They Got A Name for All the Winners in the World

In 1997, a goofy, Opie lookin' kid played quarterback for a Catholic powerhouse in Baton Rouge. Though he was not the physical prototype of a quarterback, his knowledge of the game and ability to read the defense made him difficult to stop.

This kid grew up with football in his blood. His dad was president of the Alabama Alumni Association and even named his son after their star player, Major Ogilvie. Little Major saw as many Tide games as possible and wished to someday play for their team.

As a senior in high school, however, Alabama chose not to recruit him. Two teams from Texas did: Texas and Texas A&M. After a campus visit, Major gave the Aggies his verbal commitment to play football in College Station. It was only after the coach that recruited him no longer worked for the Aggies that he started to have second thoughts about playing for A&M.

John Mackovic then made one of the most important calls of his life (the first probably being "Roll Left") and forever changed the course of history at the University. He convinced Major to play for the Longhorns. The Aggie Community thought they'd never miss what they never really had - until Major Applewhite became Major Applewhite.

[I still like to mention to my in-laws how different things would be down in College Station if that one coach had remained on staff. To their credit, they claim that they never liked him anyway and continue to call him Private Applesauce.]

Applewhite achieved hero status his freshman year when he led Texas to an improbable win over the Cornhuskers in Lincoln; he achieved sainthood when he was benched in favor of Simms a few years later.

It was during this time period where many took for granted that someday he would again roam the sidelines of DKR, but as head coach, not second string quarterback. This dream was put on hold as Applewhite took jobs at Syracuse, Rice, and then Alabama.

Maybe I'm going a bit overboard with this statement, but today could be one of the most important, albeit symbolic, days in Texas Longhorn history.

And maybe the coincidences are just that, but this isn't the first time Texas has entrusted an out-of-state coach who wore number 11 while playing college football with major responsibilities. Royal was 32 years old at the time; Applewhite is 29 but rumors have been rampant that Brown will retire before he turns 60, the same year Applewhite will be 32.

Welcome back, Major. We hope you stay for a while.

That Is A Full Day

- This week, ESPN is recognizing "Jimmy V Week". Regrettably, I came of age as Coach V's coaching career was coming to an end. When his team won the NCAA's in 1983, I was only ten years old. My memories of Dereck Whittenburg and Lorenzo Charles are a little dimmer than those of the ACC greats that followed - Mark Alarie, Johnny Dawkins, and Len Bias. Likewise, after Valvano finally found someone to hug in Albuquerque , his own national presence seemed to fade in favor of Coaches Krzyzewski and Boeheim.

After 1990 and Personal Fouls was published, only Valvano's family and Vitale could say anything complementary about him. Until 1993.

Less than a month before his death, Coach V gave a speech that will forever remain in the heart of any sports enthusiast. It should, however, not remain within that community. The motto "Don't give up; don't ever give up" is not unique to the athletic arena.

The games played during the Jimmy V Classic are sure to be entertaining. It will bring back many fond memories any may even lead me to laughter, thought, and tears.

- Melissa and I stifled laughter long enough to discuss renewing our vows someday. Not for ourselves, but just to have a party and confuse our family and friends.

We'll play two songs to demonstrate the tug-of-war of nuptial bliss. She'll play Pearl Jam's Can't Find A Better Man and I'll play George Jone's He Stopped Loving Her Today.

The rest of the evening will be spent in quiet and nervous conversation about whether we're serious or not.

- With Missouri and West Virginia out of the championship picture, I have temporarily discontinued caring (I haven't given up; I won't ever give up) about the winners of the BSC games. Let Hawaii have its chance, I won't be watching.

One more season like this, however, and I could quite possibly be on board for a play-off system, reversing my previous opinion . I thought I'd never say that.

Clowns to the Left of Me; Jokers to the Right

* I'm misunderstood. Often mistaken for a horse's rear end, I've found after thirty seconds of deep soul-searching, I'm just an insensitive jerk.

A few weekends ago, Melissa and I met Rhonda, Cy, and Hilary at Cracker Barrel for breakfast. While we were waiting for our table, we all did some shopping. Rhonda and Hilary found a kit with ingredients and cutters to make a gingerbread house and were excited to show it to me; Melissa knew I would be less than thrilled.

Minus the love-affair aspect, it must have played like a scene out of Sinatra's How Insensitive:

How unmoved and cold I must have seemed
when she told me so sincerely
Why? She must have asked
did I just turn and stare in icy silence?
What was I to say
what can you say
when a love affair is over?

After seeing the kit, I had to turn to Melissa and say, Do I look like the kind of guy that would make anything from a kit?

Because if I can't do my own design-and-build, I don't deserve to make it.

On the way home from work last Friday, I started to think about that occurence and how it fits into the larger picture of me never asking for assistance with anything.

So I bluntly asked Melissa if I can be a jerk sometimes. Without hesitation, I got the answer I fully expected to which there was no counter argument.

On the way home from dinner, Melissa already had enough of me for the weekend. Just sit there and be quiet, she told me. You're being...you!

* An example of me being me? A few weeks ago, I recorded an episode of Live From Abbey Road, a new series on The Sundance Channel that interviews recording artists and their subsequent in-studio show. The episode featured LeAnn Rimes.

As we were watching the show I casually mentioned that she has one of the best voices I've ever heard.

Fast forward to last week: I was flipping through the channels and came across an episode of Live From Abbey Road that featured LeAnn Rimes. Melissa asked why I was recording it since I had already seen that episode. We briefly argued the factuality of that statement and she kindly let me re-record the episode regardless.

While we were watching it for either the first or second time, I casually re-mentioned that she has one of the best voices I've ever heard. While Melissa was busy laughing, I went ahead and guessed that I made the same comment watching the same episode just a week before.

* I'm thinking about taking a break from college football this weekend. Yes, you read correctly. And for clarification, that means I'll only watch the Texas game and the A&M game.

I just don't see the point anymore. I have never seen a season like this one before.

The worst position be in is either number one, number two, or in the top ten; it's almost a guaranteed loss. So I can almost forgive the guy who gave Arizona State (ranked #12) a vote for #1.

I quickly searched for a week-by-week recap of this season's AP poll. Even though I couldn't find one, let me tell you what it looks like.

It looks like a European map after the Congress of Vienna; it is a cartographer's nightmare.

Denny Miller once said the most difficult job was window washer in Beirut; this year, I think it's voter in the polls.

A-Town? I'll Take This Town, and Other Thoughts.

It's interesting how several non-connected incidents occur that lead to a singular process of thought.

Over the previous weekend, Melissa and I were in Austin for a wedding. There were several times over the two days where I became utterly and completely grateful for residing in the Dallas area. Simply stated, Melissa and I are not Austin people. To the extent that we are Dallas people, I guess that's what we are given the alternative.

I don't think having a homeless trannie running for mayor is either enlightening or funny. At least the trannie who ran for city council up here is a well-respected restaurant owner and went all the way with surgery.

Dressing up to go out, to me, means more than tucking in a t-shirt.

Eeyore's birthday party sounds very, I'm not even sure what the word is I'm looking for. I prefer a Fletcher's under the shadow of Big Tex.

The difference in attitude can perhaps be summed up with SMU's new campaign for the football season: We don't tailgate; we boulevard.

Correct, it does not do much to shed the elitist attitude prevalent throughout Dallas. Oh well.

Separately, the Big 12, celebrating the 10th anniversary of its baptism, announced this morning the permanent hire of Dan Beebe as conference commissioner. Beebe has had several years of experience working in the current of the headwaters of the NCAA.

In 1987, Beebe began his professional career investigating irregularities within the football program at Southern Methodist. As a result of his findings, the university received unprecedented and unduplicated punishment - excommunication from Varsity football.

The university has never recovered in the two decades since. What was the nation's premiere football program in the early-to-mid 80's has been reduced to perennial cellar-dwellers in the Conference USA boasting one winning season during the previous twenty.

The program that produced Doak Walker, Don Meredith and Eric Dickerson is know universally known as the School that Got the Death Penalty by students who were not even alive when it happened.

At the time, I didn't realize the full implications of that action. I don't think anybody did, beginning with those who administered the punishment. When the SWC dissolved and merged with the Big 12, I began to get a clearer picture of what could have been.

Imagine SMU, Texas, Oklahoma in the Big 12 South competing for a national championship just about every year. Imagine if Larry Johnson had played at Moody instead of Thomas-Mack.

Better yet, imagine Texas in the Pac-10, A&M in the SEC, and SMU and TCU joining the Big 8.

Imagine SMU with a home-and-home with USC and Florida instead of an intra-regional rivalry with Texas Christian and North Texas.

For those who enjoy and appreciate collegiate athletics, this is a conversation that is simply mind-boggling. Just about every time I see Gerald J. Ford Stadium, I get sad at the permanent high schoolish aura of its setting. But for a myopic and hypocritical NCAA, the Ponies would be playing each Saturday in front of 80,000-plus people on a major television network and would have a few Heisman, Butkis, and Doak Walker awards to show off. Instead, they got the Heimlich, bupkes and doh! awards.

What's The Melting Point For A Snowball?

The best team should always win; the hottest team, however, often wins. In a contest between the best team and the hottest team in a post-conference match up, I'll often take the hottest team.

Likewise, the current bowl system is supposedly broken due to its merocratic exclusivity; a collegiate football playoff system would presumably loosen those confines and produce a more democratic champion. In a contest between the occasionally controversial #1 and the unpredictability of a playoff system, I'll take my chances with the current BCS model.

It's ridiculously silly to assume the post-season model NCAA basketball employs will produce the best possible result in football. There's a reason it's called March Madness. The image that eternally represents the unpredictable electricity of this one-and-done tournament is Jimmy V running around Albuquerque looking for somebody to hug.

On the other side of the extreme, the College World Series is more methodical and conservative in its Best of 7 approach; the parity in baseball is much closer than in basketball and football and this serves its own interests. Obviously, employing this model in football is in nobody's interest.

The latest idea being run up the flag pole is the Plus One. Many coaches and university presidents may salute, but not enough to innoculate themselves from the innevitable firestorm to come from the coach of the first #5 team under this system.

I like the current BCS system. That being said, it's the worst way collegiate football has chosen to crown a champion, except for all others.

But were I to favor a playoff system, I'd propose a 12 team, 11 game system with the top 4 seeds receiving a first round bye.

My suppositions:

1. There is more parity in college basketball and baseball than in college football. Therefore, there should be fewer tournament games to retain spectator attention and sponsorship participation.

2. Playoff bowl sites will increase regional enthusiasm for the fans, local economic figures for the host cities, recruiting channels for the teams, and overall profits for the conferences.

3. The four elite Bowls (Fiesta, Sugar, Rose, and Orange) should keep their status; Second-tier bowls (Holiday, Cotton, Gator, and Capital One) should be included in the rota.

[By the way, check out the plans for the new Arlington stadium; that thing's gonna be incredible. The way I see it, Dallas had their chance to upgrade the Cotton Bowl and didn't. Innovative cities with innovative legislators are going to find a way to compete.]

It gives the top dozen teams a chance and takes away their argument of not being considered for a championship; with a system like this over the last three seasons, 13.9% of the play-off participants would have come from non-BCS Conferences*. It simultaneously rewards the top four teams for winning throughout their respective seasons (and presumeably winning their conference championship) but still makes them win three games to lift the Sears trophy.

It would also eliminate the six or seven week lay-off from a team's final conference game to their only bowl game.

The winners? Non-BCS conferences, mid-tier bowl cities, fans, Vegas and other independent practitioners, sports commentators, and corporate sponsors.

The losers? Top-tier conferences risking the importance (read, revenue) of a conference championship game and the historical bowl tie-in. Hence, the snowball's chance.

And my wife who would have to tolerate a month-long play-off system instead of the current two week get-em-all-over-with-at-once inundation.



* I included the Independents in the list of non-BCS conferences. Incidentally, Notre Dame could be the factor that pushes me over the side of play-off system; no team with nine consecutive bowl losses should be invited back over and over again to a premier bowl just because they have "Notre Dame" on their jerseys.

Quick Thoughts

Three quick sports moments (of course) from our household.

- I only have enough space in my head for the important stuff.

On our way home from the football game last Saturday night, Melissa and I were talking about how great the punter from the other team was. His punts carried at least 40 yards and got several more from the roll; at least twice, he pinned Robinson within the 5. Melissa's comment - "He reminded me of that kid who played at A&M in the late Nineties." My reply - "Yeah, Shane Lechler, he was awesome; he was the only reason y'all beat Texas 20-16 in '99. Forget McCown to Bumgardner, it was Lechler. He was also the only reason y'all be K-State in double overtime for the Big 12 Championship."

Then, about five minutes later: "Hey, you haven't seen my money clip, have you? It's been missing since yesterday."

- Sports also have a way of making you (me) feel old. I got home from the mall at 8 last night, just in time to watch Texas and Arkansas. The big story was this was the first time the two teams faced each other since 1991.

Doing some rough math, I was the approximate age of most of the starters on UT's team and their starters were the approximate age of my youngest nephew the last time this rivalry occurred.

They have no memory of Strollin' Nolan; the SWC days and Barnhill South; Todd Day bowin' up to LJ.

- Speaking of quasi-irrelevant and should-be-forgotten-about moments from a decade and a half ago:

I was talking to a friend today about our favorite courses we've played. He mentioned playing the Ocean Course at Kiawah Island. Of course, I asked if Calcavechhia was still crying. Acknowledging the on-going cruelty of the situation, he mentioned a buddy of his played his tee shot to the 17th green within a couple of inches from the pin. He danced around the tee box singing, "Take that, Calc!". Of course, he was playing the whites and didn't have the entire world watching his every shot.

Still, it never gets old.

Without Rival

There have been older rivalries, for sure. There have even been rivalries with stronger national ranking implications at stake. And obviously, there have been rivalries with more vitriol and mutual hate among players and their respective fanatics.

No other rivalry, however, has the awe-inspiring aura of the Army-Navy game.

I've been watching this year's installment of what I consider to be the greatest rivalry in college football.

Two primary factors lead me to this conclusion:

1) No other rivalry has comparable parity. Take Texas/OU and Texas/A&M, for example. Texas enjoys a 57-39-5 record in the former and a 73-35-5 record in the latter. Observers of these and other regional rivalries will note that they have all experienced multiple eras whereby one team exerts unbridled dominance over the other every other decade or so.

Not so with Army-Navy. As of last year, Navy sits uncomfortably with a 50-49-7 edge over their inter-service brethren.

True, there are times where one team clearly outshines the other; multiple years of consecutive wins are the exception, Navy's current 4-year streak notwithstanding.

2) No other rivalry has comparable mutual respect. For the most part, mutual respect exists only on the coaching level - and even that's barely masked. For players and fans, there is absolute hate and contempt with nothing less than that deemed acceptable. At the end of each Army-Navy game, however, both teams stand side-by-side and face the other's stands while both school songs are played.

Now imagine Texas fans doing anything other than puking their guts out while those in-breeds play Boomer Sooner and you'll know what I'm talking about.

I can only imagine the thoughts of these players who take the field for their last collegiate contest.

Most players of better-known rivalries (Michigan/OSU, USC/Notre Dame, Alabama/Auburn) understand that greener fields and larger paychecks are reserved for Sunday players.

These kids are surely thinking of it as more than just their last game; assignment and deployment are the future.

It is a game whereby amateur and student-athlete truly mean something. I can name only one NFL legend emerging from this rivalry. In a radio interview yesterday morning, he said it was the most nervous he had ever been before a game, noting that he also played in multiple playoff games and several Super Bowls.

But playing before the President, himself a Naval officer, caused a sleepless night.

Most acts of patriotism are symbolic; many are complete gimmicks.

This game, however, gives me pause and seamlessly fuses love for country and sport.

Sunday Night Thoughts

- Perhaps part of the problem with being so highly opinionated is a certain need to remain attached to those opinions in light of new evidence or situations. Lucky thing I don't feel that very often.

Granted, my opinions may not change very often, but when they do, I remain equally firm in the new ones as when I felt to the contrary.

For instance, I wrote almost a month ago that I couldn't care less about the NFL.

Last Thursday night, I was watching the TSU/Nichols State game; TSU scored a touchdown as the clock expired; they needed the two-point conversion to force an overtime. The quarterback ran a busted option to the right side. As he was being tackled, he stretched out to put the ball over the goal line. He came up 6 inches short.

My first thought fell back to 3 or 4 years ago where a Super Bowl ended in a very similar situation. Just having an NFL play in the DVR of my mind is rare enough.

Over the past week, I've been excited about the NFL games today. I actually listened to the Cowboys/Redskins game on the radio while running errands by myself today. I've been watching the Colts/Patriots game tonight and am thoroughly enjoying it.

Opinions - everybody's got one and they all stink.

- This story is so typical of my father-in-law:

He and some buddies went to Vegas this weekend. One of the activities was golf.

When they got to the locker room, they found a locker reserved for Eldrick Woods. Larry needed a locker for his shoes and clothing while he played.

A buddy of Larry's said, Oh come on, just go ahead and use it. What're the chances he's going to show up today?

Guess who showed up with MJ (who has his own locker and Carolina blue golf cart) to play Saturday afternoon?

Well, when Larry finished his round and got back to the locker room, his stuff had been tossed out of the locker and was waiting for him on the bench.

Typical Larry.

A Lot Of Action...

Obviously, nobody in the State of Texas is going to get it this year. Except by default since last year's will soon be returned.

Quinn doesn't want it. Peterson may, but he doesn't have a coach who can help him get it.

Leak didn't play like he wanted it.

Smith may get it if he's not neutralized by his former high school and current teammate.

Slaton's only a sophomore so he's out.

Nobody outside the SEC knows anything about Iron.

I'll bet the boys at the Yale Club are real excited.