Upon Further Review (Week 3)

I know, I know.  I just posted my Week 2 Review and Week 3 is already gone.  Sue me.  Or, better yet, pay me the big bucks to write these things and they'll always be on time.  Or, almost always.

Don't Forget. I Was Right

It is the solemn duty of every alleged sports writer to remind his faithful readers every time his predictions come true, and to never again mention the predictions that backfire.  Since I believe in solemn duties, I am choosing now to remind you that, when I discussed (here) the fact that the alleged Notre Dame Mystique no longer exists, I challenged readers to try to convince me that Notre Dame would start the season off with anything better than a 3-3 record.

Well, the Fleeing Irish are now 1-2, and the next three weeks have them playing #16 Stanford and then at Boston College, followed by a home game against Pittsburgh.  You do the math. 

Just remember I told you so...

Baby Gators

Since I have a strong University of Florida heritage, you'll get a moderate dose of Gator news here.  Hey, if you don't like it, find a Seminole blog somehwere.  Surely, there are at least one or two of them that know how to spell.

Anyway...

As if any of you need another reason to worry, here is something that should scare everyone but Gator fans. 

As I pointed out here, the Gators played more freshman in their first game than any other team in the country.

Here is some complicated math courtesy of the Gainesville Sun following the Tennessee game:

Of the 70 players who made the trip to Knoxville 43 are underclassmen, 21 were on their first road trip and 19 played in their first road game.

The Knoxville News-Sentinel did the math this way: 41% of the players standing on the Florida sideline in Neyland Stadium were either freshman or redshirt freshman.

Note to the rest of the nation:  this Gator team may struggle to get victories this season, but they'll get a bunch.  Next year, watch out.

Conference Call

You'd pretty much have to be an idiot to think that there is a better college football conference in the land than the SEC. There is just too much evidence - objective, subjective and circumstantial.

ESPN.com's Ivan Maisel recently wrote a little more about that subject here.  But there is a subtle nuance that often goes unmentioned, although I'm sure the athletic director at every SEC school knows all about it.  Maisel points out that there are seven SEC football stadiums with a capacity of over 80,000 (no other conference has more than four stadiums that big), and those stadiums are filled to an average of 98% of capacity on game days.  Think of all those seats, all those fans, paying for tickets.

When you combine that with fanatical booster support, merchandise and licensing income, TV revenues, and the payouts the league has collected from having put teams in BCS bowl games eighteen times since 1999, what that means is, in addition to speed, skill and talent, SEC teams have lots of money for nice things.  Nice things attract new recruits.  And new fans.  And new TV contracts.  And on-the-field success.  And more national championships.  And, thus, the cycle repeats itself.


Instant Chuckle:

With Tebow, We Are Witnessing History

Saturday afternoon, when I walked into Ben Hill Griffin Stadium at Florida Field, I knew I was about to be part of something special, but I didn’t really know how to define it. It was a feeling for which I had yet to find the right words, but the first thing I saw put it into perspective. Stadium cameras captured the image of a woman holding a sign, and the picture appeared on the giant video screens in each endzone: “We are witnessing history.”

It was Senior Day, the final home game for twenty-four Gators whose accomplishments will be scattered in Southeastern Conference and college football record books for years to come. And it was the last hurrah for Tim Tebow, the quarterback whose own tears as he was introduced before the game prompted an outpouring from tens of thousands of adoring fans. I might not have believed it if I hadn’t seen it myself. After my eyes dried up.

I didn’t say much to anybody during the game. The 37-10 drubbing of arch rival Florida State didn’t really require audience participation. The outcome was never in doubt. I clapped quite a bit, cheered occasionally. Mostly, I watched. I looked around. I soaked it in.

During the second half, each time the Gator offense lined up for a play, little points of bright, white light exploded everywhere in the crowd. First dozens, then hundreds. The flash bulbs of those wanting to capture the memories.

Like most of the 90,907 people in attendance, I stayed until well after the game was over. Even Seminole fans lingered. Moments like that don’t happen too often.

Tim Tebow has endured more scrutiny than anyone his age should. His late-September concussion attracted media attention like no other sports-related injury ever. Some fans at opposing schools have even come to despise his constant presence in print and on television. They question his Christianity, insisting it is just for show. Surely, there is a different Tebow in there somewhere, one that is just like so many high-profile athletes; greedy, selfish, flawed. Surely, he is just using the limelight for his own gain. If not, how could he end up on ESPN so often?

I’ll tell you how. Because he is such a good story.

Tebow seeks the light, but not that kind of light. He is as competitive as any athlete I have ever seen, but he still wants you to realize there is more to life than just winning games. He is a young man who refuses to compromise in an age when everything is negotiable. He wants to help make the world a better place in an age when people have a hard time believing anyone could really want such a thing. If there are Tebow haters out there, it is not because they don’t want to be constantly reminded of what he is, but because they don’t want to be constantly reminded of what they aren’t.

If I stood for anything when I was twenty-two, it was probably my right to wear obscenely torn blue jeans, and not visit the barber as often as I should. Mission trip to the Phillipines? Not likely. Visiting prisoners? Or sick kids in the hospital?  Sorry. Try again.


I am not someone who has strong religious convictions, and I am not claiming to agree with everything he preaches, but I respect the fact that, for him, it’s not an act. It’s genuine. He lives according to his beliefs. And he cares in a way that few people ever bother to. In the Gator Nation, he has really made a difference.  Head coach Urban Meyer said, "I've never seen anything like it. He's made ‘unselfish’ kind of a cool thing."

So, Gator fans, myself included, stayed on Senior Day to watch Tebow make the rounds of the stadium wall one more time, wanting to give back some of what we have been given. It was worth the wait.

Even though he has won a Heisman Trophy, and been part of teams that won two SEC championships and two national championships, he is not the best athlete ever. He is not even the best quarterback ever, at least in terms of pure physical skill. But he may the best ever at pushing the people around him to be better. On the field. And off.

It will be interesting to see where Tebow ends up when his college career is over. Wherever he goes, we'll be watching.

After all, we are witnessing history.