Jack’s Blog

Is this the ultimate down year for college football?  Or has parity, what coaches preach so often, really arrived?

Two weeks in a row, the number one team in the country went down.  Last week, it was defending national champion Alabama getting soundly beaten by South Carolina.  Following the game, Tide coach Nick Saban made a statement that his guys needed to learn a lesson.  He talked about how he believed in his team, that it could still be a great squad.  It sounded like he was drawing a line in the sand.  With all the talent Alabama has, coupled with the fact they were going home, you’d have thought they would have throttled Ole Miss.

After Saban’s comments to the media, QB Greg McElroy let the public know he also addressed the team about losing and that he didn’t plan on doing so again.  It was a Tim Tebow moment.  Then, the game started and the Tide looked fair at best on the offensive side of the ball.  Had the Rebels or Black Bears or whatever they are these days not shot themselves in the foot with uncharacteristic penalties, especially on special teams, the game might have been closer than it was - and it was a great deal closer than most thought after speeches from their two leaders.  Many gamblers must have taken a bath.

Now, the motivational speaking chores go to Jim Tressel and Terrell Pryor who received from Wisconsin what UA got from South Carolina.  The Badgers need to be aware because, just like South Carolina had to do after downing number one, UW has to go on the road next week.  And Iowa City is a far more hostile environment than what the Gamecocks had to face.

Other than Nashville, Lexington is as tame an SEC venue as a team could want.  Their coach had never lost to UK, a win would put the much needed separation they needed in the East division and they were cruising during the contest.  One key Carolina injury and a last minute score, capping a come-from-behind miracle, absolutely ruined the day for the Gamecocks.

It has to be a screwy year when a Texas victory over Nebraska is considered an upset and Florida loses three games in a row.  Add to that a 65-43 game that not only wasn’t in the WAC, or even the Pac-10, but in the mug ‘em defensive oriented SEC.  In that Auburn-Arkansas contest, had someone predicted that final score, they’d have said Cam Newton and Ryan Mallett would have had a shoot-out.  And they’d have been half right as the Arkansas signal caller and Heisman hopeful departed shortly before halftime with a concussion.  As far as Auburn was concerned, it was Mr. Wilson who was the menace.

The Washington Huskies are on top of the world but are living there only because of a final play field goal and a dropped two-point conversion (by their opponent’s leading receiver).  Those two plays have given them W’s in two of the last three weeks.  Had the FG been no good and the OSU TE held on, “U-Dub” would be “U-Lookin’ at a real bad season.”

Speaking of parity, how about that FSU-BC ball game.  If the BCS really wanted to be fair, the ACC winner and the Big East champ would play off for the spot in the BCS bowl game.

Maybe it’s not a question of whether Boise State is the best team in the country but of which team deserves to be their opponent in the national championship game.

There’s little doubt we’ll be hearing from all the rabble-rousers, the definition of one being:

“a person who stirs up the passions or prejudices of the public.”

The preseason prediction for which team was going to college football’s national champion seemed relatively simple.  Alabama won it all last year, lost some talented players yet returned the core of its team, led by Heisman Trophy winner Mark Ingram, and kept their coaching staff intact.  In addition, it appears to be a down year in college football as the usual powers lost players they couldn’t replace, e.g. Florida and Tim Tebow, and there didn’t seem to be any up-and-comer who was about to burst on the scene. Sure, Boise State and TCU looked to be even better than last year but, really, if pressed, would anybody think either of those two would beat Alabama in a championship game?

Then, when the new season was about to begin, newspaper writers, talk show hosts and tv analysts (the “big” names) made their predictions and none selected the Crimson Tide.  After hearing and reading the first few, I thought that maybe these guys were taking the Sports Illustrated philosophy - pick a team that, while considered good, no one would imagine would wind up as the best in the country.  Then, if by some miracle, they did win it, people will say, “I don’t know how they did it.  They must have some great inside information.”  Not like that mag needs it, but a record boost in sales would be inevitable.  Instead, what usually happens is SI’s selection finishes (maybe) in the top 10 or, like the year they had Oregon State on the cover, the Beavers not only didn’t win the national championship, they, if memory serves me correctly, finished the season with a losing record.

This year, not only did Kirk Herbstreit pick his alma mater, Ohio State as the eventual champion, but he had them beating Auburn in the final game.  Apparently, Herbie felt the War Eagles would knock off Alabama during the regular season.  Talk about a gut feel.  Other chic selections were Texas, Florida (how anybody could pick them over Alabama this year is mind boggling) and a few others.

Some of these predictions looked wise after Marcell Dareus was suspended for the Tide’s first two contests and Ingram suffered a knee injury which would sideline him for those games as well.  “Roll Tide” wasn’t just a cheer as Alabama took no prisoners in those two encounters, as well as the first one, at Duke, after they returned.

It sure doesn’t look like anybody is clearly (or even opaquely) as good as Nick Saban’s troops.  Should the season play out as it looks, the prognosticators will be using Maxwell Smart’s old line:

“Missed it by that much.”

How was your Saturday?  Late in the afternoon I walked into our family room and saw a message on the TV screen, which was on when I left the room a few moments earlier, that said, “One moment please.  This station will return shortly.”  No matter which channel I clicked onto, same message.  So I went to the computer - which had no Internet connection.  Since I nearly always use my cell phone, I had no idea our landline was dead as well. 

It’s what happens when everything is connected to Comcast and the signal goes out.  A call to their 800 number had a guy initially tell me he’d send out a repairman on Wed morning at 8 am.  After a brief chat, with me mostly doing the talking, we came to an understanding that Sunday at 8 am was a much better plan.  

Not trying to bore you, simply explaining why there was no blog yesterday.  Enjoy this one.

Although he didn’t have to, since he was under contract, Fresno State football coach Pat Hill agreed to the university’s request he shave $200,000 off of his 2010-11 salary.  “Sure, now he’s only making a cool mil,” some Bulldog supporters retorted.  My question to those detractors is, “How much would you take in salary reduction if your employer was having budget issues?”  My guess is not even two hundred.

One thing I noticed during my three decades in the college game is that coaches, whether or not they produce the results the fans, boosters and administrators want (expect), put in more hours than anyone else on - or off - campus.  As far as compensation is concerned, you might be surprised at Hill’s take, “Salaries are completely out of control now in college football.“  Spoken by a guy who loves the coaching aspect as much as he did when he entered the profession  - for a lot less money.  For the record, Pat’s salary barely gets him into the top 50 highest paid collegiate football coaches.

“But is he worth a million?”  Wrong question.  Other than Nick Saban and Chris Petersen, what coach in the country satisfied its fan base last season?  Mack Brown?  Pete Carroll?  Jim Tressel?  The question ought to be, “Is the school getting its money’s worth out of its coach?”  Even there we’ll find disagreement, but at least it’s a more fair standard.

To a football coach (and, from my experience, a basketball coach), what day of the week it is has no relevance.  For that matter, what time of day is usually of little significance as well.  In addition to practice and meetings (depending on the calendar), there’s always another recruiting call to be made, another player to work out, more film to break down, another game plan to help devise, camp to set up, another speech to give, - pick one (or more).  Meaning if there’s a spare moment, there’s always something you can do - and probably ought to be doing.  Tuesday or Saturday?  What difference does it make?

Of course, some guys work harder, or longer, than others, but I’ve always maintained that if all the employees on campus would put in the time that its coaches do, the school would run much more efficiently.  Plus, if this were the rule, the lazy people, e.g. tenured ones, would be forced to find another line of work or become more accountable.

One story I’ve repeated numerous times is about the times at Fresno State we’d check to make sure our guys were in class.  I can recall walking down the hall of academic buildings and seeing signs posted on classroom doors that read, “CLASS CANCELED.”  How can a professor cancel a class?  Isn’t that what they’re paid to do - teach?  The only time a class should be canceled is if the professor gets in a car wreck - on the way to class!  Sure, the students love it.  They get an unexpected mini-vacation.  They never stop to think they’re paying for that class their prof just blew off.

And office hours for college professors?  If anyone ever needed a definition of the word “fiction,” read the office hours on a syllabus.  If students actually find their prof in the office during office hours, the first thing they should do is buy a lottery ticket. I’ve had professors tell me the only reason they post office hours is that it’s required.

I have yet to touch on people in other walks of life but suffice to say, even if they work as long and hard as coaches do (and I’d give fairly substantial odds on that - if we’re talking over the course of a year and not a selected day here and there), none are under the intense scrutiny coaches are.

There’s absolutely no doubt coaches are overpaid, especially when they’re doing what they love to do.  And I’m fully aware they’re paid to win.  Heck, anybody can lose.  But when it’s time to criticize coaches, keep in mind that if everybody put in the effort and time coaches did, we’d all be better off.  And a heckuva lot more tired.

As Stephen Covey said:

“We judge others by their actions (and accomplishments); ourselves by our intentions.”

After yesterday’s blog about Nick Satan Saban, I was flooded with emails, texts and phone calls, some roasting me, most criticizing him.  I’m realistic enough to understand if he had written a blog about it (not that he would; in fact, he probably doesn’t even remember the encounters, he’s orchestrated so many of them throughout the years), he would be the one receiving the overwhelming support.  That’s just human nature. 

Some people wrote “Let it go already!  It’s not healthy” and “Don’t you know the best way to deal with it is to forgive him?  That’s what would be best for your mental health.”  Most of what I received regarding his behavior was done in much more colorful language.  Possibly by others who had a similar experience with the coach.  

To the first bit of helpful advice, let me say, “I am over it.  It doesn’t bother me in the slightest.  He is who he is and, since meeting him, I am fully aware of it.  I just needed to blog something and, since he’s the man of the hour, I thought it would be a timely post.”  As to the other, I’ve heard about forgiving someone who’s offended you, but 1) I don’t think it would matter to him if he received a letter from me and 2) I can find no reason to forgive him, especially if doing so is supposed to make me feel unburdened or better.  So, it was a blog and leave it at that.

As far as a coach who has also won a National Championship, but was one of the classiest people - at least in the way he treated me -  Jim Valvano epitomized everything Nick Saban doesn’t.  I considered myself a friend of Jimmy’s, but that was the thing about “V” - everybody considered themself a friend of his.  Here’s a blog I did on 7/8/07 and it’s worth reprinting, what with this being “Jimmy V” week.

With the ESPYs on TV and the constant mention of the V Foundation, I thought this blog ought to be about an encounter I had with the late Jim Valvano.

The story is taken from my book, Life’s A Joke.  It took place in the mid-80s when I was an assistant at the University of Tennessee and Jim had won the most improbable of NCAA Championships, a last second victory over the Phi Slamma Jamma Houston Cougars.

USA Today had done a story on, among other things, how much money he was making in the years following that dream tournament run.  V was quoted as saying the numbers were greatly inflated and he wasn’t making nearly the amount of money that was being reported.

We were both East Coast guys and had known each other since his playing days at Rutgers.  I was playing at Highland Park High School at the same time, just a mile from the RU campus.  So, I knew he’d appreciate my note in which I placed a $1 bill, along with the message, “V, Just read the USA Today article.  Had no idea things were so bad. Hope this helps. Jack”  About a week or two later, I received a letter with a North Carolina State return address.  I was prepared for anything because I knew V wouldn’t ever let anyone get one up on him.

Jim had incorporated himself and his corporation was called JTV Enterprises.  His letter read, “Jack, Got your money and invested it in JTV Enterprises.  Enclosed is your return.  Too bad you didn’t invest more. V”  Inside the letter were two $1 bills. 

Nobody ever got the better of Jim Valvano.

When V was stricken with cancer, he told his closest friends that he wanted to make a difference.  He felt a cure for cancer might not be discovered in time to help him, but that, in time, with enough money and research poured into the cause, cancer could be conquered.

The learned rabbi, Harold Kushner, wrote in several of his books that he’d spent time with people in the last moments of their life.  What he discovered is:                               

“People don’t fear death.  They fear insignificance.”

V, you can rest in peace having no fear of that.  �

Most people are lauding Alabama’s Nick Saban as a turnaround expert and a brilliant football coach.  Both of those complimentary phrases are beyond argument.  Saban is both and I defy anyone to challenge them.

As a person, there have been several other descriptions.  Most of these are true as well.  Here’s my first hand account of dealing with Nick Saban, man of many adjectives, each of them carefully designed by Nick himself (both the complimentary and not-so).

When Saban was introduced as the University of Toledo’s new football coach (coming to TU from the Houston Oilers’ staff), I was serving as the associate head basketball coach for the Rockets.  The occasion for his introduction was at the Rocket’s golf tournament, its major annual fundraiser.  The head of the Rocket Club, assistant athletics director, Bob Fountain, had asked me to emcee the dinner which was to follow the tourney.

Bob told me that since (most of) the participants had been drinking while playing (normal behavior for such an event), that he’d appreciate it if I could inject some humor into the dinner.  This role was nothing new for me.  I’m pretty quick-witted and understand that people tend to donate more when they’re happy, so I knew to throw in some self-deprecating humor (not difficult at the time because I didn’t play golf) and make some cracks at the expense of the “heavy hitters,” all of whom I knew well as this was 1990 and I was entering my fourth year at TU.  I’d served as emcee for dinners for years, so I prepared as I always did with some “golf humor” and was ready to give the folks a good time.

Throughout the dinner, I’d joke that Mike Cicak (one of the most astute businessmen and most generous people I’d ever met, as well as best friend of my mentor, John Savage) sliced his first tee shot into someone’s backyard, then hit his next attempt into the water, then finally hooked his ball so deep into the woods he’d have met Bambi if he tried to find it.  When his playing partner said to him, “Mike why don’t you use an old ball,” Mike snapped, “Because I’ve never had an old ball.”  Old joke, but well-received and it worked to set the tone for an enjoyable evening.

Keep in mind that Mike Cicak was a guy who, following the birth of our first child, less than two years after we’d gotten to Toledo and I barely knew him, sent me a note of congratulations - accompanied by a check for $1,000 - because John Savage assured him I was a good guy and “one of us.”  This good natured ribbing went on, laughter permeated the room and, after looking over at Bob Fountain, I got a thumbs up.  It was at this time that I turned over the program to our director of athletics, who introduced our new football coach.

Nick Saban, whom I had yet to meet, got up and began saying that, to him, running a football program was a serious matter.  That, although some coaches thought it appropriate to joke around, that coaching was no joking matter to him.  When it became that way, losing would be a certain result ( a cheap shot at the fact our record the previous season was 12-16).  No matter that I wasn’t the head coach, or that I had been asked to “keep the dinner light” with banter and comraderie.  While Saban was ranting - and wowing the boosters with his motivational talk (they were loving this new no- nonsense leader) - Bob Fountain leaned back from is seat at the head table and mouthed the words, “I’m sorry.” 

To this day, I know he had no idea that Nick Saban was going to go into an “alpha dog” rage to make his point.  He got a rousing ovation from the well-lit crowd, hungry for a winning football season.  When I retook the podium, there was a hush, the crowd waiting for my response to this direct personal assault and an intentional, but completely undeserved, beat down.  I have to admit it crossed my mind to let it be known that “You in the audience have just been entertained and worked into a lather by a truly exceptional motivational expert - who also happens to be the biggest self-serving, ‘It’s all about me & I have no problem stepping on whomever is in my way, even if he is just doing what he has been told to do and, by the way, is a person I have never met‘ dirty pool playing scumbag.”  When it comes to a verbal joust, I’m usually prepared for battle.

I also knew that this wasn’t the time nor the place & how foolish would it be to turn a department fundraiser into a civil war.  So, I got up, paused, looke dout over the crowd and said, . . . “YEAH!” like I was as geeked as those in the crowd.  These were my friends and many came up later to ask what I had done to upset our new football coach.  But he backed up his bold words by going 9-2 that season and was beloved by the same fans.

His mantra was that the college game was where he belonged and he envisioned a long career at Toledo.  At the end of that first year, he left to become the defensive coordinator for the Cleveland Browns, saying, in a tear-filled press conference, he never would have left TU - except for the Cleveland Browns.  Maybe this is why ESPN’s Pat Forde subsequently referred to him as a “liar” and Don Shula (someone who also is recognized as a decent coach - and human being - proving the two do not have to be mutually exclusive) couldn’t refute the description of Saban as “a raging fraud.”

This alpha dog mentality carried into that first year.  The offices were situated in a strange way at Toledo’s Savage Hall (named after one of the greatest individuals I’ve ever had the honor of knowing - and someone who, while he wasn’t present at the golf dinner, let me know the following day I should pay no attention to Saban’s ambush because he’s obviously “cut from a different cloth” than others John knew - and respected).  The only entrance to each of our offices were off of a long hallway.  Therefore, when leaving, a visitor would have to walk down the hallway to exit the building.

One of Nick’s favorite ploys was to bring in a football player and read him the riot act in his paper-thin wall office.  When he was through berating the player, the kid would have to make the “walk of shame” down the hall, in front of the secretaries and other coaches’ offices, exacting the very effect Coach Napoleon had desired.

One day, I was summoned to the Big Kahuna’s office, where he informed me he’d heard the basketball staff was breaking NCAA rules and he was not about to be part of a university that was in any way shady.  I leaned forward in the chair opposite his desk and said, “Look, Nick, I don’t know where you heard this - or even if you heard this (making it known that he orchestrated scenarios to enhance his position), but before you make any more statements about cheating, you might want to get (and I brought up the top high school running back prospect in Toledo, a kid who was getting attention from Big Ten and SEC schools) out of Glasstech’s skybox where he’s being fed before your games.  You and I both know that’s a major NCAA violation.  So why don’t you take care of the football program and let us run basketball?” 

I never did find out why he selected me as the person to occur his wrath, but I was anxious to let him know that I saw through him and his self-serving bluster.  Having been at Tennessee, Western Carolina and Washington State before Toledo, I had sensational realtionships with each school’s well-known football coach - Johnny Majors, Bob Waters (maybe the finest coach/person I’ve encountered, whose life was tragically cut short by ALS) and Jim Sweeney, respectively.  I’ve always considered myself a team player as far as being a member of an athletics department staff was concerned, but if he wanted to take off the gloves, so be it.

Later in the day, when he was in that narrow hallway, talking to at a couple of secretaries (who, to his delight, were in complete fear of him), I yelled out, “Hey, Nick, how do you spell your name, with an N or a PR?”  Since it was so unexpected, the secretaries burst out laughing, then quickly tried to stifle their outburst.  Saban stalked back to his office.

Once more before I end this piece, let me say that Nick Saban has been called, arguably the greatest college football coach ever - and I find it extremely difficult to refute that.  He won his one year at Toledo, won at Michigan State, won it all at LSU and is favored to do the same in only his third year at Alabama.  Too bad his personal skills (and I’m not talking about those he has with boosters and fans he cultivates and who fawn all over him) are diametrically opposed to his coaching prowess.

To me, the line that sums up Nick Saban the best comes from Abagail Van Buren:

“The best index to a person’s character is (a) how he treats people who can’t do him any good and (b) how he treats people who can’t fight back.”               �