Originally Published: November 10, 2003

'Attaway

Frosty Westering has coached as if winning isn't everything. And he's won until the end.

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By Tim Keown
ESPN The Magazine
You really have to see this: 110 college football players, young American men between the ages of 18 and 22, supposedly in the full plumage of unrepentant cynicism, responding to a 75-year-old man in a pair of saggy, gray cotton shorts and a bright yellow sweater -- a man propping up two artificial hips with a hospital-issue metal cane -- as if he is the coolest living being on God's green earth. They lean toward him as he stands before them, the distinct smell of pregame anticipation and football sweat hanging in the locker room like smoke. Just as you think he's going to start barking coachspeak about the opposition's tendencies or the vital need for downfield blocks or the life-and-death importance of stuffing gaps, he raises a congenial fist and hollers in a sing-song baritone: "Hey Lutes."

Instantly, 110 voices follow: "HEY LUTES!"

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