Mays offer offers a senior moment
Brent Hubbs
VolQuest.com Editor
My older friends always told me I would have that moment. That point where you said, "Man, I'm old." For me, that moment came a couple of weeks ago.
It has nothing to do with the fact that I will be 40 years old in October. And it certainly was not because my 17th wedding anniversary was a couple of weeks ago. Nor is it based on no longer being able to physically do something.
No, my "I'm old" moment came from the fact that former Vol Kevin Mays' son, Cade, has been offered a scholarship to the University of Tennessee. It marks the first time that I can say that I covered that prospect's dad when he was in college.
So it's official - I'm old.
Cade Mays is young - really young. He will enroll as a high school freshman this fall at nearby Catholic High School here in Knoxville, where the sons of Vols coaches Butch Jones, John Jancek and Willie Martinez all attend or, in the case of the younger Martinez, just graduated. So there's some built-in comfort, familiarity and knowledge there with that program and the prospect.
I will admit that I've never seen him play. I don't know how good he is or will be. Obviously, Tennessee really likes him.
What I can say with 100-percent confidence is if he plays football like his daddy, he's going to be really good.
I first saw the elder Mays when I was a sophomore in high school. My alma mater, Gibbs High School, had the most talented team that its fans had seen in years. My Eagles rolled into Kingston on a cold November night in the state playoffs and I witnessed Kevin Mays dominate as his Yellow Jackets whipped up on my Eagles.
I thought to myself then, "He's the meanest football player I have ever witnessed play in person." Four years later, in 1994, I found myself interviewing Mays and watching him practice every day during the first year I covered the Vols. And my earlier notion was absolutely true: Kevin Mays was the meanest football player I had ever seen.
Please know that I mean that as a compliment.
Mays played the game with a nasty disposition. He played physical. He was relentless and played through the echo of the whistle, if he even heard one. He had little regard for his opponent. Oh, he respected them, but he certainly had no use for them. In his four years at Tennessee the defensive-lineman-turned-offensive-lineman helped the Vols rush for nearly 10,000 yards, averaging nearly 7 yards a carry. Mays' senior season, the Vols rushed for 2,543 yards while breaking in a freshman quarterback by the name of Peyton Manning. Throughout the last 20 years, I've covered great players and some of them have been mean between the lines, but none meaner than Mays. Had Mays not suffered a serious knee injury preparing for the draft, he would have played a long time in the NFL.
Off the field, Kevin Mays was like many offensive linemen: a man of few words who didn't care for any media spotlight. He wasn't interested in media interviews or media people. He wanted to play football his way, which was at 110 percent with a disposition to finish each play. He was not hard to coach, but rather was a coach's dream.
If Cade Mays plays football anything like his father, then this old man is comfortable saying it only makes sense the Vols offered the soon-to-be freshman a scholarship to follow in his father's footsteps as a VFL.
In my book, anyone with Kevin Mays' genes is worth the risk, because, really there's not much risk at all.
Brent Hubbs
VolQuest.com Editor
My older friends always told me I would have that moment. That point where you said, "Man, I'm old." For me, that moment came a couple of weeks ago.
It has nothing to do with the fact that I will be 40 years old in October. And it certainly was not because my 17th wedding anniversary was a couple of weeks ago. Nor is it based on no longer being able to physically do something.
No, my "I'm old" moment came from the fact that former Vol Kevin Mays' son, Cade, has been offered a scholarship to the University of Tennessee. It marks the first time that I can say that I covered that prospect's dad when he was in college.
So it's official - I'm old.
Cade Mays is young - really young. He will enroll as a high school freshman this fall at nearby Catholic High School here in Knoxville, where the sons of Vols coaches Butch Jones, John Jancek and Willie Martinez all attend or, in the case of the younger Martinez, just graduated. So there's some built-in comfort, familiarity and knowledge there with that program and the prospect.
I will admit that I've never seen him play. I don't know how good he is or will be. Obviously, Tennessee really likes him.
What I can say with 100-percent confidence is if he plays football like his daddy, he's going to be really good.
I first saw the elder Mays when I was a sophomore in high school. My alma mater, Gibbs High School, had the most talented team that its fans had seen in years. My Eagles rolled into Kingston on a cold November night in the state playoffs and I witnessed Kevin Mays dominate as his Yellow Jackets whipped up on my Eagles.
I thought to myself then, "He's the meanest football player I have ever witnessed play in person." Four years later, in 1994, I found myself interviewing Mays and watching him practice every day during the first year I covered the Vols. And my earlier notion was absolutely true: Kevin Mays was the meanest football player I had ever seen.
Please know that I mean that as a compliment.
Mays played the game with a nasty disposition. He played physical. He was relentless and played through the echo of the whistle, if he even heard one. He had little regard for his opponent. Oh, he respected them, but he certainly had no use for them. In his four years at Tennessee the defensive-lineman-turned-offensive-lineman helped the Vols rush for nearly 10,000 yards, averaging nearly 7 yards a carry. Mays' senior season, the Vols rushed for 2,543 yards while breaking in a freshman quarterback by the name of Peyton Manning. Throughout the last 20 years, I've covered great players and some of them have been mean between the lines, but none meaner than Mays. Had Mays not suffered a serious knee injury preparing for the draft, he would have played a long time in the NFL.
Off the field, Kevin Mays was like many offensive linemen: a man of few words who didn't care for any media spotlight. He wasn't interested in media interviews or media people. He wanted to play football his way, which was at 110 percent with a disposition to finish each play. He was not hard to coach, but rather was a coach's dream.
If Cade Mays plays football anything like his father, then this old man is comfortable saying it only makes sense the Vols offered the soon-to-be freshman a scholarship to follow in his father's footsteps as a VFL.
In my book, anyone with Kevin Mays' genes is worth the risk, because, really there's not much risk at all.
