Houston Nutt: Of Course My Player Can Read

The tale of defensive tackle Jerrell Powe becoming eligible to play big-time college football is something out of a Tolkien novel. First, Powe had to take a test, then find a magic ring, then go on a dangerous journey through hellish badlands fighting mythical beasts in order to get to the offices of the NCAA, where he boldly submitted his ACT score, supplemental class grades, and cut the head off a dragon to be pronounced eligible to play by college football's ruling fathers. I'm also pretty sure this story involves some online classes, and possibly his mother suggesting Powe "couldn't read" in a court document filed during the appeals process.

All of this is past business, now: Powe is at last ensconced at Ole Miss, the same school that turned Michael Oher into a steady academic performer, NFL Draft pick, and star of the Michael Lewis book The Blind Side. The book covers (among many other interesting things) Oher's intense tutoring at Ole Miss, a school with a large academic assistance program designed to keep players eligible for the field and presumably successful in the classroom.

Powe might be spending a bit more time in Ole Miss's tutoring program over this offseason. His free time is likely to be curtailed after he was ticketed for a noise violation this past weekend at his apartment, where a party got out of hand, his teammate Enrique Davis was detained for disorderly conduct, and Powe suggested he couldn't read the citation the officer issued to him.

This was all published in the local papers, and Houston Nutt, in full damage control, insists Powe was being sarcastic.

Coach Nutt said to him the police report made it obvious that Powe was joking when he said he couldn’t read.

“Of course he can read, how do you think he’s getting through college?” Nutt said. “Now he just needs to learn to keep his mouth shut.”

It's really not good when as a college coach you have to point at one of your players and insist, "No, no. He can read, trust me." It's worse when you have to point to one and say, "No, don't worry. He's like a T. Rex. As long as you don't move he can't see you and won't attack." But having questions about the literacy of your players, well, that's just part of the fun of being an SEC fan, along with naming your children after dead coaches and swearing you can't taste the alcohol even on your eighth glass of sweet tea vodka. (Oh, it's there. Trust us.)

This post originally appeared on the Sporting Blog. For more, see The Sporting Blog Archives.