The time Steve Spurrier put the moves on Marcus Lattimore's mom

Seven or eight years ago, Marcus Lattimore was the prize everybody in college football wanted. A star running back in South Carolina, pretty much every program made overtures for Lattimore's services at some point.

The sudden rush of local fame beginning as a high school freshman, and then the wave of recruiting attention that followed, could be overwhelming at times for Marcus and his mother, Yolanda, as SB Nation's Jason Buckland describes in an exceptional profile of Lattimore.

Clemson made the first offer to Lattimore during his sophomore year, then South Carolina got onboard, then the entire nation followed as Lattimore won two state championships and South Carolina's Mr. Football Award during his high school career.

How much did Yolanda know about the process of guiding her supernaturally gifted son through the maze of college football recruiters? Not much at all. Football itself was a foreign object to her and Lattimore's then-girlfriend (now fiancee). From Jason's story:

His mother's knowledge of football was so slight that she would insist Marcus wear red socks during his high school games so Yolanda could identify him on the field. When Marcus was a senior, his girlfriend Miranda Bailey noticed perfectly organized boxes in his home with folders holding the offers Marcus received from colleges across the country. Miranda couldn't quite understand; she'd never followed football all that closely. "So you don't have to apply for school and apply for scholarships like me?" she wondered. "You get to go for free?"

Yolanda was a sweet Southern woman who was protective of her son and wanted what was best for him, so she wasn't one to immediately open up coaches when they entered the living room. Not even the gregarious and lovable Steve Spurrier.

In fact, the home visit with South Carolina's head coach didn't start off well at all. Jason writes:

Yolanda cooked chili and cornbread as the snow fell outside, however the dinner was initially a dud. Spurrier and Yolanda did not click right away, and Yolanda decided early that evening she did not want her to son to play under the lights in Columbia.

So what did Spurrier do? He turned up his charm (it's never off) about 1,000 levels and put the moves, quite literally, on Yolanda Lattimore.

Yet as the night went on she and Spurrier began to hit it off. All of a sudden, there was music, and the old coach soon found himself sliding to the left, sliding to the right, and taking it back now, y'all. "We were all in there trying to do the Cha Cha ," Spurrier recalls, referencing DJ Casper's novelty dance hit. His dancing was not particularly proficient, but it was successful. "After he did that," Marcus says now, rather enjoying the recollection of his coach's moves, "(mom) loved him to death."

(Wait, did you guys think Spurrier MADE OUT with Yolanda Lattimore? There are some sick bastards on this site.)

Let's go to the offical scorekeeper of my life for the ruling on what constitutes "put the moves on." From Urban Dictionary:

An attempt to ingratiate oneself with a member of the opposite (or not) sex; to show oneself at best advantage before such a person in the hope of closer acquaintance and possible seduction.

Yep, this qualifies. Think Spurrier puts so much work into his sweet dance moves for anything other than "closer acquaintance?"

No way. When it comes to wooing Mrs. Spurrier and the mothers of particularly good recruits, the Head Ball Coach's swag knows no bounds.

The granddad bod -- it's simply irresistible. 

(Note: I highly encourage you to read Jason' full piece on Lattimore. It's superb. Also, the photo above is from a workout The State's Jason Kendall did with Spurrier. If you haven't watched the video from that, you must do so now.)

Teddy Mitrosilis works in content production at FOX Sports Digital. Follow him on Twitter @TMitrosilis and email him at tmitrosilis@gmail.com.