It’s impossible to see a social media post from the Prairie View A&M football account without #DOG attached since Tremaine Jackson arrived on ‘The Hill.’ The ‘DOG’ acronym has followed Jackson to every head coaching stop in his career.
Jackson got the idea during a hike in the Colorado mountains when the pandemic hit. Eight months into his tenure, he was receiving calls from high school coaches and their players who were in panic mode because there had been no visits. Each coach told him how their kid needed to be signed because he had that “dog” in him, which led Jackson to ponder what kind of dog he wanted his coaches to find.
“Three things came to mind as I thought about how I’d define a guy that has that ‘DOG’ in him – being disciplined, having obedience, and having a lot of grit,” Jackson said. “Those are the guys we need to change the program, and it kind of stuck.”
Discipline. Obedience. Grit.
When Jackson returned to Colorado Mesa’s weight room, he posted a picture of an angry black cane corso with a white streak on its chest. But ‘DOG’ has another meaning for the Houston native, who has relied on his faith throughout his life. That ‘DOG’ is a semordnilap that spells god only added meaning for Jackson when spelled backward.
“Growing up in my neighborhood, a black cane corso was the toughest dog out there,” Jackson said. “That was the kind of house that when you walk by, you made a curve into the street to get away from the gate because you didn’t know if that dog would come through the gate and bite you. That’s what I wanted our team to exemplify. God has always been the center for me, so the acronym hit twofold for me.”
According to AI Overview, the cane corso is known for being a large, powerful, and dominant breed with a strong instinct to protect its family. These dogs are recommended to have a large living area with a backyard to protect.
Jackson and his staff routinely tell recruits that being a ‘DOG’ is what it takes to be one of them. It’s the foundation for everything in and around his program.
“It’s the basis for everything we do. If you don’t exemplify those three things, we’re not going to hire or sign you. You can’t be in our building,” Jackson said. “And if you were in the building when we got here, you need to quickly show us that you identify as a dog, or I’m going to try and move you away from the program.”
Like a cane corso, Jackson is very protective of his football program. He doesn’t allow anyone to speak to the team whose words don’t align with what he tells the players, and he says they are a “parentally run” program, pointing out that a parent wouldn’t want a stranger correcting their child at the grocery store. Or, as he more pointedly said, “We don’t negotiate with children.” He carries a blunt approach when recruiting.
“We don’t wine and dine guys in recruiting. We give it to you straight up because I don’t have time to de-recruit you,” Jackson said. “You’re not going to catch me on Twitter with my hat backward and dancing on the 360 with guys. Brian Kelly did that, and he ain’t won a championship yet.”
Jackson recalls telling Colorado Mesa’s administration they would beat rival and national power Colorado School of Mines the following season. The administration believed in Jackson and scheduled the Orediggers for homecoming.
“I didn’t say schedule them for homecoming. I just said we were going to win, and we ended up beating the No. 3 team in the country (Mines) for a program that had never beaten a team in the top-5. That win got me to Valdosta State.”
Jackson struggled in his first season with the Blazers, and some boosters called for his firing midway through the season. Many didn’t know Valdosta’s enrollment was down, fees were low, and the football program funded only 17 of the maximum 36 scholarships.
“We didn’t have any scholarship money, so I tried something different. I don’t like players to wear jewelry on the field, so I said they could wear jewelry during the game if they didn’t wear it during the week,” Jackson recalled. “That was dumb of Tremaine Jackson. We didn’t perform on gameday, and once you make a deal, you can’t go back on it because you’ll lose everybody.”
Jackson promised the boosters he would return to his ‘DOG’ mentality during a meeting of the Blazer Backers Club.
“I stood up and told them we’re going to win here because our kids are going to change. I’m going back to being me, and you’ll want me to stay before I’m done,” Jackson said. “I told them they could fire me, but I’d go a school that’s on their schedule and come back and beat them.”
Valdosta won 25 of 28 games during the next two seasons, with an appearance in the NCAA Division II national championship game in McKinney in December. The Blazers' success made Jackson a popular candidate for FCS head coach openings. However, he knew he was the right guy for PVAMU because many in the administration and fan base noted a lack of discipline in the program.
“I told (PVAMU) AD (Anton) Goff that if discipline is your problem, then you have no choice but to bring me here because if you have animals, I have a zookeeper’s license,” Jackson said. “We’re headed in the right direction because we have the right people from our AD to our president.”
Becoming a ‘DOG’ is comparable to entering a military boot camp. Jackson has been known to make the entire team military crawl the length of a football field if a personal foul is committed. Eventually, players stop committing personal fouls.
“Some days, we take the dog for a walk, so we get off the field and jog around campus because we’re taking the dog for a walk. Other days, we take the dog to the park, which means we’re running stadium steps,” Jackson said. “We’ve taken this ‘DOG’ thing much further than I anticipated because it’s really who we are and how we get our team ready between the offseason and fall camp.”
Jackson has never lost a season-opening game during his five seasons as a head coach, which he credits to ‘DOG’ training.
“We open up fall camp at midnight with dog training because a dog training session is not a practice,” Jackson said. “We get everybody going right away, and to see the faces of those big fellas when they understand the work they just signed up for is one of best times in my life.”
Jackson has developed a sixth sense of sorts when it comes to success.
“Heading into Year 6 of being a head coach, I might never know what success looks like, but I know what it sounds like,” Jackson said. “Success has a sound, and winning has a rhythm. When I hear that rhythm, I know we’re going to win.”
Prairie View sincerely hopes he hears the sound of success in the 2025 season.
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