This is a little story that has been lingering on my mind for so many years it has a beard by now. It was dredged up by my pastor Sunday morning when his sermon was titled “Thank You—Thank You Very Much,” straight out of Elvis Presley’s entertainment dialogue.

Back when, Early Maxwell was the king of the entertainment world in Memphis. Top of the heap. Any star who chose to bring his (or her) show to Memphis went through Early Maxwell. Tall, bald, humorous, and a good guy and as far as I know, honest as a banker—most bankers.

This is his story, told direct to me, among others, one night during the Masters in Augusta. As Early tells it, he was sitting in his office one day when a rather shy young fellow with bushy hair knocked on his door. Early invited him in and asked him what he could do for him. The kid had a guitar case with him, so Early had an idea what was on the kid’s mind. He was a musician, sang and played and was looking for someone to be his agent. Naturally, coming from around Memphis (via Tupelo, Miss.), he’d heard of Early Maxwell.

Early was busy. He had a big show coming to town, but he took the time to give the kid some advice.

“Look, I’m tied up. I don’t have time to take you on,” he said. “Tell you what. Why don’t you check with Colonel Parker, just down the hall. He’s not every busy. Maybe he can give you a hand.”

Elvis was crestfallen – said he’d do it, but he might be back. He never did return to Early’s office, though. Col. Tom Parker had a gold mine tossed into his lap. Early never cried a tear, although wasn’t too long after, Elvis became Memphis’ “top dog”. But Early still had his gig. Colonel Parker had Elvis, and all lived happily ever after. Well, all except Elvis, who died by his own undoing while still a young man. But that’s another story, and not one for today.

Once upon a time—and this no fairy tale—the South was so heavily engaged in football that in nearly every city of size there was a heavy duty club devoted to football. Some were named “Touchdown Clubs” and others were “Quarterback Clubs”, but in the end they were all pledged to football—high school and college. (Once in England I happened onto one in London, a bunch of transplanted Americans who gathered each Monday noon, watched a film of the Sunday Falcon game and pledged allegiance to football. That’s right, the Falcons, through thick and thin.)

Nearly every Monday I was booked by one club or another, sometimes two days in a row. Those clubs were football crazy. They invested heavily in speakers, and in awards to the local high school stars of the week. Banquet rooms were filled and rocking with enthusiasm. Then television intruded, as did the NFL. So did racial implications, and players and family. Often honored players were sons of domestics and honest laborers who traveled in circles segregated from club membership, and in many cities, the fan clubs dwindled away. I saw it up close, and it was painful, mainly in smaller towns, but it happened

But while many gave in to social pressures, not Atlanta. The “Touchdown Club”, which was organized in 1938, moved on and above the fray. It lives and it bustles. It was once the most prominent football fan club in the South, and probably still is. (“Fan” is probably not the proper designation. These members are more than fans; they are loyalists, first to their alma mater, then to the game itself.)

The “Touchdown Club” convenes each Monday at Atlantic Station, and it bustles. Over the years the heart-beat of the “Touchdown Club” has usually been one person full of drive and vigor, and in this case his name is Lee Baker. Usually, a college coach is the weekly speaker and in this case, Paul Johnson of Georgia Tech. Only high school players and their coaches are honored. No college players. There are reasons, but I’m not sure what they are.

This past Monday, Blake Sims and Tailer Jones, quarterback and wide receiver from Gainesville, and Grant Ramsey, lineman from Pope High School, were the honorees, and coaches Bruce Miller from Gainesville and Matt Kemper from Pope. Sims will be going to Notre Dame, a student who is at home before audience. When asked if the precarious state of Charlie Weis as head coach might sidetrack his future at South Bend, he said, “I chose Notre Dame for the school and its academics, not the coach.”

Ramsey will be going to Vanderbilt, another player with academics high on his future list. It was more than coincidental that Johnson had attracted a vigorous turnout of old Tech players, dating back to the ‘Yellow Jackets’ national championship team of 1952. Johnson joined in cheering them, but he is a man who lives for the day, not yesterday. A rare cut of a coach in his conduct of a game, somewhat like Bobby Dodd, except that he calls each play spontaneously. Dodd only designated a play now and then, leaning on his lead assistants, Frank Broyles and Ray Graves.

So have times changed on the sideline, but not at the Touchdown Club. The game moves on but the Touchdown Club continues its football mission, as does Paul Johnson, whose coaching theme is: “If we play our game, we’ll be OK.”