The Year I Fought a Parking Sign: Gameday Year Two

With any new annual tradition, you hope each year feels special. After starting with football in Year One, I quickly discovered—upon moving back to Collierville—that girls’ volleyball was one of the most beloved local sports. Several friends had daughters playing competitively, and that year my own daughter, Maggie, began playing as well.

My daughter, Maggie, as she began playing volleyball, quickly fell in love with the sport. She recently played for her middle school team, where she excelled and won the Dragon Award. Lisa—my wife and Maggie’s mom—coached her alongside our friend, Jane Burk. This past season, Lisa and our friend Anna Whitmire coached together and won the league championship. Volleyball has become a family-and-friends experience that has brought countless joyful moments during our time in Collierville.

One major addition to Gameday in Year Two was our gigantic inflatable football branded with the Central Gameday logo. It stood nearly twenty feet tall and was affectionately nicknamed “The Duke.” The original plan was to display The Duke on the Winchester Boulevard side of the property for an entire month, enticing daily commuters to ask the obvious question: Why is there a 20-foot football sitting on the lawn of Central Church?

Unfortunately, the town of Collierville declined our request. So we pivoted.

Inspiration came from the craze of Pokémon Go, which had sent millions of people on scavenger hunts to find digital creatures hidden across GPS locations. That gave me an idea:
What if we moved The Duke around town and challenged people to find it?

So we did.
We placed The Duke at Phillip and Holly Greer’s home on White Road. Then in my backyard—visible from Wolf River Road. Later it rested at Wayne and Holly White’s home, where it could be seen from Collierville Elementary School. Finally, right before Gameday, The Duke returned triumphantly to the church lawn.

Another new feature in Year Two was the inclusion of local celebrity athletes—former college players who signed autographs for kids. We welcomed Zach Miller, who played baseball at Ole Miss, and Julie Bell, a former Ole Miss basketball standout. We secured commitments from a former Ole Miss football player, a former Memphis Tigers player, and even a former NFL and Tennessee Vols player, but all three had to cancel at the last minute.

We also added a classic car show, bringing nearly twenty vehicles to the event. It was a fantastic addition—though not without stress. We reserved a special section of the parking lot for the cars, and as Gameday approached, I found myself obsessively worried about their safety.

This anxiety led to one of the most embarrassing moments of my ministry career.

About an hour before the event, I spotted a beat-up car slowly wandering through the parking lot near the classic show vehicles. My heart rate skyrocketed. Certain this lone assassin was seconds away from totaling someone’s prized ’68 Camaro, I locked eyes on the threat and marched heroically toward the scene—only to walk directly into a metal No Parking sign.

The sign won.

I immediately began bleeding from a deep gash above my upper lip. Volunteers gasped. Some feared I’d have a permanent scar. But despite the injury, I was determined to stay until the end. I continued speaking as the master of ceremonies, though I refrained—wisely—from playing in the volleyball game that evening.

For our main attraction, the staff challenged the youth girls to a volleyball match, and the youth got their revenge after losing the football game in Year One. We also introduced a new Lee Corso for the evening—Jerry Fudge—who donned the mascot headgear to make the official game-day pick. The staff competed as the Land Sharks, and the youth proudly called themselves the Flying Squirrels.

The evening was a success… but it did end with casualties. Namely, my face. After the event, I drove straight to the emergency room, where I received stitches for my parking-sign collision. It quickly became a church-wide joke, with many suggesting we wrap the signs in pool noodles to protect me in the future.

As embarrassing as the moment was, I was grateful that none of the classic cars received so much as a scratch.

Another new addition to Year Two brought back fond memories from my former church in Evansville, Indiana—walking tacos. At Redeemer Fellowship Church, which I helped plant and pastor, we participated each year in the nation’s second-largest street festival, selling walking tacos as our booth specialty. If you’ve never had one, imagine taco meat and classic toppings served in a Fritos or Doritos bag—portable, delicious, and perfect for mingling.

With the help of master chef Kyle Kuntsman, we introduced walking tacos to Central Gameday. They were a massive hit, served alongside our usual popcorn and snow cones. Their success sparked inspiration for future food ideas.

As Year Two concluded, I found myself reflecting—stitches and all—on an exciting new possibility. Sitting in the ER waiting room near midnight, I realized how much potential we had to connect with the diverse, international community living around us.

If we chose a sport like soccer next year, how could we creatively and meaningfully engage the global neighbors in our own backyard?

That question became the seed for Year Three.