Rising Tide: How Coastal Carolina is building a powerhouse

College football is a cutthroat monopoly but, as we learn at Go Long, there is a team in the Sun Belt completely changing the game. Here's the inside story.

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The truth won’t be shouted at the top of any draft broadcast next week, no.

It’s bad business to say the quiet part out loud, but it’s also a fact: College football is a monopoly.

Despite a new playoff system, despite 130 schools competing in 10 conferences across the FBS, there’s no drama. We all know who’s competing for a national championship before any season even begins.

It’s Alabama. It’s Clemson. It’s LSU if Joe Burrow falls in their lap. Any school from a non-Power 5 conference really has no shot at national prominence… especially in the south. Down here, practice facilities resemble religious temples. Down here, writing checks is a recreational activity for boosters. Down here, the SEC inks a $3 billion — that’s billion, with a “B” — television contract with ESPN. The best talent goes to the same schools year after year and, man, the game sure feels rigged for everybody else. Nick Saban and Dabo Swinney essentially plant those little red hotels along entire sides of this Monopoly board.

But wait.

Maybe there’s no need to pick up that thimble and chuck it against the wall. Maybe there is a path.

Midway through a conversation with Go Long, one head coach facing this daily recruiting battle — Coastal Carolina’s Jamey Chadwell — details a road to relevancy that should give any school in any conference hope. While it’s true the south is overflowing with ludicrous talent and all of those receivers with the 4.3 speed and quarterbacks who’ve attended 7-on-7 camps since the third trimester go to the same schools every year, finding individuals who sincerely love the sport is an entirely different conversation.

Because here’s another cold truth: Not everyone who plays football is wired that way. Many play simply because they’re good at it. Many are no different than your buddy Frank in accounting, punching in and punching out and can you blame ‘em? This job asks you to smash into other human beings for a living. Fans would be shocked to learn how rare such a real love for the sport is.

As Chadwell explains, football is just different than other sports. You’re training more than you actually play.  

“If you look at soccer, if you look at baseball, there’s tons of games all the time,” Chadwell says. “Don’t get me wrong: They train for it. But their training is playing pickup games. That’s easy. You can’t play pickup football. You’ve got to put the pads on and do that. And that’s a challenge. Through the hottest part of the time, the summer. But that’s what makes it so special: the commitment and the sacrifice it actually takes to become a really good player.

“That’s why the bond is so strong, because you have to go through so much pain and so much sacrifice to reach a goal.”

And Chadwell is always on the hunt for this intangible, this genuine love.

Whenever the head coach sits down with a recruit, he inevitably asks one question: Why do you play football? If that answer is anything in the realm of “I’m good at it,” that’s a red flag. But if that recruit points to the physicality of the game or that bond with teammates or any of the nitty and gritty the sport demands, he starts to believe. Then, he’ll inevitably ask another question: What kind of adversity have you been through? And how did you respond to it?

Because Chadwell also knows that everyone is going to face adversity in football.

An injury. A benching. A fourth down with the season on the line. It’s coming.

“I always want to hear how they got through adversity,” Chadwell says. “If they went through ‘this’ and they can explain it to me, I think that’s a positive. If they never went through any, for me, that always perks my ears up because does that mean it’s been easy for them? Or have they just lived a charmed life? Because all of us have been through something.”

The result is the most improbable program in college football, a budding powerhouse built from scratch.

In 2017, Coastal Carolina elevated from FCS to FBS. And instead of toiling in the doldrums of the Sun Belt for a decade, the Chanticleers became America’s darlings by 2020. With zero shot at the fastest, strongest, most athletic recruits in the nation, they climbed to No. 9 in the AP rankings — ahead of programs like Florida and Georgia — and finished at No. 14 with an 11-1 record. Into 2021, they can let playoff dreams dance in their heads. Beyond, they’ve got a shot to grow into football’s version of Gonzaga.

Next week, you’ll see a few Chanticleers head to the NFL and — years from now — we may credit players like CJ Marable and Tarron Jackson for leading the first wave that changed everything we thought about college football.

Marable, a running back, was abandoned by his first college choice before becoming the heartbeat of the Chants’ offense. Jackson, an edge rusher, quit the sport at nine years old when his brother died.

More NFL prospects are coming, too.

Coastal Carolina is changing the game.

Here’s how.

The Build

Any coach taking over any program knows he has to institute a boot camp of sorts, a training regimen that’ll shed the fat off his roster. In leaping to FBS, this was Step No. 1 for Chadwell who first arrived at Coastal Carolina in ‘17 as offensive coordinator, took over as the interim coach when the head coach went on medical leave, returned to OC in ’18 and was named the head man himself in ‘19.

All along, Chadwell knew they absolutely needed to weed out those who didn’t love football.

Jackson remembers players dropping like flies, too.

Coastal ramped up its conditioning to a completely new level with what he describes as a three-strike system of sorts. Miss a meeting? A class? Talk back to a professor? Do anything wrong? Typically, Chadwell talked to guys first. And if it happened a second time, the entire team paid the price with a “punishment run.”

“The guys who weren’t 100 percent bought in, you started to see it,” Jackson says. “You saw the guys who didn’t really care as much. That’s how he weeded those guys out.”

The third strike? That player would either transfer or be dismissed.

Attrition was needed but attrition took a toll. There was some simple mathematics to consider, too. FCS to FBS, the amount of scholarship players at your disposal jumps from 63 to 85. That may sound fine ‘n dandy in theory but between losing 20 seniors and weeding out the weak, hitting 85 was a challenge. Looking back, Chadwell remembers offensive linemen being the toughest to find. As it turns out, there aren’t many 300-pounders who can move roaming the earth.

Indeed, the Chants went from being the “top dog” in FCS, Chadwell says, to “the very bottom” in FBS. Chadwell might’ve had a few recruiting inroads as the head coach at Charleston Southern in the FCS but… not really. He admits the type of player you recruit is totally different. You’re not battling ACC and SEC schools for kids as an FCS coach. But in FBS? There’s a reason you rarely ever hear a peep from any school in the Sun Belt. They are often left scavenging for two-star scraps and transfer outcasts.

Chadwell could sell the location. Myrtle Beach, S.C. sure isn’t a bad place to live for four years.

Chadwell could sell the academics, too. Coastal has a strong reputation.

But there was, quite literally, no football tradition to lean into.

“No matter how good we were at FCS, none of the kids cared about that,” Chadwell says. “They want to know what you’re doing now and how you can get me where you want to go (the NFL). And for us, we just had to identify players who had a vision for themselves, too, who might’ve been under-recruited, who might not have the size or strength but we felt like had the intangibles to be part of this program and help us build it. Sometimes, kids want ready-made stuff. They want all the bells and whistles. There’s nothing wrong with that. Everybody’s going after the prettiest girl, right? But sometimes, that’s not the best one for you. So, it’s really identifying players who had the characteristics we were looking for that could see through the things we didn’t have. And maybe overcome the tradition we didn’t have but say, ‘Hey, I want to be part of building that.’”

So, that was his niche: Chadwell had to sell something that wasn’t happening in that moment but “was going to happen.” To get there, he wanted Coastal Carolina built on four core values: competition, discipline, accountability and passion.

Make no mistake. He’d love that 4.3 speed.

He’s also a realist.

“I know ideally if our team’s recruiting somebody,” Chadwell says, “and School X is recruiting somebody, he’ll probably go to School X because School X is a Power 5 school with more tradition right now. So, we really need to find that niche of guys who really want to be here. They’ve got to see the value that we bring to them.

“You’ve got to find somebody who really loves to play the sport of football. I mean, loves it, loves it, loves it.”

Which is why Coastal Carolina spends so much time figuring out what makes players tick.

Chadwell found that player. Repeatedly. Those players describe a perfect balance, too.

Strength coach Chad Scott pushes them. Hard. Players could go on for days — 60-yard shuttles, 100s, 200s, stadium runs. Scott, they assure, is constantly throwing them in adverse situations. Yet Scott also blends in the kind of fun you won’t find anywhere else. Themed workouts are the norm. On the Fourth of July, you’ll see guys decked out in American Flag shorts. On Halloween, players hit the squat rack in full Spiderman and Batman costumes. Scott does something for spring break, too. Marable was sure to rock shades, swim trunks, flip-flops and no shirt that day.

Every idea is always a massive hit with Scott doling out “best dressed” awards.

No, Marable cannot imagine Saban allowing such riffraff in Tuscaloosa.

“I think we’re the only team in the country doing that,” the back says.

Once the season begins, the fun only ramps up.

Each week, Chadwell establishes a specific theme to stick in the forefront of players’ minds. He labeled the week of the Chants’ game vs. Georgia Southern, for example, “Submission Week.” Georgia Southern was known for being physical so Coastal Carolina wanted to make them tap out. And after the 28-14 win, a mini WrestleMania broke out. Inside the locker room, members of the strength staff impersonated pro wrestlers. One (Adrien Dunn) was in spandex. One (Scott) was in a bald cap and cut-off shirt dressed up as “Stone Cold” Steve Austin. And together, they beat up a pseudo Georgia Southern Eagle “mascot” who just so happened to be the director of player personnel (Colton Korn).

There was a “Stone Cold Stunner” and, for the knockout blow, Scott leapt from above to smash the Eagle into a table.

Players went berserk.

Bonds are real here. During summer training, Scott has everyone over once a week for a cookout. Marable became especially close with his position coach whose mother would whip up succulent southern cooking: macaroni, fried chicken, baked chicken, ribs, baked beans blended with ground turkey and, hands down, “the best collard greens ever.” Jackson would talk to Scott about life all the time and says, also, that his position coach became “a second pops” to him.

All of this may seem cheesy but players insist it all translates to the field.

“If I know my coach really cares about me, I’m going to go run through a brick wall,” Marable says. “If I know he cares about me — or if I know what this player went through in his life to get here — I’m going to give him my all and run through a brick wall for him.”

Adds Jackson: “They’re so family-oriented. They do stuff the right way and that’s why I know they’ll be successful.”

To Chadwell, coaches can either motivate out of “fear” or “love.” He’s been around both types of coaches himself and seen both work.

Here, he’s striking the perfect balance.  

“If you build strong relationships with people and they genuinely know, ‘This guy cares for me off the field,’” Chadwell says, “then that creates a strong bond and a chemistry with your team. If you have that, maybe you’re not as talented as other people but the culture’s so strong you win some games you shouldn’t. … Our players know that, ‘Hey, I am loved not because I’m fast or tall.’ A lot of young people have been so good at football they get a pass because they’re good. They’ve never been held accountable.

“I think if you love someone, you hold them accountable. I believe that. That’s what we try to do and I think our players recognize that and they know their experience here is going to be appreciated.

“Then maybe you can overcome your physical deficiencies because you’re playing for a common purpose.”

There’s also this: These players have faced adversity.


CJ Marable did not always want to blast through that brick wall, no, CJ Marable couldn’t trust any coach after seeing his football career nearly go up in flames.

From afar, it’d seem like this running back’s rise is cut and dry. The two-star recruit didn’t qualify out of high school, so he sat out a year, attended Presbyterian College, then transferred to Coastal Carolina.

This hardly tells the story, though.

At Towers (Ga.) H.S, just outside of Atlanta, Marable ran for 1,323 yards and 11 touchdowns and originally committed to Arkansas State. The way he tells it, the school told him he qualified and did not need to take the ACT again. He had a 3.3 GPA and a 16 on the ACT so, per the NCAA’s sliding scale, he believed he was good to go. Signing Day arrived and in came a phone call from the school’s assistant head coach, Trooper Taylor.

Apparently, he did not qualify. Taylor said he’d need to “blueshirt.” That is, he’d need to miss that entire fall semester and improve his ACT score.

After telling everyone his entire senior year that he was Arkansas State-bound, Marable didn’t want to switch gears at the last second.

“It’s Signing Day, so I didn’t want to be embarrassed,” Marable says. “Everybody thinks I’m going to Arkansas State. So he put me in a position where, do I still want to go to Arkansas State? Or keep moving forward and part ways?”

Marable told Taylor he was still in, hired a tutor on Craigslist and studied harder than he ever had. That next crack at the ACT, he scored a 21 and says Arkansas State even announced his signing on its website. Then, something weird happened. From September… to October… to November … to December… he heard nothing. Absolutely nothing. Marable estimates that he called and/or texted the school “five times a day” over this period and didn’t get one damn response.

Everyone from head coach Blake Anderson to Taylor to administrators was MIA.

Marable was heartbroken. This is the same kid who’d walk an hour to youth football practice, in full pads, with his Mom growing up. Mom didn’t have a car then so if they missed the bus? Off they’d go. Together. He wanted nothing more than to give back to her but, instead, was now stuck at home with no clue what was going on.

“This was a dream of mine,” Marable says. “I’m at the house and my Mom is asking, ‘What’s going on? Why aren’t you at school?’ So, I’m calling them. It’s a dream. I’m committed to them. I signed with them. It was a dream to go to college. Where I’m from, people don’t go to school, people don’t go to college to play football and do great things on the field.

“This was a big deal to me so I’m calling them 24/7.”

Funny, isn’t it? College coaches often preach about sacrifice, often use variations of Chadwell’s verbiage only to conduct themselves like this.

Marable told himself that everything happens for a reason and — finally — informed Taylor in December that he wanted to be released from his NIL (National Letter of Intent). And, voila. This message did illicit a response. Taylor said the proper paperwork would be sent over in the morning and, suddenly, Marable was a football player without a home.

After originally planning to go the JUCO route, Marable chose Presbyterian because of the school’s head coach, Tommy Spangler. Back in high school, Spangler was recruiting a defensive end on his team so they knew each other. The fit was perfect. In his collegiate debut, Marable had 162 yards vs. Wake Forest and never looked back.

Then, more adversity.

Rumors swirling throughout that season turned out to be true with Presbyterian eliminating all football scholarships. Marable can still remember Spangler, in tears, delivering the news.

With three years of eligibility left, Marable transferred to Coastal. Those palm trees all over campus certainly helped. As did an elaborate Power Point presentation. The Chanticleers’ coaches made it clear that Marable would be the focal point of their offense, showing him all schemes, all formations, all creative ways he’d be unleashed. Schools like Alabama and Clemson aren’t going this extra mile. Their brand speaks for itself.

Coastal must dig deeper, so Coastal does.

And the No. 1 reason Marable headed to Myrtle Beach? He’d get a chance at sweet, sweet revenge against Arkansas State in the Sun Belt. In ’18, he lost. In ’19, he lost again but rushed for 142 yards and a TD. Then, in ’20, his 88 total yards and two TDs fueled a blowout win. He says he doesn’t hold a grudge. Anderson even apologized to him.

But this sure felt good and, in retrospect, he’s glad Arkansas State ignored him.

“I could’ve been in a situation where it could’ve been worse,” Marable says, “and I could’ve been messed up. I’m glad it happened early.”

Marable had 3,394 total yards with 41 touchdowns in three years at Coastal. On to the NFL, his confidence is soaring. He calls himself the most versatile back in the draft and says he has talked to the Rams, Falcons, Bears, Browns, Packers and Broncos. He likes Denver’s situation the most. Damn right, he sees himself competing for a role instantly with Phillip Lindsay off to the Texans.

If he’s undrafted, he’ll get to pick his destination, too.

Marable knows that all he needs is a shot.

Then, finally, he’ll repay his Mom.

Says Marable: “I can’t even imagine how good of a feeling that is.”


Those final 50 days, Tarron Jackson stayed right at his 12-year-old brother’s side. As the leukemia painfully drained the life out of Daron, in 2008, he knew he needed to savor every last second.

Tarron was only nine himself. His elementary school granted a leave of absence.

“Watching him, day to day, fade off more and more,” Jackson says, “I feel like it takes something out of you. I tried to use it for the best, to better me. Because I know one thing about him — even though he went through all that pain — he never complained. I tried to take his style and include it in my life.

“He had a smile on his face every day.”

No smile was bigger than the day the Jacksons all headed to Disney through the Make-A-Wish Foundation. Seeing the joy that trip brought Daron is the reason Tarron wants to get involved with the charity one day.

And finally, Daron passed away.

Adversity? You bet Tarron Jackson has lived it.

Football always connected the two brothers. So once Daron died, he quit. He was finished. The pain cut too deep. Over time, however, he kept thinking about the one promise he made Daron. Tarron told his big brother that he’d be in the NFL one day. So eventually, by his sophomore year of high school, Tarron picked football back up and fell right back into love.

That pure joy for the sport returned, the same joy Coastal’s always looking for in recruits.

Says Jackson: “I felt like we were out there in the field with no shoes on. It kept building from there. Football was what we loved to do. I promised him I was going to go to the NFL before he passed. So I’m trying to live out that promise.

“I can’t go back on my word.”

Somehow, he found a way to wake up each morning. To move on. When he wasn’t playing football, Jackson busted his ass with Dad — landscaping, cement, construction, everything. Jackson still loves telling one story. No matter how freakin’ hard he tried swinging the hammer on one bathroom floor, it wouldn’t crack. Dad stepped in, looked at each side, ran the numbers in his head and hit the perfect spot at the perfect speed to crack the floor beautifully. (That day, Tarron learned why it’s important to be detailed in everything he does. He’d major in mathematics at Coastal, too.)

Life didn’t get easier. After he lost his brother, Jackson lost a grandmother. Then, an uncle to a heart attack. Then, another uncle to a heart attack right before last season.  

Everything made him the player he is today. Tarron wore No. 9 in college to honor Daron, to remember that moment at nine years old and finished as the school’s all-time sacks leader. Double-teamed most of his senior year, he still finished with 54 tackles (14 for loss), 8.5 sacks, 18 QB hurries and three forced fumbles.

Whenever the Chants needed a momentum swing, he supplied it.

“I really am relentless on the field,” Jackson says. “Every play, I’m giving 100 percent. I’m going the extra mile trying to get the ball out. Pass rushing, trying to come up with a great plan to get as many sacks as possible to help the team. I feel like it’s that foundation I built when I was young — of work — that’s helped me get to this point.”

And as motivated as he is, Jackson knows he’s not alone.

He came to the school in ‘17, when he was a 0-star recruit, and saw Chadwell meticulously build firsthand.

“They find the guys who are hungry, man, Jackson says. “We’ve got so many guys on the team who have that same drive as me and I feel like that’s why we’re so close-knit.”

— Guys like the other edge rusher, Jeffrey Gunter. He’ll be heading to the NFL in 2022 and he, too, took a circuitous path to Coastal. One of Chadwell’s first recruits, Gunter transferred to NC State in ‘19 and transferred back to Coastal in ‘20 to have 6.5 sacks and six forced fumbles himself. The reason for leaving? His mother was going through an ugly divorce and couldn’t take care of the kids by herself in Durham, N.C.

So, Gunter moved as close to home as he could for a year to help out.

No doubt, Mom is his motivation. Gunter vividly remembers her working the night shift as a nurse from 7 p.m. to 7 a.m., coming home to cook him breakfast and then taking him to school.

“Everything I do on the field,” Gunter says, “is for her.”

— Guys like Trey Carter. That’s the name that comes up constantly. The guard is described as the spirit of this team, the hardest worker everyone’s seen. He isn’t big, but he is nasty. And he makes a very distinguishable grunting sound when he blocks, one Marable tries imitating here.

“I’m running the ball,” Marable says, “and I can literally hear him!”

— Guys like quarterback Grayson McCall and linebacker Teddy Gallagher and defensive tackle CJ Brewer and so many others.

Even through a 5-7 season in 2019, everyone could tell something special was brewing.

Five of those losses were by a combined 24 points and Chadwell knew then that a tad more discipline here and a touch more accountability there could’ve flipped those games. In 2020, he was proven right. The Chanticleers started with a 38-23 win over Kansas and never looked back. The team’s margin for error in the eyes of the Top 25 voters was microscopic and Chadwell told his team as much.

After knocking off the 21st-ranked Louisiana Ragin’ Cajuns, the head coach reminded everyone that if they lose once, they’re done. They’d never be ranked again.

But there was one way to stay in the spotlight, Chadwell told them: “Keep winning.”

So, they did. And as if sent from the football heavens, undefeated Coastal Carolina scored a home game against undefeated BYU and future No. 2 overall pick, Zach Wilson on Dec. 5. One cancellation led to an impromptu showdown in front of the entire country.

ESPN’s College GameDay was coming to town.

All week, BYU-Coastal was touted as the Game of the Year.

Hype built. And built. And Chadwell fully grasped the magnitude of the moment. The night before, he stood in front of the entire team and played a video on the big screen above.

What happened next still gives players chills.

Breaking through

Every red-blooded American football coach tries to stir up Us Against The World energy, tries to make their players feel like underdogs.

But this was real.

This was a program picked to finish last in the Sun Belt now given no shot vs. BYU. Right there on the screen, Gunter recalls, were ESPN analysts blasting the Chants.

“Guys saying, ‘Oh, the BYU guys, they go on mission trips. They’re grown men. They’re going to absolutely obliterate Coastal Carolina. Their O-Line is small. They’re a bunch of reject guys,’” Gunter says. “I know me, personally, I took offense to it. It made me extremely motivated for that game. I can speak for the rest of the team: We were out to prove something that game.”

Typically this room is full of hootin’ and hollerin’ and laughs, but not this night. After Chadwell showed the team this series of clips, you could hear a pin drop.

They’d make BYU remember Coastal.

“You could see it in the way we played,” Gunter says. “We wanted it more.”

Which is, of course, the understatement of the season. Coastal Carolina physically bludgeoned BYU through a 22-17 win. All year, Wilson lit up every defense he played, but not this night. Not with Coastal batting him around like a piñata. When his final completion fell one yard short, black jerseys stormed the field to celebrate. And if not for a global pandemic, the students in attendance would’ve certainly stormed the field with them, too.

On offense, Chadwell played keepaway with 54 rushing attempts and 15 passes. Marable was phenomenal. His 132 yards on 23 attempts allowed Coastal Carolina to dominate the time of possession, 37:51 to 22:09.

The line bullied BYU’s behemoths up front, too. As Marable puts, the Chanticleers moved this D-Line around “like they were little kids.” The defense? Wilson probably still has bruises. Everyone on this side of the ball was sick of hearing Zach Wilson this, Zach Wilson that and wanted to make him pay. Gunter was criticized heavily for going WWE on Wilson at the end of the first half — his body-slam led to both sidelines spilling onto the field.

While Gunter says he never meant to hurt the QB, he assures the goal all night was to fluster Wilson.

And fluster Wilson they did.

Adds Jackson: “I feel like everybody went in there amped up ready to show — not the world — but ourselves that we could do it. We came in there and said, ‘Whatever happens, man, they’re going to get Coastal Football.’ They’re going to get relentless play from whistle to whistle. They’re going to see what we’re really about. We know what we’re about, man. In the Sun Belt, people were doubting us and we just kept building.

“Now, I feel like they have something special for some years to come.”

That night, Chadwell saw everything he had preached come to life and the timing was perfect for a nation stifled by quarantines.

Fun was needed and this team was a hell of a lot of fun.

“If you watched that game, if you weren’t a fan, you’d say, ‘Man, that team plays hard. They lay it on the line for each other,’” Chadwell says. “That’s what passion is. Guys played hard for a purpose. You’ve got to play hard for more than winning. Winning’s not enough. Don’t get me wrong. Winning’s awesome. But I think when you’re playing for something bigger than that, you lay it on the line.

“What it did was bring some joy during a down time. Whether you were a fan of us or not, you could watch football. Usually, it was a pretty good game, there was excitement, it was unique and everybody was laying it on the line. I think we garnered a lot of fans out of our region that didn’t know a lot about us to say, ‘Man, those Chanticleers, I love watching them play.’”

Chadwell thought Coastal did enough to earn a New Year’s bowl game but the committee instead gave Cincinnati a Peach Bowl bid. After losing a 37-34 overtime thriller to Liberty in the Cure Bowl, the Chanticleers finished 11-1.

Whatever. Players aren’t shy.

They believed they could’ve taken it to ‘Bama, to Clemson, to anyone in January. (“I’m putting my money on us,” Marable says.)

Now, Coastal Carolina has a realistic shot to keep momentum building. A herd of key starters return and no team on the schedule looks intimidating anymore. Of course, even Chadwell admits his team is no longer the plucky, disrespected underdog. Every single opponent will have Coastal circled on their calendar. The head coach insists the Chants will need to play with “an edge” in 2021.

Still, as Gunter explains, the long-term possibilities are endless.

“We just have to get people to buy into the movement,” Gunter says. “I know Alabama and Clemson are the big dogs and we’re the little guy coming up but I think it’s the culture. As long as guys keep sticking to the culture — and we keep finding those diamonds in the rough — I think Coastal will be around for a really, really long time.”

Win and win and win and they could change that game of Monopoly forever.

Chadwell exudes similar Bring-on-Bama energy, but he’s also no dummy. Per custom, the Power 5 team pays the non-Power 5 team a large sum of money to get them on their schedule. You may recall Michigan paying Appalachian State $400,000 to lose at the Big House.

Sure, Chadwell will play in Tuscaloosa. Under one condition.

“If the check’s high enough.”

He smiles.

Life is good on the coast.

Share Go Long with Tyler Dunne

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