The men gathered to tell Vic Prinzi stories

By Charlie Barnes, Executive Director - Seminole Boosters

Oh My.

That was Vic Prinzi's signature phrase, and he could shade the most wonderful inflections into those two words. Oh My would be colored perfectly to cover the range of emotion from despair over Wide Right, to the exhilaration of Warrick Dunn's 79-yard scoring run to seal the victory in Gainesville in '93.

It was raining and cold in Tallahassee on Monday morning, and much of the city was glad to sleep in because of the holiday, but a stream of us made our way to the airport in the morning dark. Prinzi's funeral was being held at 10 a.m. in Tampa.

The burgeoning crowd at St. Lawrence Church was as gray and overcast as the skies. Women in subdued dresses, men in dark coats, the only color was the flash here and there of garnet & gold ties. Coach Bowden was there, and Gene Deckerhoff, and Tom McEwen. One of the saddest faces belonged to Jimmy Dunn, the Florida quarterback who opposed Prinzi in the 1958 inaugural Seminole/Gator contest. They had stayed pals for 40 years.

And, of course, there was a special section set aside for Nugent's Boys, as they call themselves. Let me tell you about Nugent's Boys, the men who played for Coach Tom Nugent in the early, glory years of Seminole football in the mid-1950s, after the schedule shifted from Millsaps and Sewanee and Livingston State, to Georgia and Auburn and Miami.

It was Florida State's adolescence, when a coaching and recruiting genius named Nugent invented football's I-formation, and inspired hungry and ambitious young players to join him in his campaign against the giants of the college game.

They have stayed together all these years. Many are large, physically imposing men, greying and clear-eyed. There is a toughness evident in the way they carry themselves, and you know that if they had to, they could still play and give a good account of themselves. Might get beat but wouldn't ever give up.

I can imagine Bobby telling them that he needed them on the field, that we couldn't win the game unless they played. They'd all look at each other and smile, and then someone would say: "OK, let's have one more drink and then we'll suit up." And every man could be counted on to give his best.

They were all there to say goodbye to Vic. Coach Tom Nugent sat on the end of a row. His glossy alligator shoes and natty powder-blue Palm Beach blazer stood out sharply against the dark backdrop of the other mourners.

I didn't talk to him, but my guess is that at age 84 he's already buried most of his friends, and too many of his players, and he's probably said to hell with wearing a shroud. Perhaps he thinks: Life's short, and wonderful, and I'm going to wear bright colors and embrace every day.

Nugent is still ramrod straight with cloud-white hair and an electric smile. McEwen wrote that he looks closer to 48 than 84. A young local television reporter who didn't know Nugent put a camera in his face and asked: "What was it like to play on the same team as Vic Prinzi?"

Vic Prinzi was the Seminole quarterback who stood at a crossroads of FSU's storied football program. He led that 1958 team against perhaps FSU's most aggressive schedule ever, led the Seminoles in their first-ever game vs. Florida, and led them to what is regarded by many to be the most significant victory in Seminole History: the 10-0 shutout of Tennessee in Knoxville.

Deckerhoff's partner, Burt's buddy, and proud to call himself one of Nugent's Boys, Vic Prinzi was a living example of the wonderfully happy effects of a love affair between a man and a university.

Many years ago I interviewed him for an article about that Tennessee game. In their first dozen years of play, FSU had never beaten an SEC team. "That was our first big win, really. It vaulted us into the big time. We'd never been in the top 20 before, and after that game we were."

Prinzi told how a game-day article in the Knoxville paper provided considerable motivation for the young Seminoles. "They had a great tailback named Billy Majors who was brother to their All-American, Johnny Majors." Prinzi's backup quarterback was another Majors boy, Joe, who had forsaken Tennessee for FSU. "The Knoxville paper that day said: 'The fact is: Billy Majors is a first class player on a first class team, and Joe Majors is a second class player on a second class team.'"

FSU defensive end Tony Romeo sent Billy Majors out of the game with broken ribs in the first quarter. In the end, Tennessee managed just 61 yards total offense for the day.

It was 3-0 at the half. In the third quarter, Prinzi hit Tony Romeo at the two yard line, and Bobby Renn took it in for six. The score was 10-0, and that's the way it ended.

All of those fellows ­ Prinzi, Romeo, Renn ­ should still be here to tell stories about the game, to drink in the admiration of their fans, and share memories with the rest of Nugent's Boys. But they are all gone now.

Vic took a long drag on his cigarette and told me: "I love FSU. Florida State is my life...Without it I'd be back in Waverly, New York, working in a foundry. Florida State was my gateway to whatever success I have today...It is the love of my life."

Coach Bowden was right. He told the crowd of mourners that life is like a vapor. Snap your fingers ­ it's that quick. "Death is a reminder; we all have an appointment someday."

Too soon, too soon.

Oh My.