Sep 2, 2010

As I write this, folks, my plane is soaring somewhere over The Great American Continent, very likely in the neighborhood of Kansas or so, and because I have roughly 100 minutes or so until this annoyingly late and long flight is completed, I figured I would write this week’s edition of TCFA.

Because, you see, folks, besides being bored on this plane, and besides reliving in my head the great memories of a great weekend spent in the Reno-Tahoe region for my old college roommate Scott Husbands’ nuptials (congrats, Scotty & Angie), and besides sitting here marinating in my flight-induced misery (can we as a nation please pour about $5 trillion into a high-speed rail system?), I am also excited as all hell for college football season. So excited, in fact, that I’m willing to sit here and write these pages even though the dude on my left and the old lady on my right are engaged in a troublingly detailed conversation about the latest developments in junior-high pedagogy. They are talking loud and long, folks.

But I am typing.

Because college football is … finally … here.

Yes, it is true, folks.

By the time you read this, the college football campaign of 2010 will have officially begun, and we will all be much, much happier as a result. We will no longer have to suffer through Saturdays without structure, without tailgating, without Gerry DiNardo, without built-in excuses for pre-noon imbibing, without, well, all of the wonderful things brought to bear by college football, the greatest game the world has ever seen and the greatest thing about being an American.

By the time you read this, in other words, we will have already received Our Annual Autumnal Salvation.

What a relief. What a blessed relief.

If only I had the words to express just how great a relief this really is.

***

A few months back, maybe right around the time that Major League Baseball (Go Tribe, and Go Away Dolan Family) got underway, Your Editor sat down at Your Editor’s Desk in The Beautiful Wissahickon Valley and began writing … a book. Yes, a book. The book, if I ever finish it, will be a series of essays about—this ­will come as no surprise, I assure you—the greatness of American college football.

The working title is, The Greatest Sport The World Has Ever Seen: And If You Don’t Agree With That, You Aren’t Intelligent.

Again, it’s a working title, folks.

Now, about two weeks after starting this project, I was feeling pretty damn good about myself. I had plowed through one entire chapter—the introduction, which recounts a splendid autumn Saturday from my Hunt Club youth, a Georgia-Auburn game from 1988, a pile of muddy clothes, and the precise moment, standing in front of my parents' black-and-white television, when I realized that Every Saturday Is More Important Than Every Sunday—and had made significant progress on another, a (hopefully) engaging examination of The Perfect Tailgate. I like to think of that piece as the college football equivalent of Tim O’Brien’s “The Things They Carried.” And I say that with the deepest respect.

Anyway, as I was saying: Things were moving along quite well.

Then, all at once, writing became difficult.

Spring rolled into summer. The Beautiful Wissahickon Valley melted under historic summer heat. Your Editor went to the beach. Then came back. I worked in the garden. Then saw the tomatoes and peppers peter themselves out. I watched a few Tribe games. Then realized the exercise was hopeless. I took Princess Leah for walks, catered to the needs of The Ever-Demanding Anna, played soccer with Young Jack (Go Villains).

What I didn’t do was complete any more chapters for The Greatest Sport The World Has Ever Seen: And If You Don’t Agree With That, You Aren’t Intelligent.

Only now, on the cusp of college football 2010, do I understand why.

***

Eleven years.

Yes, as I mentioned in last week’s podcast, folks, I have now been writing here at The College Football Athenaeum for the past 11 years.

Eleven.

And in all of that time, through all of the changes The Game We Love has seen—the rise of Boise State and the fall of Michigan, the arrival of the Big Ten Network and the dawn of ESPN’s journalistic dishonesty, the move of Colorado to the Pac-10 and the awesomeness of Nebraska to the Big Ten, USC’s meteoric ascendancy and USC's utterly predictable tumble back to earth, Saint Joe Paterno’s stubborn refusal to leave and Bobby Bowden’s sad end in Tallahassee—it seems to me that the actual content of TCFA, generally speaking, has remained completely and utterly unchanged. It’s basically the same today as it was back in 1999.

Year-in, year-out, I write mostly about—er, entirely about—just how much I love this blessed game. And I exaggerate not, folks. It is a truly blessed game.

The fight songs. The traditions.

The mammoth stadiums that actually have character (dear NFL: your stadiums suck). The rivalries that actually are rivalries (dear NFL commentators: don’t ever try to convince me that anyone on the Eagles gives a rat’s ass about beating the Cowboys; they’re playing for a paycheck).

The tailgates.

The Victory Hop Devil.

The Martinis With Blue Cheese And/Or Jalapeno-Stuffed Olives.

The palpable and assuredly real anger between North and South (yes, real anger!). The fact that SEC people actually believe they run faster than us. The fact that Big Ten people actually believe we're smarter than them. The fact that we're right.

Lee Corso putting on the headgear on College Gameday. Pam Ward calling the awful noon Big Ten game on ESPN6. Ron Franklin delivering sadly underrated play-by-play work. The Ro*Tel ads on the Big Ten Network. Melanie Collins.

The thousands of text messages I swap with friends and family. The umatched joy of those phone calls when My Beloved Nittany Lions Win. The ridiculous and completely unjustified sadness when they lose.

The colors. The sounds. The smells. Bratwursts! Campfires! Manure!

The Saturday mornings, the Saturday afternoons, the Saturday evenings.

I mean, I could go on and on and on.

In fact, I have been going on and on and on. I’ve been going on and on and on for 11 damn years.

Eleven years!

But you know what?

I still don’t feel I’ve yet managed to convey just how much I love this game—and how much, I am guessing, you love it too. And if I haven’t accomplished that after 11 God-forsaken years, folks, well, I am guessing that there is some part of me that figures I’ll never pull this thing off.

I’ll never get it.

I’ll never find the words.

So maybe that’s why my work on The Greatest Sport The World Has Ever Seen: And If You Don’t Agree With That, You Aren’t Intelligent has ground to a halt. Maybe, subliminally, my more logical side is telling me to focus my lagging energies (I am 34 now, folks) on something more constructive.

Like a law degree.

I mean, let’s go ahead and face it: A law degree would almost certainly deliver more concrete rewards than time spent slaving away on The Greatest Sport The World Has Ever Seen: And If You Don’t Agree With That, You Aren’t Intelligent.

More money, I mean.

Which I could then use to buy fancy vodka for my Martinis With Blue-Cheese And/Or Jalapeno-Stuffed Olives.

Or buy Mrs. Your Editor a new minivan (black).

Or, you know, send my kids to Yale. Or Williams. Or Penn State. Or Colgate (just seems like a nice place, folks).

***

Alas, folks. I am a writer at heart. Not to mention a loyal servant to the great game of college football.

So, no, I will not be tossing everything aside and rushing off to take the LSAT. I will not stop writing this silly website. I will not abandon the new TCFA podcast. And though the progress may often be painfully slow, and though I may well never find the words to convey precisely what I want to convey, I will not give up on The Greatest Sport The World Has Ever Seen: And If You Don’t Agree With That, You Aren’t Intelligent.

Because here’s the thing, folks: Even if I wanted to, I don’t think I could.

I really don't.

For whatever reason, this game—this great, glorious, tradition-laden, colorful, beautiful game—has gripped me like no game has ever grabbed me before, and no other game will ever grab me again. No, not even the beautiful game. Go Villains.

In other words, folks, I’m here to stay.

College football is back. I’m right here back with it.

I am glad you're here with me.

So now, let’s get ready for college football 2010. And let’s do our damnedest to appreciate every last second of it.

Out And About: News And Notes You May Have Missed

• I’m sure, folks, that you’re just dying to know my thoughts about The Latest Development In The Greatest Thing To Happen To The Big Ten Since Penn State Joined The Big Ten. So here goes: On Wednesday night, Emperor Jim Delany joined the crew at the Big Ten Network to announce the league’s new divisions. Those divisions, as you’ve surely heard by now, break down as follows: Ohio State, Penn State, Wisconsin, Purdue, Indiana and Illinois in one division, Michigan, Nebraska, Iowa, Minnesota, Northwestern and Michigan State in the other. Generally speaking, I have no problems with the arrangement. As Delany said during his press conference that evening (and, yes, folks Your Editor was on the call, listening intently but not asking any questions because, well, my name wasn't called), it was obvious from the start that the league would have to split up both “The Big Four” (Ohio State, Penn State, Nebraska, Michigan) and “The Moderately Interesting Two” (Iowa, Wisconsin). So that’s what Delany did. And though I thought the correct arrangement would have been to put Penn State and Nebraska together, and then Ohio State and Michigan together, I really think the league powers-that-be got this almost 100 percent right. Indiana-Purdue is preserved (and, yes, that matters). Illinois-Northwestern is preserved. Wisconsin-Minnesota is preserved. Wisconsin-Iowa isn't (sadly), but we exciting new rivalries (Penn State-Nebraska, Iowa-Nebraska, Michigan-Nebraska) and a great new championship game in ... Indianapolis (snore). Oh, and, of course, after all of their whining and complaining, even the Ohio State and Michigan folks got exactly what they wanted: The Game Previously Known As The Game will still be played on the last weekend of the season. Just like Indiana-Purdue. [Editor's Note: More random thoughts on the Big Ten division stuff down in Quick Hits.]

• Two months ago, Your Editor’s Sister sent along a very interesting but seemingly preposterous email to Your Editor and several of Your Editor’s Friends. In this email, Your Editor’s Sister reported that, upon talking to her Cleveland-based Penn State contacts, she believed that a relatively unknown freshman quarterback and Michigan native by the name of Robert Bolden (aka Young Robert) would win the starting quarterback job for the Nits. In a huffy/snotty response, I yelped/yawped back (and this is my exact wording): “There is an absolute zero percent chance that Bolden will be the starter, at least at the beginning of the season. Joe has never and will never start a true freshman quarterback.” Well, last night, Penn State announced via its football website that Bolden had actually won the job. Said Saint Joe Paterno: “Based on what we have seen to this point, Bolden has a slight edge right now.” My reaction: Stunned silence. Followed by a flurry of text messages. And then a series of flash-forwards in which I envisioned Young Robert being crushed at the hands of SABAN in Week 2. Anyway, apologies to my sister. She knows more than me. [Editor's Note: More on Young Robert down in Quick Hits.]

• What follows is a journalism-related rant. Apologies in advance, folks. But the fact is, our industry has been ravaged by the economy, by shady activist investors and by this newfangled "Internet," and so I take great affront to stories like this one—stories in which the hard-working, deeply underappreciated print media is treated like garbage. Here goes: Tennessee coach Derek Dooley seems like a nice enough guy. Son of legendary Georgia coach and accomplished gardener Vince Dooley, the younger Dooley earlier this year took over for The Worst Coach In the World down at Tennessee, and he’s already shown the willingness to run that program with more dignity and honesty than The Worst Coach In The World could ever even imagine to muster. That being said, Dooley this week pulled a big old Soviet-style media no-no. Here's the deal, folks: Dooley has declared that all Vols  scrimmages will be closed to the media. Which is fine, of course. What isn’t fine, however, is his new “Iron Vol” program, through which he, well, rewards the media members who kiss his ass most thoroughly. Rewards them, that is, by allowing them to sit in on selected “closed” practices and scrimmages that are otherwise closed to the media. Dooley selected five "Iron Vols" (aka Knoxville Bobs) this week. For their efforts on behalf of Tennessee football/Derek Dooley, the Knoxville Bobs were allowed to watch a scrimmage that other reporters weren't. As for those poor non-Iron Vols? Explained The Ethically Challenged Coach: "It's not a punishment to those that didn't come. It's just like the players. It's a simple reward for exemplary performance, and I hope we'll get something out of it." That last bit of that last sentence says it all, folks.

Quick HIts: Straight And To The Point

• Another thought about The Latest Development In The Greatest Thing To Happen To The Big Ten Since Penn State Joined The Big Ten: It ticked me off, folks, and ticked me off royally, that the first guests to appear on the Big Ten Network’s division alignment special were … the athletic directors from Ohio State and Michigan. How utterly predictable. Hey, newsflash, Emperor Delany: It’s not 1972 anymore. Also, your conference has 12 members. Not two.

• Yet another: In 2011, Nebraska's first season in Completely Awesome New Big Ten, the 'Huskers will play Ohio State, Penn State, Michigan, Iowa and Wisconsin. Good luck guys!

• Yet another: Because Penn State's only "protected" non-divisional rival is Nebraska, and because Michigan State has been placed in the other (as-yet unnamed) division, the Land Grant Trophy Game will cease to exist. I have to admit, I'll kind of miss it. Because we usually won. [Nostalgic tear]

• And yet another: One of the rivalries that will be protected in The Completely Awesome New Big Ten is ... the Michigan State-Indiana game. “Michigan State-Indiana?” you ask. Yes, Michigan State-Indiana, I reply. As my TCFA podcast co-host Mike Unger explained this week, the Spartans and Hoosiers have long been engaged in a fiery battle for something called The Old Brass Spittoon. I have been watching Big Ten football for 30 damn years, folks, and until this very day I pledge that I’ve never heard of the Old Brass Spittoon.

• Speaking of the TCFA podcast, folks, as you can over there on the left, Mrs. Your Editor has created a fancy new logo for us. Just click on that logo to hear this week’s podcast, wherein Mike and I discuss everything from Boise State-Virginia Tech and North Carolina-LSU to Mark Ingram’s injury and … the Mayor’s Cup. We also talk about drinking, bars and the benefits of Hurricane Earl. The sound quality this time around is 100 percent improved, though still a work in progress, and next week we expect to have all issues finalized forever. Anyway, it's worth a listen. If you have any comments or questions about the pod, feel free to drop us a line at youreditor@tcfaonline.com.

• I am officially on the record as saying that Boise State will win the national championship this year. Which means, of course, that I fully expect the Broncos to beat Virginia Tech this weekend. But I'm going one step further, folks. The Broncos will not only beat the Hokies; they'll dominate them. Final score: Boise 37, Virginia Tech 14.

• Don't think Boise State can ascend to such heights? Well, folks, I would ask you to bone up on your college football history. Some of the "powers" of modern-day college football weren't always considered "powers." Take, for instance, Virginia Tech, which was treated as an outsider well into the mid-1990s. Or Penn State, which spent most of the 1960s and 1970s battling its perception as an "effete Eastern program" before finally earning the college football world's respect. We've seen this happen before, folks. Look past the uniform. Look past the conference affiliation. In five years, nobody will look at Boise State as anything less than a legitimate college football powerhouse.

• The United States Naval Academy, official military academy of TCFA, is promoting quarterback Ricky Dobbs as a potential Suzuki Heisman Trophy candidate. As well they should: He’s the best quarterback to play in Annapolis since Roger Staubach. Also, he has publicly stated that he wants to one day become President. While I generally would dissuade anyone from getting into the ugly, petty, meaningless, empty world of politics, I at least admire Dobbs' ambition. I encourage y’all to tune in and watch this kid play against Maryland (snore) on Monday.

• Quick thought on Young Robert, folks: He is the first true freshman quarterback ever—yes, EVER—to win the starting quarterback job at Penn State under Joe Paterno. I mean, think about that, folks. Since Paterno took over in Happy Valley in freaking 1967, a freshman has never won the job. And Bolden just did. Remarkable. [Editor's Note: No, Wally Richardson in 1992 and Tony Sacca in 1988 don't count; they started because of injuries, not because their awesomeness.]

• When Michigan takes the field to take on Connecticut this week, they will have true freshman starters at punter, linebacker and both cornerback spots. The Wolverines are going to score about 32 points per game this year. Unfortunately they will give up about 37 points per game.

• Thanks again to my old college buddy, Scott Husbands, and his new wife Angie for having us all out to Nevada last week for their wedding. Special thanks also to Scott's parents, who I shall respectfully call Mr. and Mrs. Husbands, for being kind enough to tell me that they are actually (and shockingly) loyal readers of TCFA (who knew?). Always nice to hear, folks. Oh, and one more thing: If you ever find yourself anywhere near Lake Tahoe, you absolutely must make the trip up to see it. Despite its lack of tall buildings (as longtime readers know, I judge most cities/areas based on two questions: a) Is there water there?; b) are there tall buildings?), Tahoe scored a perfect 11 (11 rather than 10, of course, in honor of LaVar) on the Official TCFA Travel Scale. It was simply gorgeous, and awesome, and I am moving there, effective next week, if only I can convince Mrs. Your Editor to join me. Viva Lake Tahoe, folks. Viva Lake Tahoe!

• Song of the Week: “Big Brown Eyes,” Old 97s. The original version. From the vastly underrated Wreck Your Life album, released in 1995, just before the alt-country scene broke wide open and then, within a matter of five years or so, completely fizzled out. Oh, folks. What days those were. American musicians reconnecting with their Americana roots, putting the glam and stupidity aside and, for the first time in 30 years or so, simply sitting down with their guitars and knocking out songs about the simple pleasures of life—not to mention beautiful young lasses with beautiful brown eyes. Cue up and enjoy at your next tailgate, folks.

• Looking for this week's Prognostications? Well, click here.