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Desperate for new grist for Alabama's busily churning football mill, Bryant and his ten assistants scoured a three-state area, staged coaching clinics, later even enlisted the assistance of Alabama's Governor John Patterson. With each young prospect Bryant's approach varied: sometimes he was fatherly and cajoling, sometimes he was tough and terse. To wavering Tackle Prospect Steve Wright. Bryant rasped: "Steve, we were considering you, but I think I've changed my mind. You don't have the guts to play for Alabama." Wright begged for a chance to sign. To compete with such entrenched Southeastern powers as Auburn and Mississippi, Bryant upped the ante: he promised first-class meals and travel accommodations, persuaded Alabama officials to enlarge the school's stadium (from 32,000 to 43,000 seats) and build a stereo-equipped dressing room, a swimming pool, and a "hospitality house" for entertaining rookie prospects and their parents.
Gravy Train. Bryant's salesmanship paid off. A steady stream of sturdy stalwarts rode the gravy train to the oak-dotted Tuscaloosa campus, eager to knock heads and — in Bryant's words — "suck up their guts" for dear old 'Bama. Halfback Mike Fracchia (6 ft. 1 in., 186 lbs.) came from Memphis, Tenn., because "I wanted to play on a good team and I knew Coach Bryant was going to turn one out." Among Bryant's first batch of hand-picked recruits were two of Alabama's brightest stars: Quarterback Pat Trammell and Tackle Billy Neighbors— both strong candidates for All-America and standout pro prospects. An A student in predentistry, rangy (6 ft. 2 in., 193 Ibs.) Quarterback Trammell is a bruising runner whose accurate passing (54 completions in 93 attempts, only two interceptions) has even surprised Bryant. Blocky (6 ft., 229 Ibs.) Lineman Neighbors, iron man in Alabama's sturdy forward wall, has started 26 straight games, plays both offense and defcase, anchors a rugged defensive line that has allowed opponents only 130 yds. a game.
Granite-faced Bear Bryant (he earned the nickname wrestling a bear at the age of eleven) reports for work each day promptly at 5:30 a.m., sometimes spends the night sacked out in his spacious office in the Alabama gym. On the practice field he is a relentless, brutal taskmaster who orders players, managers, trainers and coaches alike through every drill on the dead run. Off field or on, he lives, eats and breathes football with an angry fervor that few rival coaches can pretend to understand. At 7 one morning, so a Bryant legend goes, Bear picked up his phone and dialed Auburn University's athletic office, trying to clear up a ticket hassle. "Let me speak to Coach Ralph Jordan, please," he asked. Jordan was not yet in. Neither was Ticket Manager Bill Beckwith. "Hmmm," said Bear Bryant, "you people don't take your football very seriously over there, do you?"