100 Days, 100 Reasons G6 Football Matters

The hit was a personal foul and nothing more. Happens a few times a season in college football. Nobody remembers it by Monday.

Unless the band gets involved.

With less than a minute before halftime at the Alamodome on November 11, 2017, UTSA quarterback Dalton Sturm swung a pass right to receiver Marquez McNair, who found open field in front of him. UAB safety Jordan Petty forced him toward the sideline. Broderick Thomas was waiting.

Thomas — a junior free safety who was already developing a reputation as one of the most ferocious hitters in Conference USA — lit up Marquez as the receiver stepped out of bounds. “Since little league, I’ve had the hardest hits,” he told AL.com. “It’s been all of my life. That’s my specialty.”

The hit sent McNair flying across the boundary and into the UTSA Spirit of San Antonio marching band, which had gathered at the sideline to prepare for its halftime show. McNair popped up. The sousaphone he landed on did not.

Thomas was flagged for a personal foul. That should have been the end of it.

It was not.

Tuba Six

The instrument was known as Tuba Six. It had been part of the Spirit of San Antonio marching band since 2011 — the same year UTSA played its first game of football. The program and the sousaphone were born together. Christopher Zuniga, an 18-year-old freshman, was its player.

As the band processed what had happened, Zuniga picked up the mangled pieces. Then he lifted the crushed horn into the air and pumped his fist. The crowd reacted. Video of the hit — and Zuniga’s reaction — spread across Twitter that night.

McNair retweeted it. “Haha pray for the tuba,” he wrote.

UAB won the game, 24-19. Thomas did not learn what he had done to the sousaphone until the team loaded the buses.

“Somebody sent me the video,” he told AL.com. “As soon as I got on the bus, I watched it. I didn’t know I hit him that hard, but it was pretty hard. I thought it was pretty funny.”

His teammate Jordan Petty, the safety who had forced McNair toward the sideline, saw the whole thing unfold in real time. “I played him to the sideline and the next thing I knew, there was Broderick,” he told AL.com. “I think the tuba saw him before the receiver did.”

The Funeral

That evening, the Spirit of San Antonio held an impromptu memorial for Tuba Six on the 50-yard line at the Alamodome. Several band members hoisted the instrument’s case onto their shoulders like pallbearers and carried it off the field.

Two days later, the band held a full funeral service — blacked-out, open case-ket, carnations and a performance of the school’s alma mater. A eulogy was delivered.

“Six had a wonderful life, born in 2011, passed in 2017,” a band member said. “Six was truly an inspiration to us all, just a true leader in everything he did. Let us all try to remember Six the way he lived, not the way he died.”

SOSA Director Ron Ellis wrote the obituary.

“The collision was unavoidable and catastrophic,” Ellis wrote. “Tuba 6 did not scream, did not ask for help, and stood tall in the face of adversity in spite of the career ending injuries that had occurred.”

Zuniga said goodbye to his instrument the only way he could.

“Tuba 6 was one of the greatest instruments I have had the privilege of knowing and playing on, and now that he is gone there’s a hole in my heart that nothing can replace,” he told the San Antonio Express-News. “Tuba 6 was and still is an inspiration to me and many others and touched many lives with his beautiful sound.”

The band dedicated its next game to Tuba Six. Fans hung “RIP 6” banners at the last home game of the season. A fundraiser was launched to cover the $7,500 cost of a replacement sousaphone. One donor contributed “in honor of tuba #6, who was destroyed in pursuit of half time excellence.”

Tuba Six’s number was retired at the band banquet on December 6.

A parody Twitter account appeared within the week.

Back in Birmingham, UAB linebacker Shaq Jones was asked about the situation at Monday’s press conference. He grinned.

“The tuba, may it rest in peace,” he said.

Thomas showed no remorse.

“You might have to bring another one,” he said, “because I’m going to mess that one up, too.”

What Came Next

UAB had been ranked 130th out of 130 FBS teams in the preseason — dead last, a program returning from the dead that nobody expected to compete. Bill Clark’s team printed t-shirts about it. They went 8-4 in the regular season and made a bowl game. UTSA finished 6-5, clinching its second consecutive bowl eligibility. Both programs were building.

The next year, UAB went 11-3, won the Conference USA championship and the school’s first bowl victory. Thomas finished his career with 158 tackles across two seasons, then took a shot at the NFL — rookie camp with the Denver Broncos and the Kansas City Chiefs, where his uncle Emmitt Thomas had been a Hall of Fame and Super Bowl-winning cornerback. He is coaching defensive backs at Carroll College in Montana now.

What happened between UAB and UTSA over the next five years proved both programs were more than upstarts. From 2018 through 2021, they combined to win all four C-USA West Division titles — UAB taking three straight from 2018 to 2020, UTSA taking 2021. One of them appeared in the C-USA championship game five consecutive years, winning two apiece. The only title that escaped them went to Florida Atlantic in 2019.

By 2023, both had outgrown the conference entirely. UAB and UTSA departed for the American Athletic Conference together.

Why It Matters

UTSA was seven years old in 2017. UAB was in its first season back from a two-year shutdown. Tuba Six was six — born the same year as the football program it marched alongside.

Nobody outside Birmingham and San Antonio was watching a Conference USA game with a 21-3 halftime score. No NFL scout was there to evaluate Broderick Thomas. No national columnist filed a story. The moment belonged to the people who were there — the band kids who carried the casket, the safety who promised to break the next one, the fans who hung the banners, the donor who gave money “in honor of tuba #6, who was destroyed in pursuit of half time excellence.”

Alabama and Texas inherit their traditions. UAB and UTSA built one out of a broken sousaphone and a sense of humor. Eight years later, they are still telling the story.

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