Scott Keepfer

skeepfer@greenvillenews.com

CLEMSON — Tamika Elliott has a rule: When you come in, the phone goes out.

If Tony, her husband of eight years, forgets this simple dictum, he'll find himself banished to the garage or front lawn until his cellular lifeline has been sufficiently disabled.

There is, after all, a wide-eyed and anxious 13-month-old boy waiting in the house to see daddy — a daddy without a cell phone attached to the side of his head.

"We don't get to see him all day," Tamika said. "So that's the least he can do."

Tony Elliott, an assistant football coach at Clemson University, understands.

"You've got to have some parameters," he said. "She says, 'When you walk in this house and this little man is up, he's going to want to see you, so you'd better not be on the phone.' "

Such a policy is common at every assistant coach's home, yet there are times when there must be exceptions.

A few years ago, Kristy Pearman became angry when her husband, Danny, Clemson's tight ends coach, took a phone call during dinner.

When she asked him to please turn the phone off, he promptly got up and left the table, not returning until midway through the meal.

He had been talking to one of his players who had had a death in the family.

"Then I felt so guilty," Kristy said. "And I was reminded once again that it comes with the territory. It's part of the job."

At first blush, being an assistant football coach at Clemson sounds like a dream job, and in many ways it is.

There's the satisfaction derived from impacting and guiding young lives and bringing different personalities together to accomplish a team goal.

Then there are monetary rewards, beginning with a relatively hefty paycheck; the lowest-paid of head coach Dabo Swinney's nine full-time assistants will earn $240,000 this year.

One also can't overlook an array of perks inherent to the job, ranging from the use of dealer-provided vehicles to bowl bonuses to cell phone allowances to tickets to games.

They also aren't required to punch a time clock, which is nice, but therein lies the rub.

"I really don't want to count the number of hours I'm working because I'm afraid of what that number might be," Tony Elliott said, laughing.

Swinney and his assistants reconvened this week, marking the beginning of what they hope will turn out to be a six-month joyride resulting in victories, championships and a lucrative bowl game in a sunny clime come January.

It also ushers in the most publicly visible, high-pressured period of their annual schedule, often characterized by 12- and 14-hour days and a seemingly ceaseless stream of meetings, film sessions and other job-related obligations.

This time of year, the "dream job" can result in plenty of sleepless nights.

"It's seven days a week until the job gets done," Elliott said. "It's a lot, but sometimes it doesn't feel like a lot because everything goes so fast. You've got your routine, and once you get through about the second game of the season, it starts falling in line and before you know it you're like, 'Man, these days are long, but the weeks sure go fast.' "

It can be a stressful time for their families, too.

It's fairly common for dad to leave before the children are awake in the morning and not climb into bed at night until after the kids are safely tucked in.

Suddenly, mom is rendered head of what has become something akin to a single-parent household, charged with transporting kids, fixing lunches, running errands and performing myriad other tasks that seem only to rear their head when one is shorthanded.

Tamika Elliott has cut back her work hours as a nurse practitioner and instructor to part-time only, which affords her more time to care for young A.J.

"I'm blessed," Tony said. "As passionate as I am about football, that's how passionate she is about being a mother. And she understands that because of the position we're in she was able to cut back on her (work) schedule to be around. During the season she takes care of me, too, and tries to keep that stress off me."

To a man, Clemson's assistant coaches will tell you that they couldn't be successful in their endeavors without wholehearted support from their families. And that's important on a staff that includes six assistant coaches who have young children.

Kristy and Danny Pearman have been married for 21 years and have three children — daughter Taylor, 18, and sons Tanner, 14, and Trent, 10. Kristy, who jokes that she's a "veteran" in the coaching wife fraternity, says her husband's work schedule has redefined "normal."

"We don't know any different," she said. "It's crazy, no doubt about it. There's no other occupation that can compare to some of it. It's 24-7, and people don't see that side of it.

"You have to be very independent. I've always said that I never plan for my husband to be somewhere, so if he's able to show up for a kid or family event it's an added bonus.

"I had to learn that. I'd be disappointed at first, but I had to wrap my brain around that and quit expecting him to be there. I know it's not his fault — it's his job."

In a worst-case scenario, one might assume that coaches' families bid their dads and husbands farewell at the beginning of fall practice, with expectations of seeing them again sometime in December.

It's a scenario that Brent Venables strives to avoid.

"That's your biggest fear as a dad — that you don't find a way to manage it all, so you try to take them to school in the morning when you can, or get home early on a Sunday or take them to church or to lunch whenever possible," said Clemson's defensive coordinator, whose wife, Julie, manages a household that includes sons Jake and Tyler and daughters Laney and Addie.

"They say children spell love T-I-M-E. I heard that in a devotional last year and thought it was awesome. Hey, they only grow up once."

Despite dad's long hours, growing up around football isn't half bad.

Swinney's family-friendly atmosphere includes an understood open-door policy that allows coaches' families to come visit dad at just about any time, be it at the office or on the practice field. Families typically join the team for a midweek dinner as well.

And if a coach has a son or daughter playing in a sporting event or participating in another school function, they typically have Swinney's blessing to leave early or come in late in order to attend.

"So much of what we do is about family," offensive coordinator Chad Morris said. "You have to put your work in, but when you're able to have your wife and kids come up at any time or be able to get to your kid's ballgame, that's pretty special."

Kristy Pearman agrees.

The Pearmans have made six stops along the coaching highway — all at either Atlantic Coast or Southeastern Conference schools — but are most appreciative of their current working environment.

"This is definitely the most family-friendly place we've been," Kristy said.

It helps the cause that Swinney and his wife, Kathleen, have three boys ranging in age from 10 to 16.

"Kathleen is a huge part of this support system as well, always making sure the wives are taken care of and included in everything," Kristy said. "She's a huge nurturer.

"Coach Swinney wants to see his kids, too, so he understands how precious that time is."

Kristy also appreciates the tight-knit group that the coaches' wives have formed. Not only has it fostered lifelong friendships, but it also serves as a complete support system, if you will — a sort of combination sitter service, shuttle system, social circle.

"We're all one big family," Kathleen Swinney said. "Our husbands do the same thing, so we get it, we understand each other. It's a common bond. Everybody's low maintenance — there's no drama. And when we have a chance to do something fun, we all try to do it."

A "my kids are your kids, your kids are my kids" philosophy prevails.

"If someone has a kid that needs to be picked up or watched, someone else will always be there to help," Kristy said.

And Kristy's kids, much like those of her counterparts, are regular sights at Clemson practices.

Some watch intently as plays unfold, others are more preoccupied with tossing a football along the sideline.

"My boys are old enough to watch practice, and they're welcome out there," Kristy said.

"That's cool in a sense, but I don't want them to think that it's not normal. I don't want them to think that they're in some sort of prestige position, having Tajh Boyd throw a pass to them. That's normal to them and they don't make a big deal of it. And I love that. They may look back in 20 years and think, 'Oh, wow!' But I'd rather them be very humble about it."

Clemson receivers coach and recruiting coordinator Jeff Scott has special insight into the family dynamic when it comes to coaching.

His father, Brad, served as offensive coordinator for Bobby Bowden at Florida State and later was head coach at South Carolina during Jeff's formative years.

"I definitely got an early look at what that was like, and it was one of the reasons I decided to be a coach," Jeff said. "Bobby Bowden was great, and he allowed — just like Coach Swinney does here — all of the coaches' kids to be around, so every day after school I would go over to football practice and sit in on meetings and do my homework on the floor in the meeting room while they were watching video."

Some of Jeff's most memorable moments came during that time, particularly when his father would pick him up early from school on Friday afternoon and take him on recruiting trips to Jacksonville, Florida, which typically culminated with watching high school games.

"I loved that," Jeff said. "And if he had a morning or an afternoon that he could get away, he was always there. He definitely made it work. He was able to keep up with the demands of the job and also spend time with his family. I feel very blessed to have grown up in a coach's family."

Jeff and his wife, Sara, haven't started a family yet, but she makes it a point to spend quality time with her husband whenever possible.

"She'll come up and bring me my lunch a couple of days a week," Jeff said. "There are plenty of opportunities, little windows. You've got to find those windows."

Or not.

"I think after me being around the house and on vacation with her for the last three weeks, she's looking for a little bit of a break," Jeff said with a grin. "I think she's excited that I'll be more occupied here soon."

That day has arrived.

Fall practice begins in less than two weeks and a date with Georgia looms large on Aug. 30, so the windows of unoccupied time are being pulled shut.

And Tony Elliott again will be reminded of how much he appreciates the precious blocks of time he's able to spend with A.J.

He had just better remember to silence his phone before he walks in the front door.