Earlier this fall, like any good college father, Clay Helton rushed out of work to attend his son’s USC freshman orientation.
He showed up still wearing his football coaching attire, and his wife, Angela, was aghast.
“Babe, this is orientation, you’re a Dad, you’re not supposed to be the head coach,” she said.
“Don’t worry,” Helton responded. “Nobody is going to recognize us anyway.”
Nobody did. Nobody does. The biggest secret about the resurgence of the most glittering group in college football is that it was engineered by a guy whom you still couldn’t pick out of a sideline.