I Am The Gooey Filling Of Nick Saban’s Oatmeal Creme Pie And I Deserve The Credit For Alabama’s Dynasty
After six championships in eleven years, the oatmeal-based Little Debbie cake that is the staple of coach Nick Saban’s diet makes its case for glory.
“(Nick) Saban is a big believer in oatmeal cream pies” — Sports Illustrated, 1/6/2018
When you’ve won six championships in eleven seasons, everybody wants to know your secret. How you train, recruit, motivate, practice, and, year after year after year, win. And while there are many who’ve earned their place in 21st century Alabama lore, if anyone deserves credit for the Crimson Tide’s dynasty, it’s me, the gooey filling of an Oatmeal Creme Pie.
Most folks heap praise on Nick Saban, now the winningest college football coach by titles in the history of the sport. There’s a reason Coach Saban has a statue outside of the stadium: he’s a master of defensive schemes, fussing at anyone within earshot, and never appearing remotely happy or content, even after a half-dozen championships or creme pies. He’s what makes Bama Bama. Well, we make a creme pie a creme pie, and he eats two of us each morning, so who’s the G.O.A.T. now?
Like Coach always mutters under his breath each morning before sunrise as he rips open the box and tears into my teammates, we win as a team and we lose as a team. And I’ll be the first to admit we’ve had some good teams around here. That 2009 Mark Ingram bunch was fun as hell, the 2015 team was tougher than week-old Kroger brand Little Debbie cakes, and the gaudy offensive numbers this year’s team put up just about makes me creme myself (think about that!).
All those great teams didn’t just happen. Something had to bring those players together. Something bigger than themselves. Something sticky. Something gooey.
I’ve heard sports radio gasbags asking the same tired questions for a while now — why me? Does the synthetic creme pie filling deserve credit for even one of Alabama’s titles this century, much less all six? Is the decadent center of Nick Saban’s daily sacrament overrated?
Frankly, if you’re not in the trenches with me every morning, sandwiched between two sugary oatmeal-based wafers, I don’t care what you have to say. I tune out the noise. I can’t hear it over the sound of Coach Saban’s fingers pawing at our crinkly plastic covering.
They say breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and Coach says your daily habits are the building blocks of your character, and he’s the greatest coach of all time, so it’s not a stretch to say that the filling of an Oatmeal Creme Pie is the gooey pillar upon which the Alabama dynasty rests.
Look, I can’t throw a football, juke a DB, or catch a pass (though I have offered to be lathered like Stickum onto the gloves of Alabama receivers). I don’t call the plays, woo recruits, or fire up the team in the locker room. But I am the glue that holds together the Oatmeal Creme Pie that holds together the coach who built the greatest dynasty of the last half century.
I’m not asking for much. I don’t have a number to retire, no fingers for rings. But I’m thinking that Saban statue could use a slight tweak: me, the gooey filling of an Oatmeal Creme Pie, oozing from his bronzed lips.
