Lars Anderson - Chasing the Bear: How Bear Bryant and Nick Saban Made Alabama the Greatest College Football Program of All Time

Past and Present

T he grandson rode in the car behind the long white hearse on that cold January day in 1983. Looking out the window as a twenty-year-old, he saw thousands of fans on Interstate 20/59 stop their cars and pickup trucks and 18-wheelers to watch the funeral procession of three hundred vehicles roll by, their headlights aglow in the gray winter afternoon. At overpasses the grandson spotted businessmen with their fedoras placed over their hearts and farmers in overalls with tears rolling down their cheeks. There were hundreds and hundreds of children, too, wearing Crimson Tide jackets and gazing in wonder at the spectacle.

All along the fifty-five-mile route from Tuscaloosas First United Methodist Church to Birmingham, where the graveside service would be held at Elmwood Cemetery, he witnessed thousands of mourners standing at the side of the road, their faces frozen, just there to watch, to feel, to witness history and the Souths longest farewell. That was when it really hit Marc Bryant Tyson: His grandfather, Paul Bear Bryant, who had died two days earlier at the age of sixty-nine, might have been the most revered figure in the history of Alabama.

The love I saw that day of the funeral for my grandfather shocked me, Tyson said. It was like the entire state had lost a member of their own family. It took my breath away. I had no idea. I mean, no idea.

The grandson is fifty-six years old now, and he has a son of his own: Paul William Bryant Tyson. Marc began taking Paul to Alabama games when his boy was four years old in 2004. Sitting in their seats in the front row of the south end zone at Bryant-Denny Stadium, surround by fans in black-and-white houndstooth hats, the father and son would see the image of the Bear appear on the video boards, and then his gravelly, pack-a-day voice would rumble down from grandstands over the PA system, like God shouting from the heavens in a Southern drawl: I aint never been nothin but a winner, causing the crowd to erupt in a kind of rapture.

Through the years Marc kept bringing his son to games, pausing at the bronzed statue of Bear Bryant outside of the stadium and sharing stories about Pauls great-grandfather. Tales about how Marc and PapaMarcs name for Bryantused to fish together in ponds around Tuscaloosa, with Bear using a cane pole, a red-and-white bobber, and crickets for bait, trying to catch blue gill bream that weighed a half poundhis favorite food, even more than steak. How Bryant used to let him climb the thirty-three steps to the top of his iron tower during practice and watch the Tide players with him, the Bear with a bullhorn in hand, eyeing his players in combat. How Marc stood on the sideline during games and would greet his granddaddy after the final whistle on the field, where Bryant would put his arm around his grandson and together the two would walk through the growing afternoon shadows toward the dressing room.

How at nights after games Marc would tune the radio in Bryants den to a game that featured another Southeastern Conference team, the crackling play-by-play filling up the room as Bryant ate dinner on a rickety card table tray. And how Bryant had attended Marcs first high school football game, which he played in Brookstown, Georgia, when he was in the eleventh grade. Not wanting to make his grandson nervous, Bryant had planned to sneak into the game, sit in a corner of the grandstands, and act like he was reading a newspaper, holding it open just beneath his eyes. He was discovered by admiring fans, but when Marc saw his grandfather it filled him with the one thing that Bryant always instilled in his players: confidence.

Young Paul was hypnotized by all these stories about the man he never met. He soon grew fascinated by another Alabama coach, one whose coaching career overlapped his great-grandfathers by ten years, but a coach that Bear Bryant never faced on the field: Nick Saban. In November 2009Sabans third season in TuscaloosaMarc and Paul were in their Row 1 seats inside Bryant-Denny Stadium at the beginning of the fourth quarter against Louisiana State University. Trailing the Tigers 1513, an older Crimson Tide fan recognized nine-year-old Paul and bent over and kissed him on the forehead for good luck. A moment later, Alabama wide receiver Julio Jones caught a pass and blazed down the sideline to give the Tide a lead they would never surrender. The affectionate fan rejoiced.

Over the next few years Paul rarely missed attending Alabama games, traveling to see his Tide play in season openers, conference games, SEC title games, and national championship games. He met Nick Saban at various functions where the coach was speaking, and the two talked a few more times in Sabans office on the second floor of the Mal Moore Athletic Facility, a redbrick structure on Paul W. Bryant Drive. The sight of the five-eight, 180-pound Saban always held the boys eyes, and the coachs words left him thunderstruck after every interaction. Paul imagined that was how his great-grandfather made his fans feel.

By the time he was a junior in high school in 2017, the great-grandson of the Bear had grown into a six-four, 210-pound quarterback at Hewitt-Trussville High outside of Birmingham. In December 2017 Saban invited Paul to Tuscaloosa for a practice. Standing on the sideline as his Crimson Tide players warmed up, Saban told Paul, Every coach I have talked to on our staff wants you to play for Alabama. This isnt because of your great-grandfather. This is because of you and the player we believe you can become. Paul, who grew up with a bust of his great-grandfather in his bedroom, couldnt suppress his smile. Saban shook his hand and said, Now you think about it. Ive got to get back to practice. And off Saban jogged.