College > Pro: The Stakes

I am often asked, particularly in the bleak days after the Mythical National Championship game when college ball gears up for Signing Day while pro players hit the field in those interminable playoff games, what sort of heretic am I that eschews the ‘superior’ form of the game? After all, that’s where all the talent is. It’s akin to saying, “No thanks, I don’t think I’ll go see Kristen Chenoweth on Broadway tonight. I’ve got tickets for Podunk College’s mounting of You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown.”

Not so fast, my friend, as Lee Corso says. In this upcoming series, College Ball > Pro Ball, I explain why pro ball will never near the inner sanctum of my heart in which college ball resides.

But first, I must lay some philosophical groundwork. We must each ask ourselves, “Why do I watch football?” For some, it’s a pastime, a light diversion to pass away time on evenings or weekends. These are the same people who believe movies are “just entertainment,” and for them the act of viewing is their final destination. For this group of people, college or pro ball is completely fungible and none of my arguments will be in the least persuasive.

Others, such as myself, load upon football a host of socio-existential symbolism. It’s a way of not only making sense of the world, but interacting with it. For example, there is a definite truth in the saying, “Yankees invented football, but Southerners perfected it.” This bastardized form of rugby began emerging at just the time the South began emerging from the crippling sanctions of Reconstruction. The entire region suffered from the crippling triple blow of economic devastation, under-education, and social upheaval. Southerners still loved their homeland and needed something in which they could take pride and would allow them to succeed on a national stage.

The profiteers didn’t bring football with them in their detested carpetbags, but it trickled down from New England and the Midwest nonetheless. Southerners lunged at this opportunity like a quarterback sneak at the goal line. When schools like Alabama, Tennessee, and Georgia began beating the likes of Southern Cal and Michigan at their own game, literally, it became a rallying point. Perhaps these backwoods, backwards hicks had every disadvantage, but by God they were good at something.

That exultation that Southerners were finally being given positive publicity isn’t something you’ll find between any hashmarks or on the X’s and O’s chalkboard. These implications require more attention than an I’ll-watch-the-game-if-I’m-not-busy-attitude and imbue meaning into every aspect of the game. Because of that, the “game” is not four quarters of fifteen minutes apiece; it’s a constant, all day, every day vigil.

In the coming days I’ll be much more specific in my praise for the traditions of college ball. But the extrapolations thereof must always remain in mind. If Tennessee loses, it’s more than, “Oh, we lost and looked horrible, that sucks.” It’s, “We lost and looked terrible and have shamed our state and (especially if playing out of conference) our region. Now we’re going to have to work that much harder to be taken seriously in every aspect of national life.”

Conversely, the Western and Northern teams need football in an attempt to keep the South in its place. Outside of historical rivalries, those teams like nothing better to beat the SEC. It’s a twisted sense of pride in them as well.

So why do is college ball better than pro? First off, the stakes are much, much higher.

A Little Deviance

So I’m really not supposed to write about the NFL. It’s an inferior environment and outside my expertise. I don’t think I’ve watched a full game since the Giants beat the Patriots in the best Super Bowl ever. Really, the fact that that game was so incredible and will most likely never be topped has put a severe damper on my ability to sit through an entire pro game. But that does not account for the fact before that, I probably hadn’t seen a complete game in a couple seasons, not since I’d been using Sundays as remedial classes in my first years as a football fan.

Nonetheless, this article somewhat bridges the gap between the collegiate and pro athlete. The upcoming Super Bowl, in which I have a passing interest because I hate the Saints and basically like the Colts, will pit two smart cookies against each other. Betraying the meathead stereotype, both Peyton Manning and Drew Brees were recognized for their scholastic achievement in their college days by earning the National Football Foundation National Scholar-Athlete Award. Only one college football player can win the Trophy each year, and that one player can come from Division I-A, I-AA, II, III, or NAIA. In other words, it’s not a popularity contest, like the Heisman. This one actually means something.

So I’m psyched that the cerebral aspects of the game will be highlighted during the upcoming game. But I also want to take note of this: including Manning and Brees, five NFFNSAA winners have quarterbacked in a Super Bowl. The SEC formed two of them, more than any other conference. Those institutions? Tennessee and Mississippi.

Furthermore, there have been nineteen recipients since the rechristening of the Draddy Trophy to the William V. Campbell Trophy. Seven hail from the SEC, more than any other conference; the Big XII has graduated the next highest number at a paltry three.

Further-furthermore, only three schools produced more than one winner: Nebraska, Florida, and Tennessee.

Talk about breaking down stereotypes.

To Be or Not to Be

I hope to have the Mission running at normal speed by the weekend. One of my writing professors wisely said, "You only have so many words in you each day." This week, those words are going to prove that Hamlet is not a tragic hero. Between that and work, I've sadly forgotten to even post a RetroView.

So I beg your patience, and leave you with this Lane Kiffin news.

A Plague on Both Their Houses

Look, I try to be open minded. I try not to hate something just because it comes from west of the Mississippi. But things like this make it quite difficult.

Anyone who asserts, even jokingly, that Texas is "the real UT" will get a history lecture from me, that includes finger wagging and head bobbing in an almost violent manner. Whether you're my best friend doing it just to rile me up or a stranger who merely stepped on the hidden land mine, I will forcefully point out the University of Tennessee was founded before Texas's statehood, and the fact that Texas sued UT over the use of the interlocking UT galls me in ways I can't even describe. UT won the lawsuit, but then allowed Texas to buy the logo. I would have kept out of spite, but that's also why I'll never be a millionaire.

Anyway, the University of Southern California, who recently fell all over themselves trying to be established as "Southern Cal" rather than "USC" is now barring the University of South Carolina from using the interlocking SC. Rather, the courts are denying South Carolina the right at Southern Cal's insistence. Even though the courts dismissed South Carolina's claim to the logo because "16 other colleges use the letters “SC” to represent themselves," Southern Cal magically gets the trademark?

Hey, California, remember that time when the University of South Carolina was a school before you were a state? No? Perhaps that's because
you weren't a state yet.

A pox on these newbloods and their absconding with the riches of their more established betters.

RetroView: UT v Florida 2009

Now the Gators gathered their forces for war and assembled at the Swamp in Gainesville. Fulmer and the Volunteers assembled and camped in the Valley of Spurrier and drew up their defensive line to meet the Gators. The Gators occupied one locker room and the Volunteers another, with the field between them.

A champion named Tebow, who was from Ponte Verde Beach, came out of the Gator locker room. He was over nine feet tall. He had a bronze helmet on his head and wore shoulder pads of scale armor of bronze weighing the same as his tremendous ego; on his legs he wore bronze shin guards, and his bronze Heisman Trophy was slung on his back. His arm was like a weaver's rod, and its accuracy had made even LSU’s defense cry. His offensive line went ahead of him.

Tebow stood and shouted to the team from Tennessee, "Why do you come out and line up for battle? Am I not a living legend, and are you not the recruits of Phillip Fulmer? Choose a coach and have him come down to me. If he is able to fight and beat the line on this game, we will concede the victory; but if I overcome him and score more than thirty points, you will immediately declare us National Champions for life." Then the Gator said, "This day I defy the team from Tennessee! Give me a coach and let us fight each other." On hearing the Gator's words, all the Volunteer fans were dismayed and terrified.

Now Lane Kiffin was the son of a great defensive co-ordinator named Monte, who was from the Buccaneers of Tampa Bay. Now Monte said to his son Lane, "Take me with you, and Ed Orgeron, and hurry to Knoxville. Take along these inflammatory comments for the media. See how miserable the Vol fans are and let us bring some assurances to them. They are with Fulmer and all the co-ordinators with inert careers in the Valley of Spurrier, fighting against the Gators."

Early in the morning the Kiffins loaded up and set out. Lane reached the game as the team was going out to its kick-off positions, shouting the war cry, “Rocky Top.” Tennessee and the Gators were drawing up their lines facing each other. Lane Kiffin left his things with Dave Clawson, ran to the sidelines and greeted the fans. As he was talking with them, Tebow, the Gator champion from Ponte Verde Beach, stepped out from his lines and shouted his usual defiance, and Lane Kiffin heard it.

Now the Volunteers had been saying, "Do you see how this man keeps coming out? He comes out to defy Tennessee. Mike Hamilton will give great wealth to the man who overcomes the line on this game. He will also give him a contract extension and will exempt his father's family from taxes in Knoxville."

Lane Kiffin asked the fans standing near him, "What will be done for the man who beats the line on this game and removes this disgrace from Tennessee’s stats? Who is this low life Gator that he should defy the team of the greatest program in the SEC?"

They repeated to him what they had been saying and told him, "This is what will be done for the man who beats the line on the game."

When Fulmer, Tennessee’s corpulent coach, heard him speaking with the fans, he burned with anger at him and asked, "Why have you come down here? And with whom did you leave those few good Raiders in Oakland? I know how conceited you are and how wicked your heart is; you came down only to watch the massacre."

"Now what have I done?" said Lane Kiffin. "Can't I even speak?" He then turned away to John Chavis and brought up the same matter, and the co-ordinators answered him as had Fulmer. What Lane Kiffin said was overheard and reported to Mike Hamilton, and Mike Hamilton sent for him.

Lane Kiffin said to Mike Hamilton "Let no one lose heart on account of this Gator; your servant will go and fight him."

Mike Hamilton replied, "You are not able to go out against this Gator and fight him; you are only thirty-four, and he has been a five star quarterback from his birth."

But Lane Kiffin said to Mike Hamilton, "Your servant has been coaching at USC. When a Buckeye or a Fighting Irish came and took the lead from my Trojans, I went after it, struck it and rescued the victory from its mouth. Your servant has defeated both the Buckeye and the Fighting Irish; this lowlife Gator will be like one of them, because he has defied the greatest program in the SEC. The offensive schemes which have delivered me from losses to the Buckeye and the Fighting Irish will let me beat the line on the game with this Gator." Mike Hamilton said to Lane Kiffin, "Go, and your offensive schemes be with you."

Then Mike Hamilton showed Lane Kiffin his quarterback. Lane Kiffin fastened his resolve and tried to teach Johnathan Crompton how to pass, but it was no use. "I cannot play him," he said to Mike Hamilton, "because he is no good." But no alternative was provided. Then he took the highest paid staff in the nation, chose Eric Berry, Montario Hardesty, and eleven true freshmen from the depth chart, restructured all his schemes to accommodate Johnathan Crompton and, with his play chart over his mouth, approached the Gator.

Meanwhile, the Gator, with his offensive line in front of him, kept coming closer to Lane Kiffin. He looked Lane Kiffin over and saw that he was only thirty four, blonde and handsome, and he despised him. He said to Lane Kiffin, "Am I a two star recruit, that you come at me with freshmen?" And the Gator cursed Lane Kiffin by the memories of 30-6 and 50-29 . "Come here," he said, "and I'll give your flesh to the Florida fans in the Swamp!"

Lane Kiffin said to the Gator, "You come against me with a Heisman trophy and strength and time outs, but I come against you in the name of the best program in the SEC, the team from Tennessee, whom you have defied. This day my offensive schemes will hand you over to me, and I'll beat the line on this game and force a turnover. Today I will give the egos of the Gator team to the Volunteer fans in the Swamp, and the whole world will know that there is a new coach at Tennessee. All those gathered here will know that it is not by Heisman or time outs that the game is won; for the true victory is Tennessee’s, and you will fall into our trap of sensationalism."

As the Gator moved closer to the end zone, Lane Kiffin’s team ran quickly toward the blockers to meet him. Reaching into his depth chart and taking out Eric Berry, he slung Berry into the game and Berry slammed the Gator into the ground. The ball popped out of his hands and was recovered by Dennis Rogan. Each of Tebow’s turnovers resulted in points for the team from Tennessee.

So Lane Kiffin triumphed over the Gator with Eric Berry, Montario Hardesty, and eleven freshmen; without a quarterback in the pocket, he beat the line on the game and humiliated the Gator.

RetroView: UT vs Alabama '09

The work that pays my bills is standing in the way of my work at the Mission, so I'm afraid I'm going to have to recycle some material. On occasion, we'll take a walk down memory lane using my write-ups of past games. And the ones from last season will be most interesting in light of recent events.

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Who is Tennessee’s greatest rival? While several answers will be posited, there is only one best answer: Alabama. Since the first meeting between the Tide and the Vols in 1901, few rivalries have matched the Third Saturday in October.

Some rivalries may be older, like the Lone Star Showdown between Texas and Texas A&M. Some may be more prominent in the media, like the River Red Showdown between Oklahoma and Texas. Some may be more heated. After all, the state House of Representatives has never had to suspend the series because of constant violent outbursts as has happened to Alabama/Auburn.

But no rivalry can touch the Alabama/Tennessee series in terms of respect. Both programs are among the winningest in the nation with a history of employing exemplary coaches. For years, both teams were coached by men with ties to the program, who lived the importance of the game, and came back year after year for another chance at winning the most significant game of the season. Because of that, the hatred was tempered by respect for the tradition of the other program.

In recent years, to the chagrin of all involved, the rivalry has lost its luster. This is partly due to down years at Bama, followed by down years at Tennessee. More fault can be placed on the expansion of the SEC. Dividing the conference into East and West has placed more emphasis on the Alabama/Auburn and Tennessee/Florida games. But most of the blame lies on the off field controversy regarding Phillip Fulmer’s handling of Bama’s alleged recruiting practices.

That was a turning point in the series. A good old fashioned rivalry was dragged through the mud on its way to courtrooms. The resulting sanctions severely damaged Bama’s cache, and turned Fulmer into the most hated man in the state. They accused him of being a low life snitch, and Fulmer continued to accuse Alabama of being low life cheaters. The respect and civility that had defined the series devolved into outright, bitter hatred.

The recent coaching changes in both programs opened the opportunity to return the rivalry to its former glory, and Lane Kiffin embraced the chance. To the disappointment of the media, the “Mouth of the South” had nothing but courteous comments about Saban, going so far as to admit he was using the Tide as a model for rebuilding UT’s program. Both teams fought a clean, traditional, smashmouth battle on the field. Afterwards, the coaches civilly shook hands, and even the opposing quarterbacks shared a moment. Fans can mark this date as yet another turning point in the storied, century old series.

Saturday’s game might have been a loss for Tennessee, but it was a win for the rivalry.

Latest Lane Kiffin/Urban Meyer News

So I've embarked on an MLK vacation featuring spotty internet service. I was able to snag some, though, to share these two bits with you.

• If you thought what Kiffin did to the players was shady, at least he talked to them. The assistants he's not stealing learned about his departure the way all us mortals did.


• Urban Meyer had a prophesy. Or at least, he told recruit Floyd Sharrif that he (Meyer) had a dream in which Meyer was on the sideline coaching Sharrif; this was a sign Meyer should return to coaching, and if the stress kills him, at least he'll die happy. This was an effective pitch, prompting Sharrif to say, "Ohio State's great and all, but Coach Meyer said he would DIE for me. That's pretty intense."

I hope it's a quiet weekend, what with recruiting going live tomorrow. Even if not, I'm leaving the mission in good hands.

Coach Dooley, Between the Checkerboards

Let's compare my requirements with the coach Mike Hamilton found; clearly, I have pull with the athletic department.

Coach found: Derek Dooley, most recently of Louisiana Tech. When asked if he ever imagined he'd be going head to head against his mentor, Nick Saban, he replied, "I hoped so." Known for handling his team and himself with dignity and class. Expresses his opinon the SEC is the top and that Tennessee is a destination job; has the accent to support this opinion. Son of famed Georgia coach Vince Dooley. Vouched for by Nick Saban, Terry Bradshaw, and Joseph Addai. Stable career, accepting only promotions and making no lateral moves. Soundbites:
1. I'm not going to sell this program in a sound bite. (Oh, nicely played.)
2. I’m sure if I’d stayed with Nick Saban, I would have been a more popular candidate for this position, but I’m certain by doing what I did [accepting the head coaching position at LA Tech], I’m a more qualified candidate.
3. I was only there two years, you know. We’re talking more about the Dolphins than Tennessee.
4. When I got a text from Mike just asking if I was interested, first off, I was glad I could text.
5. This isn’t my program. It’s been here a long time and it’ll be here long after I’m gone.

I forgot to add the qualified candidate must look good in orange, and oh my...he does (I eagerly anticipate being able to put up a proper picture). Welcome to Rocky Top, Coach Dooley. We're so excited to have you!

Who Do I Want for Coach?

Coach needed. Must be truly competitive and willing to work hard for big rewards. Ability to run a disciplined, no nonsense team a must. Experience with big league southern football a plus. Perks: be adored by passionate-but-not-completely crazy fans in a supportive community (after they warm up to you); road on campus will be named for you after your first SEC championship win. Please include a resume demonstrating some degree of loyalty to previous employers, three references who can speak to your recruiting and rebuilding abilities, and five pithy sound bites appropriate for repeated broadcast. NFL coaches need not apply.

Since Muschamp has apparently turned us down (please God, don’t let us be the next USC) there aren’t any names being floated that jazz me. Rumor has it, we’re undesirable because it’s going to be a tough row to hoe, what with playing in the toughest conference with absolutely no talent (thanks Fulmer and Kiffin). But isn’t that pretty much a dream job? Yeah, it’ll be rough going at first. But if you actually build us back, you’ll be deified. A generation of children will be named after you, as will roads, buildings…anything you want. You’ll be memorialized in stadium displays and athletic center trophy cases.

More importantly, you’ll have something to be proud of. I get that if you stay at Air Force or move to USC, your job will be *easier*, but is it worth it? When you look in the mirror, what are you proud of?

Brief and Cut Short, Like Kiffin's Career

The following is a draft I’d started yesterday, before being distracted by phone calls regarding “the more recent late unpleasantness” as a friend delicately described the situation. I’m no longer feeling inclined to finish it, but thought I’d share the beginnings anyway. Mostly so I could throw in the link about the student riots.

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We’re heading into the twenty-fourth hour since Kiffin’s shocking announcement and the smoke is starting to clear from the burning mattresses (I’m the proudest UT alum you’ll ever meet, but seriously? I don’t know why we feel compelled to burn mattresses at large provocations. Where do we get all these mattresses?). The anger is subsiding into wary wonder at who will be the next to take our helm.

Before we discuss the future, let’s discuss the past. The visceral, violent reaction might seem out of proportion to his offense. Sure, it’s totally trashy and shady to leave a team after a mere year. It’s even worse to do it just three weeks before signing day. But we all have dream jobs, and are you going to turn yours down just because of ill-fated timing?

No, but here’s what gets our goat. Or mine, shall I say. I’ll be uncharacteristically modest and not presume to speak for the entirety of VolNation. No one likes to be duped, but that’s exactly what happened. After so many years suffering under the pasty, bland leadership of a doughboy like Fulmer, I fell for the charms of a bad boy. Even then, I knew it was a risk, hiring a mercenary coach. An outsider with no loyalty to the SEC and no ties except a fat contract. I ignored my misgivings because of his energy, his….passion is not the word for it- but the way he was able to revigorate the fanbase.

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I don’t know where I was heading this, other than: no one likes being duped, and that’s exactly what I was.

Roughest "Monday" Ever

Kiffin, I've been behind you since before you were our head coach. I've rationalized every decision and questionable move you've made. I've defended everything about you from your playcalling to the naming of your kids. I boarded the "Lane Train" before it was cool, and now you're driving it to California.

It's absolutely heartbreaking to lose a coach who single handedly revived the spirit of our languishing program in just over one year. It's devestating that not only will our bare-bones team lose most of its best recruits, we're losing most of our coaching staff. We're being left in the hands of a man named Kippy.

But if Kiffin taught me anything, it's not to fly off the handle when you're feeling emotional. So I'll refrain from further commenting and leave you with words immortalized by Garth Brooks:

And now I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end
The way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance
I could have missed the pain
But I'd've had to miss
The dance

Oh, Ivan Maisel

I love Ivan Maisel. I really do and have never disagreed with word he's written. Or rather, with a word he's written that I have read. Who else is going to bemoan the Inspector Javerts of college football? But in this same article, I have to question his...well, question.

Whatever the reason, Carroll decided to stop climbing, and that's what bothers me. Why would he want to leave the field now?

Umm, perhaps because he wants to do better by USC than Fulmer did by UT?

Goodbye, Welcome Back

Goodbye, goodbye:

1. Jim Leavitt. Even though the allegations against you were way worse than those against Mike Leach, you nabbed barely a headline. Even when you finally got fired.
2. Pete Carroll. Going back to the NFL. We’ll see how that works out for you.

Welcome back:
1. Charlie Weiss. Not really “back” since he’ll laboring under the muted lights of the NFL. And he’s not even head coaching. But in this economy, any job is worth it, I reckon
2. Tommy Tuberville. Were I him, I’d be off-put by the fact my biggest selling point was not costing my new employer a buy out. But, again, in this economy…
3. Urban Meyer. Or are we not supposed to have the proof you prefer puppetmaster to coach?

Price Check on Waterford Crystal...

So Alabama’s national championship trophy, normally enshrined in the private hallways of athletic departments, is headed to…WalMart.

I love this. First of all, it plays in to every possible stereotype. Everyone’s first reaction, including mine, has been, “Only in Alabama…” It’s white trash and does betray a certain lack of class.

On the other hand, it’s genius. Why not let the fans spend some time with their hard earned reward? Sure, it’s the players that go to practice and actually battle it out on the field. But most of them are there for three or four years and move onto the pros or careers in real estate and insurance. It’s the fan base that has weathered the long term ups and downs. It’s the fan base that provides the financial support (not just through ticket sales, but also merchandising and watching televised games that enable plum contracts). And the fan base also puts in blood, sweat, and tears for every game.

Six presidents were inaugurated behind closed doors, with only the elite invited. But who voted those presidents into office? Andrew Jackson opened the White House to the people. Sure, it was ill advised and a disaster. But it was important to legitimize the power of the people.

Congratulations, Alabama.

Roll Tide!

So I might have missed almost every pick 'em this post-season, but at least I got the most important one. Real life is sadly stealing from me the time for a proper reflection, so you'll have to settle for this expose on Colt McCoy in the interim.

Football's Closing Day

I don't expect the game to be this close, but if it comes down to field goals, it's a Bama victory; they've beaten the real UT numerous times like that. Sad to this season end, but let's go out on a high note.

Roll Tide- the hopes of all SEC teams are met in you tonight.



(Thanks mosesxan for the image.)

Rough Monday Extremely Belated Edition

The post-season has wound up being more exciting than the regular, on and off the field. And even if all these events didn’t happen exactly on Monday, and I’m not even posting this on Monday, we’re calling it good enough.

1. Urban Meyer resigned, then un-resigned, then kinda resigned, then said he’ll come back after recruiting season. I’m still not convinced he’s coming back.
2. After being one of Kentucky’s most successful coaches, Rich Brooks decided to call it quits. For real quits, no takie-backsies. I’m sorry to see him go, but he came way too close to beating us for comfort.
3. Mike Leach was the subject of one of the bizarrest, nastiest firings in college football history. I’ve listened to both sides, and, though not enamored with the man in any fashion, his makes the most sense. Whatever happened, it’ll all come out during the lawsuit. It won’t be good for Leach, James, or the university.

I hope I haven’t left anyone out of the graveyard, if for no other reason than I’ m running out of plots.

B-B-Bowls

In today’s edition I log another complaint against the bowl system.

Let’s review the BCS’s critical argument in favor of keeping the bowl system unaltered: it’s tradition. And yeah, football fans love their tradition. I get it.

But let’s remember that tradition was to get fans to visit warm places on their Christmas break. This means bowling in California, Florida, and to lesser extents, Louisiana, Texas, and Arizona.

The tradition is not chattering your tail off in Memphis, Nashville, Detroit, Boise, or Toronto, all of which forced fans and players to perform in sub-freezing temperatures. I could list another handful of bowl sites that were miserable yet above thirty-two degrees. Barely.

It is absolutely no fun to go to a game in which all you can think about is how cold you are. The cheering is minimal, there is no jumping up and down, and forget clapping. Even if you decide to move your hands, which means dropping the blanket that is protecting your face from the wind chill, you won’t make any noise with those oh-so-necessary gloves on. At this year’s Music City Bowl, I wasn’t rooting for Kentucky or Clemson; I was rooting for the clock.

Despite watching the other chilly games from the comfort of toasty hotel rooms and loved ones’ houses, I couldn’t entirely enjoy them for empathizing with the fan-sicles who had traveled who knows how long to watch their team lose.

Also, what is there to do in these places? Sure Nashville is a tourist destination for a particular contingent of our society. Birmingham, Detroit, Mobile…there are certainly interesting attractions there. But since they’re not tourist hot spots, nothing is open during bowl season! There is no reason for fans to travel for a leisurely visit lasting a few days. Especially due to the increasing regional-ization of the bowl system (which I’ll complain about in the future) it's get there, go to the game, hurry back home because there’s no reason to waste money on a hotel down here.

If you can burrow through all that complaining, I hope you see the real argument. The tradition is for bowls to be in warm, vacation destinations where fans will want to spend a few extra days enjoying their well-deserved time off. The recent spate of bowls is an abhorrent break from that and renders the BCS’s argument about preserving bowl tradition as utterly meaningless as the post-season itself.

Pits at the Peach?

Of course I’m disappointed with our loss. Of course I wanted, nay- expected, to win. Of course I’m not happy with the events that went down last night.

But it wasn’t inexplicable. Like one poster on VolNation pointed out: a ranked team beat an unranked team? Shocker. But more than that, last night wasn’t a shoddy effort on anyone’s part. It wasn’t a ‘we wanted a better bowl’ let down, or a ‘we weren’t ready to play even though this team is inferior to ours in every way.’ It was a beat down, it was painful to watch, but there are extenuating circumstances to be addressed.

Please note: the following are not excuses. Any of the following can be, and have been, overcome. But that shouldn’t give free reign to beat up on the Vols and disregard their efforts this season or this game.

This year’s Peach Bowl was an utter mismatch. Conferences that have divisions make it tricky to easily rank the standings, so for the sake of transparency, here’s how I determined it: I scooted over to ESPN and ranked by conference record. In the case of a tie, I used overall record. If the tie remained (or if there was an extra loss due to a bowl game), I used bowl game prestige to break the tie. In that system, the Peach Bowl put SEC 5 against ACC 2. That’s not great parity to begin with. But let’s throw this in: Virginia Tech was #11 in the nation; Tennessee hasn’t been ranked since the 2008 preseason. To shed some further light, Coach Beamer has been with the Hokies since 1987 and the last staffing change was made in 2005; the Vols are helmed by a brand spanking new coach not just to our program, but college ball overall and has had major staffing changes every season since 2005. Oh, and UT is starting a slew of walk-ons and freshmen (many on the offensive line) against a team that lost one player from its Orange Bowl Championship team. Forgive me if I’m not willing to wail and gnash my teeth over this loss.

Furthermore, it gave us a look into our future. The players who will be graduating or drafted were practically non-factors in the game. Vol fans, and more importantly coaches, saw exactly where the holes that need desperate filling are. We were forced to contend with how little talent and depth we have. Next year could be Lane Kiffin starring as the little Dutch boy at the dyke.

However, we also saw how much heart we have. Not enough to overcome the mismatch, but enough to be playing from whistle to whistle. Last year, the game would have been over when we got down by two scores, and the final could have easily been 30-3. But the team fought back earning every bit of the fourteen points we scored, and never gave up. Even with less than a minute left, down by twenty-one points, every player was giving their all. As a fan who has sat through too many games where I cared more about the outcome than most everyone on the field, the effort on every play is the buoy to my currently sunken spirits.

Lane Kiffin is honest about how far we have to go. He never throws a player under the bus, but he never ignores our mistakes either. He’s preparing the fans for whatever is to come, and knows the work we have to do. He also knows the work ethic that will be required from the players. He’ll be on the road Monday, recruiting those respectable, talented, persevering, team players to represent our university.

Our season is over, but our hopes have just begun.

Jonathan's Crompton Fairy Tale

Poor Cinderella had always wanted to go to the ball. To be loved, admired, adored like her predecessors. Not laboring under the insurmountable, changing-by-the-moment chores of her stepmother. Not listening to the complaints and jeers of her stepsisters. Not spurned, underfoot, her ashen face forgotten.

Enter the fairy godmother on a west wind. Who dresses her up, teaches her tricks, takes her to the ball, gives her a shot with the prince.

Jubiltation! She dances, twirls, spot on. Tastes every bit of her fantasy come true.

The clock strikes midnight. No magic left. Her beautiful clothes melt, her arms bare in the wind, her footwork no longer fancy. The glitter descends on someone else, she is alone scraping used confetti off the turf.