Love you, proud of you: A week inside Will Healy’s Charlotte 49ers football program

No tears. Not even sadness. Just silence.

Minutes removed from their once-in-a-lifetime play on college football’s biggest stage, all the Charlotte 49ers could feel was shock.

Vegas placed them as 42-point underdogs that night at No. 1 Clemson. They lost 52-10. As the players, who were certain they’re better than the scoreboard showed, sat quietly in the visitor’s locker room at Memorial Stadium, they focused on 34-year-old first-year head coach Will Healy, his hair tousled from being beneath a baseball cap all night. He reminded them why this was their fate that night.

Everything they’d worked on all week seemed to be forgotten under the majesty of “Death Valley.” Instead of stunning all of college football — or even providing a few encouraging highlights for the late edition of “SportsCenter” — they showed that for a night, the oddsmakers were right.

But before players get too down on themselves, Healy quickly pivots to the positive.

“Here’s the great part about it,” he says. “If you go back and watch the film of us playing the No. 1 team in the country, you’re going to see a bunch of plays that you left out that could have been a lot better, and we could have had a lot more success. Did we make some plays? Hell, yes! Did we play hard to the final whistle? Hell, yes, and I’m very proud of that.”

Charlotte and Clemson represent college football’s two extremes.

The 49ers’ program is 7 years old with an all-time record of 24-50 and has never had a winning record. Becoming bowl eligible would be considered a success.

The Tigers are the defending national champions with three titles to their name. Missing this year’s College Football Playoff would be seen as a failure.

But that loss Sept. 21 and the $1 million paycheck that came with it showed Charlotte that if it ever wants to be the team at the top, there’s clearly a long way to go. The Observer spent a week behind the scenes with Healy and the 49ers to learn what this journey looks like.

Sunday soccer

Healy wheeled a golf cart away from the 49ers’ Rose Football Center.

It’s the day after the 49ers polished off Massachusetts 52-17 for their second win of the season, and Healy postponed a regular Sunday staff meeting for about an hour to watch Charlotte’s nationally ranked men’s soccer team play Kentucky.

Yes, Healy is starting a week of preparing to play Clemson in what will be the most significant game in 49ers program history by going to a soccer game.

“Gotta support ‘em,” he said.

Another golf cart, this one filled with members of Healy’s staff, follows. It’s slower and doesn’t make it up hills as fast as Healy’s, something of which he is only too happy to remind those occupants.

Once inside Transamerica Field, Healy shakes hands and accepts congratulations from fans for the victory against UMass, which raised Charlotte’s record to 2-1.

Looking down at the soccer match, Healy jokes that it’s not quite the same game from when he played as a youngster growing up in Chattanooga, Tennessee. Someone tells him he should watch from the sidelines, where he’d be surprised at the speed and physicality of the college game.

Healy ponders that.

“I need to go watch them practice,” he says.

In Healy, 34, the 49ers have a charismatic coach who was hired last December to inject life into a program that struggles to fill its 15,314-seat stadium, the smallest in the NCAA’s Football Bowl Subdivision.

The Clemson week is a test of Healy’s ability to get his team ready for a top-flight opponent, while at the same time juggling his myriad other commitments and responsibilities — the importance of which are magnified by the opponent.

But Healy will make sure what goes into this week doesn’t stray from what’s routine. He stresses a family-friendly environment for his staff and high-energy, positive practices for the team. None of that will change simply because of this week’s opponent.

Football a family affair for 49ers

After the soccer game, Healy leads a staff meeting that is completely focused on UMass and the week’s upcoming practices. The coaches break down film and go over injuries. Healy says he wants to make sure certain players aren’t overly exerted during practice and talks about maybe dialing things down later in the week.

“We don’t want to be worn down even before Saturday gets here,” he says.

The meeting draws to a close. Not once has the word “Clemson” been uttered.

Healy tells his staff he appreciates what they’ve done. He’s pleased with the team’s 2-1 start. He ends the meeting with these words:

“Love you. Proud of you.”

Outside in the hallway, the rumbling of small feet can be heard. Eddie V and Jayvion, the young sons of cornerbacks coach Eddie Hicks, come racing by. It’s time for family night.

Each Sunday, the families of the 49ers’ coaching staff gather for dinner. It’s a tradition Healy started during his three-year stint at Austin Peay, when he turned around a Governors program that had lost 45 of 46 games in its four previous seasons.

This Sunday, coaches and their wives are eating chicken wings while the kids throw a football on a veranda overlooking the Richardson Stadium end zone. The atmosphere is relaxed as if it’s a family reunion, which is exactly what Healy is looking for.

“We get some time to spend together,” says Natasha Cooper, wife of co-defensive coordinator Brandon Cooper. “The kids get to play, and I get to talk to my sister-wives.”

Later in the week, on Wednesday, there will be a “Date Night,” when they all gather at a local restaurant. No kids, though, and Healy will pay for the babysitters.

The wives and kids leave after about an hour. Most coaches return to their offices to watch more film. But Healy again boards the golf cart, this time to meet with the Sigma Alpha Epsilon fraternity on the other side of campus. Just as much as it is to win football games, his job is to generate interest in his program, and talking with students is part of it.

More than 5,000 students had filled several sections for Charlotte’s sold-out season opener two weeks prior against Gardner-Webb. That number dropped to 2,715 for the UMass game, which drew 12,812 fans.

Healy asks how many of the fraternity brothers attended the UMass game. Maybe 15 of the 40 raise their hands. Healy talks about how important it is for students to come out and support the team, which is representing UNC Charlotte on college football’s highest level. But what irked Healy the most wasn’t that most of the SAEs didn’t show up for his latest game; it was their attire. Two students are wearing T-shirts with the names of other schools on the front. One of them, coincidentally, is Healy’s alma mater Richmond.

“How can you walk around campus with another school’s shirt on?” Healy says. “Come by my office any time, and I’ll make sure you get something with UNC Charlotte on it.”

On the golf cart going back to the field house, Healy shakes his head.

“That’s the first time I’ve ever had to rip somebody’s ass at a fraternity meeting.”

Tough love from detail-oriented assistants

When the 49ers offense gathers at 8 a.m. the next day, coordinator Alex Atkins is ready to play critique roulette during film review.

Atkins, a former all-conference guard at Tennessee-Martin who was the assistant head coach at Tulane in 2018, was up late Saturday night watching film of Charlotte’s victory against UMass and spent most of Sunday doing the same thing.

“We got to do better than this, man,” Atkins said to a lineman who missed a block. “That ain’t good. We’ve been working on this (expletive) too long. You can’t keep (expletive) this up. Get better.”

He jokes with junior receiver Tyler Ringwood and sophomore running back Ishod Finger, both of whom scored their first career touchdowns against the Minutemen.

This program stresses the importance of celebrating big moments. But after his touchdown, Ringwood simply stands in the end zone waiting for his teammates to congratulate him.

“I got a lot of newbies in here, don’t I?” Atkins says. “That’s why (Ringwood) doesn’t have a celebration. He’s like, ‘I’m here! What do I do with my hands?’

“It’s hard to score! It’s hard to get in the end zone! Ask Dylan Ratliff!”

Ratliff is Charlotte’s fourth-string quarterback who appeared to score a touchdown against UMass, only to have it nullified by a penalty. Atkins knows what the significance of what that touchdown would have been for Ratliff, whose late father, Phil Ratliff, was a popular former 49ers offensive line coach and recruiting coordinator who died unexpectedly in 2015.

When Atkins finishes, players split up for position meetings. Quarterbacks start with position coach Mark Carney giving starter Chris Reynolds, backup Brett Kean and freshmen Ratliff and Willie Taylor an update on Evan Shirreffs, the team’s third-stringer who broke his shoulder against UMass and will be out indefinitely.

“We’re thinking about Evan, he’s in a lot of pain right now, and we want to keep him involved,” said Carney, who then looks at Ratliff.

“Dylan, that means increased reps for you. You’ve got to step your prep level up and be ready to be number three. It was good to see you in there, man. It’s always fun to get multiple guys in the game.”

Carney, 39, is among Healy’s older assistants (only special teams coach Max Thurmond, at 41, has seniority). Carney is old enough that he was the quarterbacks coach at Richmond from 2004-08 when Healy was a backup for the Spiders. And, again, only 39.

He illustrates some of Clemson’s varied defensive schemes on the white board. He starts with a black marker, then blue, then orange — a new color for every scheme Tigers defensive backs might run. He talks about another scheme and gets ready to pick up another marker, but runs out of colors. Ratliff finds a red one and flips it to him as they begin to review their own film one last time.

“Where are your eyes right there?” Carney asks Reynolds during one play.

“On (offensive tackle) Cam (Clark),” Reynolds says.

Carney: “On Cam or the ball?”

Reynolds corrects himself: “The ball.”

Carney: “Keep (your eyes) through your target. Like shooting free throws. You played hoop, right? You’re not a hooper?”

“I played in middle school,” Reynolds says. “Brought the ball up the court. Averaged 12 points and seven rebounds. I was a hustle player. A gym rat kind of a guy. I played my role.”

That elicits howls of laughter from the other quarterbacks. Among other attributes, Reynolds relies on resourcefulness and moxie to overcome his 5-foot-10 stature.

“You were?” says Kean. “Yeah, I could see that.”

Communication key for depleted 49ers defense

Tuesday begins with more early morning meetings and an 8:30 a.m. practice.

Co-defensive coordinator Marcus West is several minutes into his session when he pauses and asks graduate assistant Nick Murphy to put on some music.

“Make sure it’s clean,” he adds.

The music, mostly hip-hop, begins and plays (relatively) softly in the background.

West knows he will face Clemson without four of his best players. Injuries have claimed senior end Tyriq Harris, senior linebacker Jeff Gemmell, senior safety Ben DeLuca and freshman linebacker Prince Bemah.

With those guys out and less-experienced players filling in, West preaches the added importance of communication.

“Play our scheme,” he says. “Play fast. Play violent.”

The players, ankles taped, are dressed for practice that will start after the meeting. Senior end Alex Highsmith, one of several players battling a flu bug, sits in the front row. He sips an energy drink from a paper cup. Cups from two smoothies he already has consumed sit on the floor next to his chair.

Highsmith, a former walk-on who already has four sacks this season, is considered the 49ers’ top NFL prospect. Healy said the Clemson game will provide Highsmith a chance to showcase his individual skills against a top-flight opponent and potentially enhance his draft stock.

West calls on him several times during the meeting, referring to him only as his jersey number, “5.” Five answers correctly each time and takes copious notes.

It doesn’t go so well for a teammate on the other side of the room, whom West notices isn’t writing anything in his notebook and takes a scolding.

Tuesday’s practice is the first time the 49ers will be in pads for the week. They have 117 players on their roster. That means 24 players have to share a number, including Highsmith and backup running back Aaron McAllister.

Shortly before practice begins, McAllister walks over to Highsmith and hands him a helmet that has a No. 5 sticker on the back.

“This is your helmet, bro,” says McAllister, who had inadvertently picked up the wrong one.

Highsmith jogs out and joins the defensive unit. Without four of their best players, West continues to stress how critical communication will be Saturday in what will be an ever louder environment than what they faced two weeks ago at Appalachian State.

Healy gathers the team at midfield when practice ends. Although not unhappy, Healy wasn’t altogether pleased with the team’s effort.

“There are going to be times when we screw up and don’t execute perfectly,” Healy says. “You can hide a lot of those mistakes by playing so damn hard and having so much fun and with so much energy playing football. You can also change a coach’s perception and mentality of how a practice goes, just by coming out and chirping a little more. Understanding that you need a little more.

“I thought today was OK. Guess what OK gets you? Beat! It gets you .500! I don’t give a (expletive) about being just OK. I want to be great!”

He notices a player looking at the ground.

“Get your freaking eyes up,” Healy barks.

Healy then talks about finding the balance between getting things right in practice and thinking ahead to how it will all play out Saturday. He asks them to stop worrying so much about Clemson. “Fix us,” he said, and then, clearly annoyed, he ended practice the same way he always does.

“Love you! Proud of you!”

Until spots a player walking toward the locker room.

“How about jogging off the field?” Healy shouts.

Bonding and jawing in the weight room

Chris Laskowski blows his whistle in short bursts as he skips down an aisle in the 49ers’ weight room. For a program that’s only 7 years old that plays in a stadium generously described as adequate, this is a state-of-the-art facility the 49ers love to tout.

The piercing whistle keeps time to loud rap music, and it only adds to the energy of this weight-training session, which is run with military-type precision by Laskowski, Charlotte’s director of football performance.

This lifting session is one of two he’ll oversee after Wednesday’s practice. Each lasts about 40 minutes.

Players warm-up by doing pull-ups and band stretches. Then they turn to the weight machines, where the real work begins.

With music pumping, players keep up with their progress by looking at small computer screens attached to the top of each station.

“Hey, change this song!” defensive back Jonnie Pitman shouts as a slow instrumental enters the playlist.

Soon, it’s all hip-hop and hard rock. Highsmith and defensive back Ryan Braithwaite play air guitar between reps.

Defensive back Jacione Fugate and Ringwood jaw at each other about who’s lifting more, but they spot each other during a successful bench press, shake hands and hug.

At another station, Laskowski and several players gather around Finger — the 49ers’ shortest player at 5-4 — as he tries for what appears to be a personal best. The players watch Finger lift, then look at the results on the computer screen.

Everybody shouts. Finger smiles. And Laskowski sends everyone to lunch.

“We’ve got sweet mashed potatoes today,” he says. “I believe they’re better than regular mashed potatoes. Finish your food, men.”

No nightmares thinking about Death Valley

Four tour buses are lined up outside Charlotte’s field house late Friday afternoon. The 75 players who made the traveling squad, along with coaches, support staff and coaches wives, climb aboard for the two-hour ride to Greenville, South Carolina, where the team will spend the night.

When the team arrives at the hotel, 49ers sports information director Tom Whitestone puts offensive coordinator Atkins and co-defensive coordinators West and Cooper on the phone with the television talent who will broadcast the game on the ACC Network.

Healy goes last, taking the phone from Atkins.

“Hi guys,” he says. “I just want you to know that I called the (offensive) plays for the Gardner-Webb, App State and UMass games. Alex gets to do it and take the blame for Clemson.”

Dinner soon follows. In a large banquet room, players line up at two long buffet lines. Anything and everything is available — salads, pasta, chicken (grilled and fried), burgers, mashed potatoes. Laskowski monitors all of it.

Healy picks at a piece of fried chicken on his plate. He looks down at his phone and notices a social media post about Clemson coach Dabo Swinney.

“Dabo says he took the team to see a movie tonight,” Healy says. “Is the new Rambo movie out?”

He has only taken his teams to the movies a few times in his now three-plus seasons as a head coach.

“I’ve found that a lot of guys don’t really like it,” he said. “Some of them sneak out of the theater and go back to the dorm so they can get some sleep.”

Dinner is followed by more meetings at the Greenville Marriott. Laskowski makes sure the players continue to drink fluids — “force hydrate,” he calls it. When the team gathers again, Healy asks his players to not act too impressed with Clemson’s “Death Valley.”

“I don’t want anyone taking pictures when we get in there,” he says. “No phones.”

After Ryan Gloer, chairman of UNC Charlotte’s Fellowship of Christian Athletes chapter, talks to the team, Healy announces junior center Jaelin Fisher will wear the honorary No. 49 jersey against Clemson. The No. 49 is awarded each week to a player who demonstrates the standards that defines Charlotte’s program. Fisher’s teammates yell their approval. Healy doesn’t think it’s loud enough, so they try again.

Because he’s the No. 49, Fisher gets to grant one wish to his teammates.

Knowing the game begins at 7:30 p.m., the next day, Fisher says, “We’re sleeping in tomorrow!”

Then it gets really loud. When things calm down, there’s one last place to go before bed: An ice cream social.

A hotel employee stops Healy as he walks out of the meeting room.

“That’s the loudest, best team spirit I’ve heard in all my years working here,” he says.

“That’s great!” Healy replies. “We know we’re going to win at least something down here.”

“You know who the worst team I’ve seen is?” the worker quips back. “Auburn. They came down here a few years ago and it was like they were going to a funeral.”

The long wait

Game days with a night kickoff are long, but thanks to Fisher’s malevolence, the players get that extra hour of sleep. Breakfast is moved from 8:30 a.m. to 9:30, although West arrives at the earlier time to eat.

“I didn’t get the memo,” he said.

After breakfast, the 49ers head outside to the Marriott parking lot, where the offense and defense take one final walk-through on the asphalt.

It’s not as odd as it looks — dozens of college football players standing around and going through plays in slow motion hours before kickoff. Most college football teams playing on the road do the same thing.

As they finish, Gemmell — the senior linebacker who will miss the game with a sprained ankle and the defense’s vocal leader — stops to talk.

“This is killing me,” Gemmell said of having to sit out. “But I think they’re ready. I’ll be a member of the hype squad.”

After lunch, Healy addresses the team one final time in the hotel.

“You’re playing the No. 1 team in the country; they’re really good,” Healy said. “They’ve got great athletes. I hate to tell you, but one of those freaks is going to make a play. The question is not if they make a play, but when?

“My question to you is, how will you respond? The only thing I can say is, why not go down freakin’ swinging? I promise you, I’m not going out there passive. Don’t go out there and let them punch me, to see how it feels. No, freakin’ attack it!

“Love you! Proud of you!”

Preparing to face the No. 1 Tigers

The ride to Clemson from the hotel takes about 45 minutes. The game won’t start for another three hours and parking lots are already hitting capacity, and many Tigers fans wave at the buses. When the 49ers arrive at Memorial Stadium, they’re greeted by a few hundred Charlotte fans.

The 49ers are crammed into the visitor’s locker room with about 20 minutes until kickoff. Some players sit facing their lockers, heads bowed in concentration. Others simply stare blankly ahead.

But there’s music blaring, and linebacker Peter Agabe is trying to fire his teammates up, jumping around the middle of the room, mugging for cameras and pulling others in to dance.

After Gloer leads a prayer, Healy steps in:

“If you don’t walk out there and your hair doesn’t stand up on end, there’s something wrong with you. This is what you signed up for. This is why you picked this place, to come and play a prime-time game, just like this, so you can make a statement for yourself. ... Let’s take another step forward. I can’t wait to watch you succeed and I dare you to match my energy.”

“Love you! Proud of you!”

Hard lessons from a tough defeat

While his teammates shower and get ready for the 2 1/2-hour bus trip back to Charlotte, senior running back Benny LeMay steps outside the locker room to meet the media. He answers questions directly and clearly — and defiantly.

“A lot of people in the world can’t say they played the No. 1 team in the country,” LeMay says. “This will be great for us.”

Not everything went poorly that night. LeMay rushed for 81 yards. Highsmith had another sack and a Clemson offensive lineman referred to Highsmith as a “dude,” who is the fastest pass rusher he has ever played against.

But the final score, in front of a national TV audience, was still 52-10.

In a few hours, a new week will start. Time to turn the page and begin preparing for the next opponent, Florida Atlantic, in the 49ers’ Conference USA opener.

“The real season starts,” Healy tells his team. “We’ve got to have a great week of practice to go 1-0 in the conference. We have a point to prove. ... I’m proud of your effort and your fight. I don’t think anybody can underestimate that or question that. But we’re a lot better than we showed tonight. Agreed?”

“Yes, sir,” they say.

On to the next week.

“Love you!” Healy says one last time. “Proud of you!”

This story was originally published September 27, 2019 at 8:08 AM.