(Originally published 12/9/07)
50-48 #7: TEBOWED
Dear Tim Tebow, You are the J.J. Reddick of college football, and I pray to merciful god you write poetry. But, alas, you probably don't. The reason we hate Tim Tebow—deep down—is the same reason we hate J.J. Reddick: he is good at what he does, and he does not play for Arkansas. I saw all of Darren's games this season (whether live or on Hogwired replays). He looked borderline godlike against South Carolina and LSU. He was great in other games. But there were times when he struggled. (Kudos to Bobby Vickers for pointing this out, adamantly, stubbornly sticking to his guns as I protested, blinded by my crush on our powerful running back.) But let's be honest. It wasn't Darren's pedestrian games that lost him the Heisman Trophy. It was Hootie. Hootie is the reason we lost four games. Had we won TWO of them, Darren would have hoisted the trophy last night. (Darren won the highest ever percentage of votes for a runner-up.) Don't like that analysis? Try this: If Hootie hadn't run off the author of one of the best hurry-up, no-huddle paperbacks on the market, if he hadn't run off the quarterback who had the talent to make those plays come to life, then the offense wouldn't have been so one-dimensional. There wouldn't have been eight in the box every time Darren took the ball. Opposing defenses wouldn't have treated Hootie's offensive gameplan like they were attempting to stop a Pop Warner team. And it is a shame. If for no other reason, Hootie should have been fired for this. Of course, throughout, Darren has taken the high road and supported his head coach. This is understandable. What else would you suspect from this badass? That photo doesn't do it for you? How's about this video, a celebration not of the Heisman Trophy winner, but of the best SEC running back since Bo Jackson. It is criminal that this man was not awarded the Hesiman Trophy. But remember! Tim Tebow did not steal it from him. Tim Tebow's jorts-loving, meth-addicted fans did not steal it from him. The sheep (i.e. voters) who don't really watch football, but have their agendas dictated to them by Disney-Sport (espn) didn't steal it from him. The robber is just one state over, texting furiously somewhere in or around Oxford, Mississippi. Faulkner is rolling over in his grave. Faulkner is probably gathering a zombie army in hell to come back to Oxford and punish the "university" and its town for sins greater than those of Miss Emily Grierson. The "university," at least, should have known better.
But if that weren't a large enough pill to swallow, WE STILL DON'T HAVE A FOOTBALL COACH! I wasn't really a fan of Jim Grobe, as the emergency updates this week will have certainly indicated, but I was willing to come around. The Broyles Center, the Board of Trustees, Jeff Long, and, IN PARTICULAR, Concentrated Evil (john white) have turned us into a laughing stock. I was certain, as I typed this update last weekend, that I would be writing this week's update as a celebration of our new coach. But no. Pwned. Over and over and over. (Brief digression here: how impressed are you that I know the word "pwned"? I'm so hip, it's scary.)
The rumors have been flying fast and furious. The powers that be have covered their asses by hiring a search firm to assist in the process. As it stands now, the viable candidates are as follows: Will Muschamp (defensive coordinator, Auburn—not only has no head coaching experience, but also publicly called us motherfuckers earlier this season), Brent Venables (defensive coordinator, Oklahoma—also no head coaching experience, but friendly with Long because of his time at Soonerville), Norm Chow (offensive coordinator, Tennessee Titans—again, no head coaching experience, also really old, also never recruited the area), Bobby Petrino (head coach, Atlanta Falcons—rumors of NCAA violations and culture of moral leniency during his time at Louisville, though these rumors as of yet have no substantial proof), and Gus (offensive coordinator, Tulsa—Zarathustra himself).
{There are, I should note, less viable candidates, as well: Charlie Strong, defensive coordinator, Florida; Skip Holtz, head coach, East Carolina; Brian Kelly, head coach, Cincinnati. Holtz is less viable because of the way his father was unceremoniously fired by Frank years ago. Kelly is less viable because he has never recruited the South and is also a top candidate for the Michigan job. Strong compares very favorably to the viable candidates above, but is almost never mentioned in the same breath. Because he's black? Because of the possibility that Arkansas fans will become jorts-wearing meth addicts? Because it's Urban Meyer's offense that really makes the wheel go round for the Gators? I don't know. But here's some important information: not only did Strong graduate from UCA, but he RECEIVED HIS MASTERS DEGREE FROM HENDERSON STATE UNIVERSITY ! This automatically makes him a genius. Other notable Henderson grads, full of heaven-bestowed Reddie Spirit? Gus Freaking Malzahn and Thomas Freaking Aiello. [And when you click on the second Reddie link ("Spirit") be sure to click on the television when you get to the site. You WILL NOT be disappointed.] If we're not going to put any bigger names on the list than those above, Strong should be included.}
As I bounce these names back and forth, trying to shake out some pseudo-wisdom, I find almost nothing. For most of the week, I thought along these lines:
If the choice IS NOT Gus—and rumor says it will not be—it REALLY needs to be Petrino. What we need now is a name. We DON'T NEED (as many are crying, desperately) someone who REALLY WANTS TO BE HERE, who LOVES ARKANSAS. We need someone who only wants the MONEY. Because if they are in a position to make those demands, they have a track record of success, championship rings, recruiting, et al. (see Bobby Petrino, and possibly "motherfucker"). We don't need him to be here for long. But you take the up-and-comer AFTER you take the big name. (This is tantamount to the Marxist theory of communism versus the Leninist theory of communism, and the entire history of the twentieth century has demonstrated that though neither of them was right, Marx was MORE RIGHT than Lenin.) This program is in SHAMBLES! We need a QUICK FIX! We need the kind of hire that will shock the wags at Disney-Sport! That will make us RELEVANT! We have been waiting on a fixer-upper project for 5 LONG YEARS! This isn't basketball. We don't have the final fours and Todd Day and Lee Maybury and everyone else. We don't have a deep team waiting for the next coach. NOBODY REMEMBERS 1964, AND MOST THINK OF NAMATH'S ALABAMA AS THE CHAMPION THAT YEAR, ANYWAY! (Even though those people are fools.) You pay a ridiculous sum of money to a three-year ringer, build up the talent pool in the program (and win an ass-load of games along the way), then you hand the program over to the up-and-comer "who really wants to be here." Arguments against this theory sound alot like Hootie's "I only want recruits who want to be here" argument, or his claim that he "loves the helmet," both of which are the football equivalents of the strawman. If these were bible times, and Orville Henry were still alive, he would march Clay Henry (the author of so much idiotic coaching pabulum and Hootie-stroking) up to the top of the mountain with a big, sharp knife. And when God said, "Just kidding. You don't actually have to kill him for me," Orville would just go ahead and do it anyway.
But then I waffle. Maybe an up-and-comer is all we can get now. This situation is so fucked up beyond all recognition that no reasonable "name" coach would want to come here. Not only that, but using my argument above, Norm Chow would have to be considered. THIS WOULD BE A NIGHTMARE SCENARIO. (EDITOR'S NOTE: As I go back and reread this before sending it, it strikes me that this hyperlink could be construed as racist. That is NOT my intent. This was just the most awesome thing I could find that was named "Nightmare." And I'm keeping it in because it's still freaking awesome.) In the end, I settle by hoping for Gus, then Petrino, then Muschamp, then Mike Leach (who has drifted from contention, while drifting INTO contention for the UCLA job; is it any wonder their cumulative grade-point average is higher than ours?). And then I just get really, really depressed.
Luckily, others are taking action . Like the guy in this hyperlink, who has camped out on a sand bar island in the Arkansas River, near I-430 in Little Rock, until the Hogs hire a coach. Excellent protest, young man! Now if we can just get someone to self-immolate in front of the Broyles Center…I hold out little hope for this. There are only so many Thich Quang Ducs in the world, and they don't seem to care about my crippling depression.
But, wait! Basketball can save us. Right? Well, maybe. Or maybe not. We did manage to defeat Missouri State on Monday, which will probably become an RPI win before tournament selection time. But then there's that other hyperlink, where an obviously high Patrick Beverly is playing poker with an ungodly number of $20 bills. Meanwhile, Michael Washington hovers in the background…getting ready to… make it rain? Hmm…illegal, irresponsible, homoerotic?
Let's just let that one go, why don't we. The team has two games this week, one versus underwhelming Texas-San Antonio, and a Saturday game against Oklahoma IN NORMAN. For those of you nestled in the bosom of the Arkansas History Department, this could very well be the Revenge for Stealing Chappell From Us Bowl. Or it could be the Thanks for Stealing Chappell From Us Bowl, depending on your demeanor and general worldview. Either way, it is an important game—a true road test that will be a defining win come tournament time. (Yes, yes. I KNOW they lost to Stephen F. Austin at home on Saturday. That doesn't make the test any less daunting for us.)
Finally, let me say a few things about the bowl game. (PS—My tickets have arrived. I have heard nothing from any of you about your own attendance. This is disturbing, to say the least. Don't wait until the stadium is sold out! Order now! Only $90, plus parking! (which is another $20)! Wait, wait, wait. I just checked. SOLD OUT. You missed it. Remember your Samuel Johnson: "What we hope ever to do with ease, we must learn first to do with diligence.") We are going to beat Missouri. This seems to go against popular opinion, but my prediction is based on more than simple blind optimism. Missouri's defense is porous, to say the least. They were "porous" against the shitty Big 12 offenses they encountered every week. They have no chance in holy hell to stop Darren and Felix and Peyton. But their offense! you'll say. Our secondary sucks, and they have a Heisman finalist at quarterback! Never fear. Their offense is based on short dump-off passes. It is a modified version of the old Warren Moon Houston Oilers Run-and-Shoot (though it isn't the Run-and-Shoot; see Hawaii).Our defense's big problem is in the deep secondary. But the bend-but-don't-break approach we normally take (assuming that Reggie's "defensive coordinator" doesn't dramatically change the general 2-deep man coverage we almost ALWAYS run) should actually contain what Missouri does underneath. We give up big plays downfield, but they don't usually aim for big plays, even though they're a pass-first team. And when you STILL get nervous, remember: it's the Big 12. No, no, no. It's Big 12 North! They stink on hot ice.
We will win the Cotton Bowl. Think of it this way: A guy discovers he has a tumor. His work suffers for it. He can't concentrate on his work because he's consumed with his illness, with the possibility of death. It supersedes everything else he does. But then he goes and gets the tumor removed. Even though he wasn't all that great a worker before the tumor, his post-op productivity goes through the roof because he's so happy to be alive. The joy of being tumor-free makes him a better employee. The team is our worker. Hootie was our tumor.
And now that tumor is planted firmly in the "brain"stem of the "University" of Mississippi, driving the Faulkner-zombie crazy and quite possibly bringing about a pseudo-literary apocalypse. So it goes. They will suffer the wrath of an unholy army of discontented author-demons. We will win the Cotton Bowl. There needs no ghost come from the grave to tell US these things.
50-48
Fuck Texas
WPS
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