Hugh Freeze starts Thursday's team meeting like he does every team meeting: three claps!

CLAP, CLAP, CLAP echoes from the entire room in the Gaylord Opryland Hotel. The Auburn head coach then starts to speak about all the voices that distract his players, his coaching staff and, yes, himself. He knows that in this day and age of college football, the amount of influencers trying to pull players in every possible way is daunting. It makes becoming a team – a real team – more complex than in the past.

"Don't let these days go by," Freeze says. He mentions that if they don't form relationships with the guys they are playing beside, they won't be at each other's weddings, godparents to their kids and, grimly, won't be there to carry their casket to the grave.

"Keep your eyes off the storm and let it drive you to seek relationships."

It's all part of a larger message of following God's voice and ignoring distractions. To make the point with even more clarity, Freeze plays an eight-minute video that he often returns to when he's struggling. With the lights down and the projector screen playing, a lawyer starts talking about a time he was in Alaska and a pilot talked him into returning to his hometown on his private plane.

That's when the story gets scary. The pilot can't fly through clouds, and when they reach said clouds, he passes out. He's passed out cold. So, with his life on the line along with one of his partners in the law firm, they start radioing air traffic control. When they finally reach someone, a man begins ordering them on the procedures they should take.

"Don't look at the danger ahead," the man says. "If you look at the danger, you will die."

Miraculously, a team of air traffic controllers talks the two men down, safely landing at an airport and saving their and the pilot's lives.

"Follow my voice," the man keeps saying. "Follow my voice."

The lights come up, and there aren't many dry eyes in the room. It was an emotional video for sure, and a message that Freeze wanted to reach his team.

"Now, let's have a great day of practice," Freeze bellows.

(Leading up to the Music City Bowl against Maryland, I was granted all access to Freeze, his staff and the football team for two days. Wherever they went, I went. I sat in meetings, attended practices, had meals, and attended events with the team. This is what happened during those 48 hours.)

While players are finishing breakfast in one of the massive ballrooms in the hotel, the Freeze family sits at a table discussing the holidays and, of course, the two granddaughters born this year. Hudson Blair Reynolds, the daughter of Freeze's oldest daughter, is getting picked up and down by John Miller, the team's general manager.

DJ McManus, born in November to Freeze's second daughter, sits happily in the arms of her grandmother, Jill. The girl has more hair than usual for a baby that age. As I promised both of them, I will babysit only when the girls are potty-trained. That was the same deal I had with my siblings, so I consider it fair.

I quickly move to another table where Jeremy Roberts, Senior Associate AD for Operations, is sitting along with Wesley McGriff, Jorrell Bostrom and a few other key members of the coaching staff. McGriff, per usual, is on the phone. Roberts, a personal friend, starts asking why I'm allowed in the room and if he should kick me out. It's all a joke, but I'm afraid some might think he is serious.

Breakfast serving is over, and now it's time for business. First up? Special teams.

Tanner Burns stands at the front of the room with an intense look, but first, he needs to know if the team wants to stay downtown after tonight's Wildhorse Saloon event or return to the hotel. The consensus is coming back, and I don't blame them. The place is enormous, with anything and everything you could possibly get into.

Then, the real business starts.

"Time to lock in," Burns states.

Showing practice film from when the team was back in Auburn, along with game tape from Maryland this season, Burns goes over kickoff and punt coverage.

"That was good, Sylvester (Smith)," he compliments the true freshman on his leverage and footwork.

And then, well, he highlights Tate Johnson, a reserve offensive lineman, for his ability to catch a punt before zooming in on the junior's stomach, which is just a bit flabby. The players laugh, but Johnson can take the joke. He will make up for it later that night.

"Who do we hand the ball to?" Burns asks.

"The ref," the room answers in unison.

"Who?"

"The ref."

Burns then goes over a few notes, such as not assuming a fair catch and that special teams need to play clean and eliminate the BS before warning them that Freeze will be looking for the team to be sluggish at practice that day.

"Fake it til you make it," he tells them.

The special teams meeting is over, and it's time for position meetings.

"Where were you last night?" Freeze asks me. "We had a meeting."

"I stayed in and watched the latest season of The Crown," I respond. "Plus, my access didn't start until today."

"You're either all in or all out," Freeze jokes. "What's The Crown?"

"It's about the British royal family."

This gets the coach on a short rant about me, which he has the tendency to do. He alerts Philip Montgomery that I root for the European team in the Ryder Cup, to which the offensive coordinator says, "Really?"

I explain my side. They are a more united team, and on a personal note, I will not root for the USA team until they do the right thing and have Fred Couples as captain. It only makes sense. Freeze is jokingly disgusted with my stance, but I remind him who won this past Ryder Cup, and he gets up and leaves.

It's time for Montgomery, Kent Austin (Special Assistant to the Head Coach) and Jesse Stone (Senior Analyst for Offense) to lead the quarterbacks through tape.

On the screen comes terminology that makes my head spin. Tire Off 3 Gat. Gray Open Show #s. Of course, it makes all the sense to everyone else in the room, but at the moment, I'm bewildered.

"That's a good throw, Payton," Montgomery said. "The receiver just ran the wrong route."

The offensive coordinator points out on an RPO play that two receivers are too close to each other on their routes, with the second one trailing the first too closely.

Every throw and route is shown three or four times, with Montgomery and Austin constantly asking where the protections should be. The amount of words that come in one play call and the language used are interesting. The whiteboards have the script for specific situations or drives, each printed nicely by analyst Logan Bradley.

Two trick plays, neither of which Auburn uses in the game, are discussed and displayed on the screen. These calls are short and much more straightforward, at least in my eyes.

Austin, who confirmed to me later that he was quieter than usual in the meeting, only spoke up at the end when he had a quick list of notes to review. From being in meetings with him when he was at Liberty, I noticed the difference.

Most of the attention and questions are aimed at starter Payton Thorne, but Holden Geriner and Hank Brown are quizzed occasionally. It seems unimportant at the moment, but little did I know what was to come on Saturday for the two backups.

After 40 minutes and repetition of numerous plays, the meeting ends. Thorne stands up, looks at the whiteboard, and questions Montgomery on a couple of plays, not in a "why would we call that?" kind of way, but to better grasp everything that goes on with that call.

With meetings over, it's time to board the buses and travel to Vanderbilt University to use the Commodores' practice facilities.

Since many people are still on holiday break, Nashville traffic is lighter than it usually would be on a weekday. That wouldn't be much of a problem anyway, as the seven buses are escorted by five police cars that block traffic to get the Tigers to practice as soon as possible.

I ride on the first bus with Freeze and some staff and they spend their time doing various things. Cadillac Williams is talking to someone on the phone. Montgomery closes his eyes and gets a few minutes of rest. Freeze alternates between staring ahead and answering texts on his phone. Within 15 minutes, we pull onto Natchez Trace and arrive at the John Rich Football Practice Complex. We all file out onto the outside field one by one.

It's a warmer day than usual for late December, but some players are still wrapped up in gear as if a blizzard is happening.

"I'm from Florida, bro," one says. "I don't like the cold."

The support staff had already arrived and were ready for practice to begin. First, Freeze and the captains (Thorne, Luke Deal, Kam Stutts and Elijah McAllister) meet with the horde of media waiting.

"Excited to see how they perform," Freeze says. "It's a really quality team we're playing. Coach Locksley has done a really nice job. I'm kind of anxious to see how we practice today. Hopefully, we will have good energy and good execution."

McAllister, practicing where his career started at Vanderbilt, talks about the strange feeling of returning to such a familiar place.

"It's been unique, just being back at a place where I started my first college game, and I'm back in this place to finish my career," he says. "It's been nice to be able to represent this university and this school. It feels good."

With that, practice begins. Since it's not a typical game week, Wednesday's practice is being treated like a Tuesday practice. This is the first time the players have been on the field since Christmas break, and if there is some rust to be shaken off, that goes away when head strength coach Dom Studzinski yells, "Run, don't walk."

The players get the message.

For the next two hours, the practice goes off with few hitches. As he has all season, Freeze spreads his time concentrating on the offense and the defense. Special teams only get a few sessions of work, while many reserves who will play a huge role in Saturday's game and next season get reps.

Talking to Kirk Sampson, Jeff Shearer and Shelly Poe, they say that I have to come to a community service event at either a soup kitchen or, in Poe's words, to "pick up needles at the local park." Thankfully, it was a joke.

Practice ends, and the team is greeted with chicken from a local hot chicken restaurant for the ride back to the hotel. I try one of Jeremy Roberts' chicken fingers and immediately consider it one of the best things I had eaten in 2023.

It's time to load the buses again, but instead, I take an Uber to my downtown hotel to write a story and get ready for the welcome event at the Wildhorse Saloon that evening.

Arriving at the bar early – okay, I thought they would be serving beer – I wait around with some bowl volunteers until Maryland arrives. The Terrapins enter the establishment with one of their fight songs blaring and quickly make their way to the food.

Fifteen minutes later, Auburn walks into the Wildhorse with "War Eagle" blasting on the sound system. The two teams are separated into two sides of the place, but that doesn't stop some familiar faces from both schools from catching up. Thorne, who faced the Terrapins twice during his stint at Michigan State, chats it up with some Maryland players while the rest of the Tigers chow down.

I'm sitting at the head coach's table with Freeze, his wife, Tucker LaGrone, Matt Bevins (Football Chief of Staff) and Mikel Riggs (Director of Football Operations). I will regret this decision later.

It's time for the big event that everyone is looking forward to and, let's be honest, is hyped about: the hot chicken eating competition. Since Auburn is the designated away team, the five entrants for the Tigers are introduced first.

This is not a simple introduction, either. No, this is full-on WWE-style intros with music and fun facts about each player taking part. The aforementioned Tate Johnson is taking this seriously. Luke Deal, Reed Hughes, Jeremiah Wright, and Kam Stutts are also in. The five players ham it up for the crowd, delighting Freeze and everyone else watching.

During Maryland's introduction, the players start a rhythmic clap, with one player arriving on the stage in sunglasses. Everyone is having a blast, which is what should be happening to celebrate making a bowl game and a long season of hard work. A bunch of hooting and hollering, along with some booing toward the other side, comes to an end as the contest gets close to beginning.

That silence doesn't last long.

The countdown ends, and the 10 players are inhaling chicken that would make many people, including myself, weep. Soon, both teams are nearing the stage, cheering on their teammates in a battle of internal fortitude. Stutts is struggling, but Hughes and Johnson are killing it for the Auburn side. Players from both teams are laughing and bonding over such a funny competition. It's thrilling to watch.

Maryland had no shot against the Auburn five. The final tally is Tigers 21 and Terrapins 15, with Hughes leading the way with an astounding seven. Johnson and his formidable stomach finished with six. I note that I wouldn't want to be their roommates that night.

Trophies are handed out to all five Tigers, while Hughes receives the championship belt. As I said, it was much like a WWE wrestling match but without the wrestling.

After the mess is cleaned up, the hosts announce that a magician will perform next. Here is an admission: I don't care for magicians. I never have, and I'm not sure why. Either way, I sat there with patience.

The man opens up by asking who went to a public school, a private school and who was home-schooled. This is when the entire table I'm sitting at decides it would be funny to point at me and try and get me up on stage. Freeze leads the effort to get me embarrassed, which, I'm confident, would be his delight. Thankfully, the attempt fails.

Instead of me, freshman offensive lineman Clay Wedin gets called to the stage. The magician performs a card trick that takes way too long before letting Wedin return to his seat. The next victim is a Maryland player who looks like he would rather be anywhere else but on that stage then.

Fortunately, Freeze motions to me that it is time to leave because there's a little get-together we have to go to just down the block.

December 27th happens to be Madison Freeze's, Hugh's youngest daughter's, birthday, and it is a big one: her 21st. With that in mind, LaGrone, whose father, Jake, is a music manager in Nashville, sets up a roped-off event at Jason Aldean's bar on Broadway.

After everyone arrives, we get escorted to the fifth floor of the bar, where a band is playing and drinks are served. All three daughters, plus friends and some of the coaching staff, are there.

Since it is a younger crowd and there is an afterparty at Ole Red, Freeze and I exit Aldean's and head across the street. Once again, we get escorted to a top floor where coaches from both staffs and their wives are enjoying their night. It's rare that someone in my position gets to see coaches winding down and not being the serious version of themselves, but it does help you get a feeling for who they are as people.

Jack Curtis, a defensive analyst who also served as co-defensive coordinator at Liberty under Freeze for two seasons, introduces himself. We start discussing the story of how the head coach and I became friends, to which Curtis admits to already knowing the whole thing.

"It's really awesome," he says. I concur.

A song comes on that Freeze enjoys, so he starts singing it to me. The man can do many things great, but singing might be low on that list. He's still having a good time, so I laugh.

Ron Roberts is insistent on getting the musician to let him sing a song. The defensive coordinator is apparently vocally talented, but it never comes to fruition. Instead, tight ends coach Ben Aigamaua's wife, Kendra, takes the stage and brings the house down with Carrie Underwood's "Before He Cheats."

By 10 p.m., most of the coaches had left, and it was just Jeremy Roberts, his wife, Robin, and me standing at the bar enjoying the free drinks. When in Rome, right?

I walk into the meeting room at the Gaylord with one question on my mind: How are the players who took part in the hot chicken contest feeling?

My question is immediately answered when Luke Deal quickly leaves the special teams meeting to run to the restroom. Tate Johnson isn't looking so fresh, either.

Burns goes over some kickoff duties, including a trick play that the Tigers will try to use on their first return on Saturday against the Terrapins. That meeting is followed by the big team meeting with Freeze's message and video. Now it is decision time for me: should I go to a defensive meeting of some sort or listen to what Cadillac says to the running back room?

I choose the latter.

Sitting in the third row on the right-hand side of the room, Jarquez Hunter is seated to my right, while Jeremiah Cobb and Damari Alston are front and center. From the beginning, I started seeing the same vocabulary again on the screen.

Gray Open Show #s. Tire Off 3 Gat.

"Run and read, don't read and run," Williams reminds his running backs.

Alston, fully aware of each play, calls out a mistake Williams makes, uttering, "That's not that play."

"Aww, man," Williams responds. "Good someone was paying attention."

After another police escort and short bus ride to the Commodores' facility, I quickly realize that wearing shorts was a mistake because it was much colder than the day before. I try to tough it out, but halfway through the hour and 15-minute practice, I have to go inside Vanderbilt's offices and warm up for a few.

Thursday's practice was more of a walk-through for the regular players, while many reserves and walk-ons had the pleasure of walking to Vanderbilt's indoor facility and practicing in the warmth. Seeing that Alex McPherson has some free time, I stroll over to the kicker and ask about his Christmas and his golf game. That is when he dropped this bomb on me.

"I hit my 3-wood 285 yards or so."

"What?" I ask in disbelief and, let's be honest again, jealousy.

"It's just like kicking."

It makes sense. He can definitely boom the ball. I walk away deflected, thinking of my driver that, at best, goes 250 yards.

The short practice session ends, and the meal today is Mission BBQ. Hey, lookie there, another extra box for me. How lucky!

I walk over to Freeze and ask if the day is done. Of course not, he says, but he doesn't know that I have a reservation at a highly recommended steakhouse in a couple of hours with one of our mutual friends.

"You have to come back and study the film with me," Freeze says.

Looking at my watch, I realize I won't have time to make that session. This, of course, starts another friendly rant in my direction.

"You're either all in or all out," Freeze says, repeating the same thing from the day before.

Thanks to Hugh Freeze, his entire staff, the Auburn sports information department and everyone else who made this story possible. It was a pleasure following the team, getting to know the players and coaches better and seeing all it takes to put together a complex operation required for a college football program.