"Some moments are nice, some are nicer, some are even worth writing about.'' – Late novelist Charles Bukowski from his poetry collection, "War All the Time"
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GAINESVILLE, Fla. – This story starts with a moment near the end of one of the most memorable days 47-year-old Tony McCoy has ever experienced. It's a family dinner late Saturday afternoon. Nothing fancy. Tony, wife Jodie, and sons T.J. and Isaiah eating double cheeseburgers and fries at a local Five Guys.
They had the urge to splurge.
"It was a pumped day,'' said Tony, a former standout defensive lineman for the Gators who later played nine seasons in the NFL. "We even celebrated and got a milkshake."
The adrenaline still rushing through his body more than an hour after the game, Tony invited some Gator fans in the restaurant to get into the photo. He wanted to share this day with as many as possible and there were no strangers in orange and blue.
Tony was in town for the Florida-South Carolina game and to take a special trip down memory lane as part of a ceremony between the first and second quarters to honor the 1990 and '91 UF football teams. Tony played defensive tackle on the '91 team that won the first official Southeastern Conference in school history.
Of course, he also returned to The Swamp to support T.J., a redshirt freshman center who was not expected to play in Florida's 20-7 win over South Carolina. That all changed on Florida's first offensive play of the game when starting center Tyler Jordan, already subbing for injured Cameron Dillard, suffered an ankle injury.
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Tony McCoy, forefront, with his wife Jodie, behind him, and sons T.J. (to his left) and Isaiah. (Photo: Courtesy of McCoy family)
T.J.'s time had arrived.
Meanwhile, Tony's day took an eventful turn he was not prepared for as he hugged former Gators teammate Tony Rowell on the sideline. Someone tapped him and yelled, "your boy is going in."
"Who would have thought? Nobody could have planned it more perfect than that,'' Tony said.
As T.J. strapped on his helmet and ran onto the field, Tony's emotions took flight to places he isn't sure he knew existed.
At one point during a TV timeout, Tony jumped into the huddle to offer encouragement.
What did he say to T.J.?
"I'm proud of you and go out there and do well,'' T.J. recalled Tuesday after practice.
Tony has no idea exactly what he said. The moment remains a blur of unabashed enthusiasm.
"I think I got a little geeked up,'' he said. "I started getting hyped and pumped and I kind of lost it a little bit. For me it's kind of emotional."
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If Tony's moment of exhilaration seems unusual for a man who once shared locker rooms with Peyton Manning and Jim Harbaugh and Marshall Faulk and coached T.J. in high school, you need to know about another moment.
This one happened in the spring of 2015 when T.J. was an early enrollee at North Carolina State. T.J. left the family home in Groveland, Fla. – about a half-hour west of Orlando – to chase his dream of playing college football like his dad.
A standout two-way player at South Lake High School where his father served as an assistant coach, the 6-foot-1, 308-pound T.J. made a permanent move to center his senior season and earned a scholarship. Adding to the family's good fortune at the time, Tony seemed to be winning his battle with leukemia and the good days were finally catching up to the bad days.
But when Tony and Jodie visited North Carolina for the Wolfpack's spring game, T.J. witnessed something that caused him to question everything.
"He was throwing up a lot,'' T.J. said. "I didn't know none of this stuff was going on. I didn't know he was still sick. It was tough."
Jodie had a heart-to-heart discussion with T.J. to update him on Tony's condition. The cancer had returned after multiple treatments of chemotherapy. Tony was sick and the family's search for a match for a bone marrow transplant for Tony was coming up empty.
Jodie told T.J. that his father was not going to be able to come to any of the Wolfpack's games due to Tony's unstable condition.
T.J. knew what he had to do.
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T.J. McCoy, No. 59, in Gators' huddle in win over South Carolina on Saturday. (Photo: Paige Santiago/For UAA Communications)
"My dad is my hero, my role model, my mentor and my friend,'' he said. "I just told my mom, 'look, I love college football, but my family is more important.' I wanted to be closer to my dad."
The situation caused Tony to ponder those deep questions we all have about our own mortality and family and life itself. He had already been told that without a bone marrow transplant, he had only about 30 percent chance to live.
Instead, he vowed to continue to fight, once telling the boys from an earlier setback when T.J. was still in high school that he planned to see both of them play in college.
Tony's 2015 setback set in motion an important decision for T.J. that left his future in question. T.J. was home, but what about his dream of playing college football?
"I felt kind of responsible internally,'' Tony said. "When he told us he wanted to come home, that was special to me. And then out of nowhere, to get an offer to play for the Gators, you couldn't write it any better."
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The moment that led T.J. from N.C. State to Florida is one that still cracks Tony's voice.
When Gators head coach Jim McElwain took over the program in December 2014, T.J. was already on his way to play for the Wolfpack. After McElwain inked his first recruiting class a couple of months later and began to turn attention to his first season, he received word of McCoy's plight.
New to Florida, McElwain had no history with Tony McCoy or his past with the Gators. But he needed players and after studying film of T.J., he decided he had found one.
Tony and T.J. came to Gainesville to meet McElwain in his office in early summer.
"I'm 6-1, 6-2, so a lot of people think I'm short,'' T.J. said. "They don't think I can play. But when they put that helmet on, they don't measure you on the field. They measure how hard you play. I always believed in myself."
So did Tony.
During his final seasons in the NFL, when T.J. was old enough to come around the locker room, his son immediately took a liking to the game. As T.J. got older, Tony shared stories about Manning's meticulous preparation and his ability to watch film, learn from mistakes, and move on to the next game.
He often reinforced those lessons as T.J. got older and started to develop as a potential college player.
"When he came in [Saturday], you could see in his eyes that he was ready,'' Gators offensive lineman Fred Johnson said. "He's a guy that can step up for us. I call him Little Mean. He came out and knew he was undersized, but he packs a punch. That has helped him and fueled him in his drive at what he's proven himself to be on this offensive line."
More than a year earlier, back in McElwain's office, Tony forgot about his leukemia battle and his aches and pains when McElwain offered T.J. and opportunity to play at Florida.
A religious man who has spent time as pastor at nondenominational Hope International Church in Groveland, Tony embraced fate with open arms.
"You're the type of player I like,'' McElwain told T.J.
"I got nervous for him,'' Tony said. "It was God. Seems like he answered all my prayers."
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Tony completed his last rounds of chemotherapy early last fall and has been cancer-free for more than a year. He counts his blessings each day and still visits Shands Hospital regularly for checkups. He has won past battles and understands the threat of future ones.
Here is another moment that unfolded Saturday. Tony simply turns it over to his faith because he is not sure how it happened.
Once former Gators coach Steve Spurrier honored the '90 and '91 teams with an on-field ceremony, the players were escorted off the field and toward their seats to watch the rest of the game. Somehow, no one grabbed Tony.
He was busy talking and enjoying the day when he noticed the rest of the players were gone. He watched from the UF sideline as the Gators built an early 14-0 lead and cruised to a win. They can clinch a second consecutive SEC East title on Saturday with a victory at LSU.
Gators center T.J. McCoy keeps quarterback Austin Appleby protected in his most significant performance for Gators. (Photo: James Metz/For UAA Communications)
When it was halftime, T.J. heard his father yelling.
"It was kind of like high school again,'' T.J. said. "I always had him on the sideline."
Since T.J. and Isaiah starting playing football, Tony has a four-pronged motto for them to play and live by. As the Gators headed toward the locker room for halftime, Tony walked along the sideline reminding T.J. of the message.
"We set those goals for him,'' Tony said. "Meeting God, academics, athletics and finances. Those are your four quarters of life. When you do that, great things happen for you. I'm just so proud of him for taking that opportunity to seize those four quarters of his life."
Other than a fumbled snap by quarterback Austin Appleby during an exchange, McCoy played the way you want an offensive lineman to play in spot duty. You rarely noticed he was in there.
He did his job.
"The moment wasn't too big,'' he said.
After that celebratory meal at Five Guys, T.J. had a final request of his dad. He wanted to study film from the game and get Tony's input.
McElwain, a father of three, was asked after practice Wednesday on how special of a day it must have been for the McCoys.
"Guys, sometimes there's a lot of things more important that go on – believe it or not – than Gator football itself,'' he said. "There's a father and a son – son living out a dream, father going through some things. I can't tell you, man, that warms your heart."
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If life is nothing more than a string of moments, Saturday is a moment frozen in time for the McCoy family.
Tony returned to The Swamp, feeling more like himself with each passing day. T.J. was forced into action and continued to fulfill a dream.
"It was a good day,'' he said. "It was something I had to do and I got it done."
Before this story ends, Tony shared a final moment that he will reflect on in a new way.
In one of his most intense rounds of chemotherapy treatment, Tony was transferred to Shands. He was suffering from what he called "chemo brain" and neuropathy and other side effects.
His hospital room happened to overlook campus and he could see Ben Hill Griffin Stadium in the distance.
Family, friends, church members and others paid visits. T.J., still in high school, visited when he could. It was during that stay Tony told his boys that he planned to stick around.
Tony stuck around. And on a sunny Saturday afternoon, he had a much better view of the stadium he once called home.
"It was touch and go for a long time,'' Tony said. "That part of it has been a family battle. With us and my battle with leukemia, this is all so special."