He's been called a genius, an offensive whiz, a coach's coach.
He's been called a quarterback, an offensive lineman, a starving assistant and an offensive coordinator.
He's been to Citrus Bowls and Super Bowls.
It took 54 years of living and 32 of coaching before Ralph Friedgen could finally be called head coach. And until then, who knew he could serve as band leader and lead singer as well.
''I feel like an idiot, to be honest with you," Friedgen said about his burgeoning Maryland post-win tradition of leading the band and fans in the singing of the Terrapin fight song. ''But if that's what turns the fans on I'll do about anything right now."
Friedgen has turned the Maryland football fans onto something they haven't experienced in the 15 years since Friedgen last left the school he earned a degree from in 1969 and twice served as an assistant coach - winning.
Maryland is 5-0 for the first time since 1978. The Terrapins are 3-0 in the Atlantic Coast Conference and leading the conference for the first time since they went unbeaten in the ACC in 1983-85 when Friedgen served as offensive coordinator.
And now the coach who twice built Georgia Tech's offense into the envy of the ACC is returning to Atlanta as the enemy. His league-leading Terps are 10-point underdogs against the Ramblin' Wreck tonight at Bobby Dodd Stadium.
And Friedgen's loving every minute of it.
''I've never played a game that I anticipated losing," Friedgen said. ''They've all gone the way I've expected them to go. But it is a nice surprise to be where we're at and to play this game which is crucial in our season. I'm happy to have that opportunity."
There's only one area of discomfort. Friedgen must face off against his old boss and closest coaching friend George O'Leary for the first time. They didn't exactly envision this when they first met in some high school guidance office 20 years ago trying to recruit players for their respective programs.
''You never really enjoy playing your friends because it's such a competitive situation," Friedgen said. ''But regardless of how the game goes, it's not going to effect our relationship."
The relationship between Friedgen and O'Leary is as tight as they come. Both native, no-nonsense New Yorkers, they hit it off the minute they met. When they both became Bobby Ross assistants at Georgia Tech, they car pooled to work together. O'Leary is the godfather to the youngest of Friedgen's three daughters. They both own homes two coves apart on Lake Oconee, where they plan to retire someday.
When O'Leary hired Friedgen away from the San Diego Chargers in 1997, somebody asked what the new offensive coordinator was like.
''He's a lot like George, only he coaches offense," one of the players answered.
''That says it all," Friedgen said.
It just took Friedgen a little longer to reach the highest level of coaching. He might be the genius everybody says he is, but Friedgen has always had to beg for the opportunity to prove it.
After four years as a graduate assistant at Maryland, Friedgen had about $50 to his name and a blossoming courtship with his future wife, Gloria. So he wrote 120 letters and mailed them out to every Division I college looking for gainful employment.
''I got rejected by every one - so I'm used to it," he says. ''I just keep plugging along."
Once in the coaching machinery, Friedgen hungered for a head coaching job of his own. There were more rejections until his alma mater finally gave him the chance he'd been waiting for. He doesn't regret any steps along the way.
''If I'd become (a head coach) earlier, I would never have had the opportunities to have had the successes we had Georgia Tech or Maryland or the Chargers," he said. ''Those experiences in reflection are every valuable to me and precious. I feel very blessed."
He's also blessed with the nation's rushing leader Bruce Perry (164.2 yards per game) and a Terrapin team hungry to experience success after 16 seasons of mediocrity or worse.
It has taken more than just coaching to turn things around in College Park, Md. It has taken motivation from a coach not known for his pipes.
''What I'm trying to do is unify this university and get them behind our program," Friedgen said. ''It's a little bit out of character for me to stand up there and sing the victory song."
During two-a-days, Friedgen approached the Maryland marching band. They challenged him tosing the fight song.
''I told them the next time I would sing it would be at 4 o'clock after we beat North Carolina," Friedgen said. ''Now they expect that every week. I take the players over there and tried to stand in the background, but they keep begging me to come back up."
If he and the Terps keep up this pace, Maryland will wonder why they didn't beg Friedgen to come back sooner. And his old buddy O'Leary might wish he had never come back to Georgia.
Reach Scott Michaux at (706) 823-3219