payton his job, and at 9:35 this morning, those people were proven right. A source close to the program confirmed to the Journal that Payton was indeed stepping down as head football coach at Birmingham State, with a formal press conference to come this afternoon.

I think that all of us that care about this game have had that moment over the past few days where we look at ourselves and ask: Is this really happening? Well, now there’s no doubt. The king is gone. Under normal circumstances, you’d be able to hear cheers echoing around the athletic complexes of every major university in the Southeast, but considering the grim context, they’ll probably just do it in private.

Of the many twists and turns that this story has taken so far, this one is by far the gravest. When reports emerged that Birmingham State was being investigated for alleged recruiting violations, few could have guessed that we’d be here just a few short weeks later. After all, major college football programs get investigated all the time. One of the biggest talking points from Payton’s many supporters over the years has been that, unlike many of his peers, his State program has been squeaky clean (ostensibly, at least) when it comes to NCAA compliance. Now, though, the many critics that scoffed at that lily-white image appear to be having their day in the sun. The godfather is gone, and, despite his singularly well-stocked trophy cabinet and dozens of NFL first-rounders among his former players, his legacy is now as complicated as anyone else’s. 

With 248 wins and five national championships in 29 years at Birmingham State, in most people’s mind, Frank Payton is the greatest coach in college football history. All the way up until Payton got the job in the late ‘80s, the State football program was always seen as an underachiever, if not a diamond in the rough. State reached conference title games intermittently and had a smattering of ten-win seasons, but the narrative that they had no penchant for winning big games was difficult for them to shake. Instead, the Ironmen had to watch their biggest rivals, Poly and Tennessee, claim titles while they prepared for their bowl game in late December. 

Frank Payton changed all of that. Before he even got to State, Payton had completely turned Indiana’s program around in his five years there, wildly overachieving in a period that nearly saw them make the Rose Bowl for the first time since 1967. Despite having been named Big Ten Coach of the Year in his final season, though, he was not the popular choice to replace Mike Martin as State’s head coach in 1988. For years, State’s policy had been to only hire coaches with connections to the program. Former head coach and athletic director Jim Sturt made sure of it, citing the need for a man with State DNA to lead the program. Purists and boosters alike lauded their commitment to the State way, so the announcement of Payton, a stern, snarling, Catholic, Ohioan as head coach, was deemed an enormous risk despite the program’s continued underperformance while enacting that policy. Success, it seemed, was not as important to the Ironmen as pedigree.

Soon, however, they learned to embrace a new level of pedigree. By the year 2000, State was winning national championships nearly every other year, and all issues about Payton’s heritage were forgotten. In just shy of three decades, he ascended to near godlike status in Central Alabama. Cover articles were written (at least one or two of them by me) about his comprehensive approach to running a football program, from personally choosing many of the non-team personnel to masterfully manipulating the narrative around the team from year to year. The path from his program to the NFL was so clear and so well-trodden that parents were signing their sons up left and right to play for him. Boosters threw money at State’s athletic program without thinking twice. When Payton was named the athletic director in 2009, it seemed like more of a horizontal move than a vertical one, maybe even a step down. Up until a few weeks ago, he seemed unimpeachable, to the point that he could do no wrong; even when he very clearly did. 

While the scope of this scandal is still being unearthed, this latest chapter should not come as a surprise. The scale and brazen lack of control are shocking, to be sure, but this is not the first time that the uglier parts of Frank Payton’s character have been on display. As the years have stretched on, Payton’s short but nonetheless Shakespearean season away from State’s sideline has been relegated to a blip, an outlier in his career. Now, though, the weeks-long drama that surrounded his exit from, and then near-immediate return to, the head coaching position in 2010 seems like it couldn’t be more relevant.

For the sake of those who were living under a rock in 2010, here’s a gross oversimplification: rock star offensive coordinator Dave Medina sheds his infamous coach-in-waiting tag to replace Payton after the latter steps down to become the AD, and their first losing season since the ‘80s, before Payton became the coach, follows. Regardless of the various factors that led to it, State fans have been spoiled to the point that a 4-8 record is seen as an unforgivable blight on the program’s honor. No matter the circumstances, State is supposed to be above that sort of thing. Under the premise of an unacceptable program environment, a tenuous relationship between Payton and Medina, and the worst season for the program in three decades, Medina is asked to leave, and Payton becomes the coach again after just 11 months. 

Ten years after the fact, it seems unthinkable. Medina has now built a mid-major empire at Central Florida, and Payton’s State has failed to hit the same heights since relieving Medina of his duties. And yet, at the time, very few were banging the drum in Medina’s defense. 

Why was that?

The poor record that Medina’s inexperienced team earned provided an extra layer of protection for Payton on top of the one he’d already spent decades cultivating. Somehow, despite the somewhat authoritarian nature of Medina’s firing, he escaped the situation with most people assuming that it was the right call, including me. Surely if Frank Payton thought it was the right choice to make, it probably was. There were too many checks and balances in place to ensure he couldn’t make that sort of judgment unilaterally, anyway. Right? Just to make absolutely sure that no one went off message, Payton even came out and expressed solidarity with Medina. It just didn’t work out, he told us with a forlorn face. It hurt him to make that decision. Make no mistake, though, that despite assurances from Payton to the contrary, he was fine with being the coach again, no matter the cost to his former protégé. 

I think that whatever the NCAA ends up finding, something similar could be said about the predicament State finds itself in now. Frank Payton may not have signed his name to what went down. He may never have emerged fully from behind the curtain, back then or today, but he was there. 

Like most of these high-profile recruiting cases, it’s doubtful that the coach himself was directly involved in the actual scandaling. There are boosters, backchannels, and bag men for that sort of thing, but the likelihood that such a long-running operation could have been going without Payton knowing anything about it is also quite small. 

What he did know, however, was that the players he signed were the best of the best. No matter what was happening off the field, the results on it seemed to justify the means.

If anything, everyone involved probably assumed that he’d get the same protections he’d gotten a decade before. Ironically, though, their perception of his invulnerability would cost them the coach they’d risked everything for. 

Payton’s actions have always had consequences. They were just big enough this time for people to actually care. One of those consequences is the head coach at Central Florida now. Payton’s previous lapse into autocracy, when he showed that he was indeed capable of getting his own hands dirty, cost Dave Medina the biggest opportunity he’s had over his entire career. The world might finally get to know what Dave’s known for the last decade: what really happened. The door’s finally open for him to set the record straight, but characteristically, he’s taken the high road so far. Maybe that will change soon. Selfishly, I certainly hope it does. He deserves the chance to finally, really step out from Frank Payton’s shadow. 

2

The Sports Journal Manhattan Office

New York, NY - May 2019

Howard Carter, Chief Sports Editor for the Journal: That you, Crownie?

John Crown, Junior Reporter: Yeah, Car. Hold on—my fiancée’s calling me, let me tell her I’m in a meeting real quick. 

HC: Take your time. 

JC: …okay, I’m ready. What’s up?

HC: I know you just got back from doing the Eastern Conference Finals, but we need you to go back out. State’s burning to the ground.

JC: Didn’t you just write something about State?

HC: I did, but it was an opinion piece. There’s still a lot of meat left on that bone. Interviews that I don’t have time to do. Research. First person accounts. This is a nuclear bomb that just went off, Crownie. People need to be able to make sense of what happened. A well-written story could do them and us both some good. 

JC: Okay, but I’ve got to be at HQ in a week for Finals coverage. 

HC: Oh, that’s plenty of time for a guy like you. That’s why we gave you that promotion, right? 

JC: I guess so?

HC: That’s the spirit. You’re a State grad, right? This kind of thing should be right at home for you. Literally. 

JC: Yeah, but I can’t say I was ever super plugged into the program. I’ve gotten a ton of texts from friends this week like what do you think, and all I can say is I think it’s bad. I have no connections to Payton, either. You want me to do this super in-depth story about him, but I have a week to do it and nowhere to start. 

HC: I can help with that part; I covered college football for years and was around State plenty back in the day. I might have even been there when you were in school, come to think of it. But there’s one guy you should definitely reach out to—one of their old Associate AD’s, a guy named Tim Katopodis. PR director. Real nice, very forthcoming when I worked with him in the past. Here’s his number, and now that I’m thinking about it, he might be able to get you in with Medina. Dave doesn’t do much press these days, but if you make it as easy for him as possible…

JC: Like, what? Take a little side trip to Orlando in the week I’m supposed to be off?

HC: If that’s what it takes. 

JC: Jesus, Howard. 

HC: You’re in the Big Leagues now, Crownie. Dave Medina is a Big League interview. People will tune in for that all on its own. You should talk to Russ Porter while you’re down at HQ for the Finals, too.

JC: ….do I have to?

HC: (laughs) come on now, Russ isn’t that bad. And strictly speaking, he’s your boss, so I’d be more careful if you ever want to be a senior reporter. But I have no doubt that he’ll have plenty to say about all of this, and you can be damn sure it’ll get you some clicks. 

JC: That’s what it’s all about, after all. 

HC: Cheer up, Crownie. This is a big opportunity for you.

JC: (scoffs) I’ll try to keep that in mind while I don’t sleep for a week trying to make deadline.

HC: Good luck, John. I’ll see you in a couple of weeks when you get back. 

3

John Crown’s Living Room

New York, NY - Phone Call in May 2019

John Crown: Hello? Is this Tim Katopodis?

Tim Katopodis, former Associate Athletic Director at Birmingham State: Yes, sir. 

JC: Amazing. Thanks for agreeing to talk to me; I know it’s probably been a crazy last few weeks for you.

TK: (laughs) you could certainly say that. 

JC: Can you hear me okay?

TK: I can, yeah. Service out here can be a little shoddy, but it sounds fine so far.

JC: Great. Okay, so before we get started, can you say and spell your name for me?

TK: I can. I’m Tim Katopodis; that’s T-I-M, K-A-T-O-P-O-D-I-S. 

JC: Great, thanks. I may still spell it wrong, but at least I have it on tape now.

TK: You wouldn’t be the first. Or the last, most likely.

JC: Well, I don’t want to take up too much of your time, so I’ll get right to it: what is your connection to Birmingham State?

TK: I was the deputy athletic director of administration at State for eight years, from 2002–2009. Or maybe it was 2001? I’m not sure (laughs), but it seemed like a hell of a long time, especially by the end. 

JC: So you left right around when Coach Payton became the athletic director.

TK: I left exactly when that happened, as a matter of fact.

JC: Are you willing to talk about that at all?

TK: Sure. I don’t think I’m the person to really give you the best picture of what happened, but I was certainly right there in the middle of it. Are you wanting to talk more about that whole thing or him stepping down now?

JC: Either. 

TK: Okay, well I’ve been out of the game for a while now, but I’ll give it a shot. I went to the private sector for a while, and now I’m the athletic director at a smaller school back home. So I’m a little tuned out from all the big news. 

JC: That’s fine, I’ll take whatever you can give me. Where’s home for you?

TK: South Carolina, out on the coast. 

JC: I’ve been up there a couple of times covering recruiting. It’s nice.

TK: Yeah, it is. Is this story a recruiting piece?

JC: No, I got shifted to the general college football beat a few weeks ago; right before everything hit the fan with State, actually. I can’t decide if that was good or bad timing.

TK: (laughs) probably a little of both. Sounds like you got a bit of a promotion in any case, congratulations.

JC: Thanks. 

TK: I’ll try and give you something good...I feel some pressure all of a sudden. You don’t happen to work with Russ Porter at all, do you?

JC: I don’t, no. He works in the home office in Atlanta. I’ve met him before, though. Interesting guy. 

TK: That’s certainly one way of putting it. Anyway, I’m happy to talk about whatever you want, but like I said, I think there are probably a couple more people that you should talk to if you’re trying to get the whole story. Definitely one guy you have to talk to.

JC: Who did you have in mind?

TK: Well—actually, I don’t know. I don’t think he’s given very many interviews about it since 2009 happened. If you can get him to go on the record, you’ve got to get Dave Medina. He’s probably one of the few who can really make sense of all of this. He was Coach Payton’s top assistant for years. He’s too good of a guy to throw anyone under the bus, especially Frank, but he’s worth trying to bring in.

JC: We reached out to him a couple of days ago, but he gave us a pretty sketchy answer.

TK: Sounds like him. Dave’s gotten to be a pretty private guy with the media, but who can blame him after all of that. 

JC: Yeah, I know what you mean. I’ll try him again though. 

TK: Do that. Dave’s a great guy; he’s just been through a lot. If you can get him to talk to you, though, it’s worth a shot. You never know what may happen. 

4

University of Central Florida Athletics Building

Orlando, FL - June 2019

John Crown: Can I sit here?

Dave Medina, Head Coach at Central Florida: Yeah, sure, bro. Sit wherever you want. 

JC: Thanks; just didn’t know if any of this was important.

DM: Important? Nah, man, you know there’s nothing too important in here (winks). That’s just some scouting reports; you can put them on the chair over there. 

JC: Over here?

DM: (nods)

JC: Cool. Okay, great, I think we’re ready. Thanks for sitting down and talking with me, Coach. 

DM: Of course; you asked so nicely, dude. I couldn’t turn you down after that. 

JC: I’ll have to tell my mom you said that; she’d be proud. 

DM: Y’all talk a lot?

JC: Who, me and my mom?

DM: (nods)

JC: Not since I moved to New York. 

DM: I feel that, man. You get the big job, and it gets harder and harder to make time for the most important people. 

JC: Speaking of big jobs—

DM: You gonna ask me about Coach Payton?

JC: Er—I mean, yeah, that was the plan. You said that was okay when we talked on the phone.

DM: I did.

JC: Has that changed?

DM: No, it’s fine, bro. Go ahead. 

JC: You sure?

DM: Yeah, man. You came all this way, do your thing. But I want to get one thing straight first.

JC: Of course. Whatever you want. 

DM: I’m not going to shit-talk Frank. Just not gonna do it. 

JC: Oh, of course. I was planning on following your lead there anyways. 

DM: All right then, compañero. Glad we got that understood. He and I been through some stuff, Lord knows, but it’s not my place to disrespect him like that. He’s had a rough month as it is. Like you said earlier, that’s not how my mamá raised me. 

JC: I get that. You getting any flashbacks from all that 2010 stuff seeing him on TV?

DM: (chuckles) that feels like a whole lifetime ago, but yeah. Major flashbacks. 

JC: You feel any sympathy for him? 

DM: For Coach Payton?

JC: (nods)

DM: Um….in a way, yeah. Parts of me feel some sympathy.

JC: Which parts are those?

DM: The parts that remember what it was like to sit in that seat. That dude was my boss, man. And my mentor for five years. Five years. That’s an eternity in college football. I mean, hell, I was the head coach for 11 months and it felt like I’d done a whole career’s worth by the time it ended.

JC: You seem like you’ve done a pretty good job moving on from it, though. 

DM: (laughs) says who?

JC: Well, the AP poll, for one. That Orange Bowl trophy I saw on the way in seems like a pretty good argument. 

DM: Yeah, we’ve got a pretty good thing going up here, but that doesn’t make the past go away. All I’ve done is the best I can to pick myself up and move on, just like I tell my players to do when they get hit hard. 

JC: That makes sense. You know, I’ve been around college football my whole life, and I don’t think I’ve ever gotten all the details about you leaving State.