By July 2032. Sixteenth camp. I've been doing this longer than some of my current players have been alive, which is a thought I try not to have too often because it doesn't take you anywhere useful. You just run camp. You get up at five, you run camp, you go to sleep, you get up and do it again.
This year's camp feels different in a way I can't fully articulate. The roster is strong — we have a sophomore running back named Trevon Ashford who might be the most naturally gifted runner I've coached since Marcus Williams, and watching him run routes in camp is like watching something that should be impossible made easy. But beyond the talent, there's a chemistry in this group that camps don't usually produce on their own. They like each other. They're not just teammates, they're friends. And in my experience, teams that are friends beat teams that are just talented about forty percent more often than they should.
Midweek I ran into Coach Williams at the athletic department office. He's been retired for a year now and he looked good — rested in a way I've never seen him look. He said retirement suited him. He said the hardest part was the first month when he kept waking up at five by habit and then having nowhere to be. I asked what he did with those mornings. He said he started cooking breakfast and reading and calling his son. I told him that sounded good. He said it was.
On Friday I made chile verde for the coaching staff dinner — a tradition we've kept since year two at Eldorado Prep. Forty pounds of roasted Hatch green chile goes into the pot along with pork shoulder that's been marinating since Tuesday. I make it hot enough to require a warning and then watch the new coaches try to be tough about it. The veterans know to pace themselves. The new guys never do. There's a lesson in there. I've been trying to articulate it for sixteen summers and I'm still working on it.
Forty pounds of chile verde needs something sturdy next to it — something that can hold its own against all that heat without trying to compete. Sweet potato cornbread has been that thing for us since about year four, when one of our defensive coordinators brought a pan to staff dinner and nobody said a word for ten minutes because we were all too busy eating. I’ve made it every camp since. The new coaches reach for it after the chile hits, and the veterans know to grab a square before the pot even comes off the stove.
Sweet Potato Cornbread
Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 30 minutes | Total Time: 45 minutes | Servings: 12
Ingredients
- 1 cup yellow cornmeal
- 1 cup all-purpose flour
- 1/4 cup granulated sugar
- 1 tablespoon baking powder
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
- 1 cup mashed cooked sweet potato (about 1 large sweet potato)
- 2 large eggs
- 1/2 cup whole milk
- 1/3 cup unsalted butter, melted
- 2 tablespoons honey
Instructions
- Preheat oven. Set oven to 400°F. Grease a 9-inch square baking pan or cast-iron skillet with butter or cooking spray.
- Combine dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the cornmeal, flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, and cinnamon until evenly blended.
- Mix wet ingredients. In a separate bowl, stir together the mashed sweet potato, eggs, milk, melted butter, and honey until smooth.
- Combine and stir. Pour the wet mixture into the dry ingredients and stir with a wooden spoon or spatula until just combined. Do not overmix — a few small lumps are fine.
- Pour and spread. Transfer the batter into the prepared pan and spread it into an even layer.
- Bake. Bake for 25 to 30 minutes, until the top is golden and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.
- Cool and serve. Let the cornbread rest in the pan for 10 minutes before slicing into squares. Serve warm alongside chile verde, stew, or on its own with a pat of butter.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 195 | Protein: 4g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 29g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 230mg