The Day After Tomorrow

It feels like I just jumped out of an airplane and realized about .0003 seconds after my feet left the metal that I didn’t have on a parachute.

It feels like I just stopped by my parents to drop the car off and nobody was home because they were supposed to be working and my mom just caught me alone with one of her Glamour magazines, if you know what I mean.

It was like breaking up with a girl you really liked for three hours and at a few points you think it will work out but at the very end of it, she starts making out with a better guy right in front of you as Charles Davis and Thom Brennaman talk about it.

It’s just the worst feeling in the world. Period. No question. It just is. I spent all of yesterday wandering around my house with the same feeling in my gut as you have when you zoom by a Highway Patrolman and you know you’re going 12 over. You know, the “Oh, eff” moment where your stomach leaps out your mouth and you can’t calm down and stop looking in your rearview mirror until you’re about 14 miles down the road? Yeah, that feeling. All day. But then imagine him pulling you over nine hours later and writing you a two million dollar ticket.

I kept trying to prepare myself to lose. Mentally getting ready for the worst. I convinced myself that my confidence level was a three out of 10 and that Florida could likely beat the ’72 Dolphins. I told myself this. It was all in an effort to try and prevent the feeling I have today if the worst came to fruition. Didn’t work. It still sucks more than forgetting your lunch in second grade.

I knew we were in trouble after I pulled out a classic “It’s over routine” early in the fourth quarter and my dad didn’t disagree. He knew it too. He could feel it. OU blew its chances. And you just CANNOT do that against a team like Florida.

It’s simple. Last night’s game came down to four plays:
A. OU failing to get in the end zone of fourth down on the one.
B. OU failing to get points right before halftime.
C. Sam Bradford’s “interception” ( I put it in quotes, because it was a great freaking throw) after Florida took a 17-14 lead.
D. Florida’s third and six conversion inside the OU 10 with under three to go that led to the clinching touchdown.

Really and truly, you flip ONE, just one of those plays around and OU wins. It’s true. That’s how crazy football is. Instead of double-clutching it, Juaquin Iglesias comes down with that seed Sammy threw and OU is in scoring position to go up 21-17 with nine minutes left. Get a stop on third and six and Florida settles for three, Sam becomes the biggest hero in Sooner history as he leads a game-winning drive to a 21-20 victory. Let OU get in on fourth and goal and it’s at least 14-7 heading to the locker room with the Sooners beaming with confidence. But instead, none of it went OU’s way. I’m going to be that guy: There’s nothing for the Sooners to hang their head about. They were ready, they played their onions off but they just came up short. That doesn’t mean it still doesn’t hurt like a Nolan Ryan fastball to the groin.

I’m afraid to turn on the TV or listen to the radio. I don’t want to see or hear the consequences. I know OU played well and showed up. I know there’s no shame in losing to Florida. But when you’re as heartbroken as I am, that really doesn’t matter. What mattered was that crystal ball and we didn’t get it. But I don’t think I can turn on The Animal today and hear this for five straight hours:

Jim Traber: You’re on the Sports An-e-mal, go ahead please.
Caller: Hey Jim, two quick points: Fire Bob Stoops and Tim Tebow can cure cancer.
Jim: Okay, no more lunatics today please. Look, I bow down to the Florida Gators. I bow down to Tim Tebow. I have all the respect for the guy in the world. I hear what you’re sayin’ bruther, but enough of Tebow. You know what I’m saying? (Weird laugh) Enough already. But boy, my Steelers got a big game this week. I really like Ben---
Al Eschbach: Let me tell you something Jim. If Tim Tebow doesn’t win this game, people still love this guy and still think he’s the best. (Next sentence indiscernible). Back to the phones… you’re on the Sports Animal, goheadplease.
Caller 2: Hey Jim and Al. I think last night’s game was excellent but let me say this: If we’re going to pay Bob Stoops all this money, he should be able to win a big game. Any time we played a good team, we lost.
Al: (Nearing a conniption) What are you talking about? Nobody feels worse than Bob Stoops. Nobody. Youjustplayedinanationalchamionshipgameandlosttoagreatteam! What else do you want? Hang up on this moron.
Jim: It was a great game wasn’t it Al? Nothing for the Sooners to hang their heads about.
Al: Oh YEAH. It was un-a-believe-able.
Jim: But I’ll tell you what Al, it was those daggone third downs. If OU gets two or three more stops on third down, they win the daggone game. Plain and simple. They win. They win the game. Does that make sense?
Al: Un-a-believe-able.
Jim: We’ve got Berry Tramel here. What did you think of the game Tram?
Berry: Wellllp…. You know... I don’ t think Oklahoma played all that…. bad. Bob Stoops… uh…really didn’t…uh, uh… do a bad job. Not really. No.
Jim: But Tram, didn’t---
Berry: (Still talking, oblivious to Jim) It’s kind of like what Alfalfa Bill Murray would say, uh, Jim. If you never get off the tractor, you may not cut any grass. Or like Waleetka's old high school football coach said to me one time -- there's nothing worse, uh, than cutting your bread and finding out you don't have any gasoline in your car.
Jim: Alright Tram, but you didn’t think the call on fourth and---
Berry: Because Stoops has won his fair share of big games. He really has.
Jim: I know Tram, but what’s been the final score for each of the last five of these BCS games? Maybe Matty can look that up for us. Matty, can you see about that? Oh, well let’s take a break. Where ya at Al?
Al: BobHowardChevroletinNormanwheretheyhavegreatdealsoneverythingfromtruckstominivans. Besuretostopbyandcheckouttheirzeropercentfinancing. All the way from Hell, this is the total.
(dead air)
Al: Tot-al.
Jim: Dom-inance
Berry: Hou-arrrr.

Then two more weeks of choke talk, the random “Fire Stoops” calls, Jim and Al doing everything they can to talk sense into people about OU playing well, but Florida just being good and Berry Tramel’s folksy schtick getting really old. The morons call in and the mass majority of the fan base that’s completely normal and sane sit in our cars and listen to the idiots. Because we don’t need to tell Jim Traber how we feel. It’s not going to make anything better. The 95 percent of us that actually have a functioning brain in our head aren’t overreacting, aren’t freaking out and aren’t embarrassing ourselves. We’re just replaying every crucial play in our heads and wishing we would have won.

Here’s the thing: Bob Stoops is as good a coach as you can possibly have. If he and I were in a bank together and it was being robbed and the gunman wanted to make an example out of someone and he grabbed Bob, I’d say, “Take me instead.” I love that man. Like seriously, love him. He was born to be a football coach, as Chad Pennington would say, reeks class and is a fine, fine human being. OU didn’t lose because of him. OU lost because Florida was just a little better. In a damn fine football game, Florida won. Imagine how much this game hurts you – now multiply that by 6,000 and you’ve got how Stoops feels. And no, Stoops isn’t going to run to the basement like Scooge in Ducktales and dive into a huge pile of money and automatically feel better. Sure he makes lots of money, but I guarantee you he’d rather have that trophy right now. So don’t give me that.

But next time. Oh Lord, next time. If you think the questions were bad this go around about the past four BCS losses and so on, next time it’s going to be like Ray Finkel times two. What do you know about PRESSURE? Stoops is going to be hammered. Granted, it will help that OU showed up in a good, solid way (copyright: Bob Stoops) and played a great game, but he’ll still have to answer. But I’d rather go to the National Title game 20 straight years and lose, than never be there at all. It hurts to not reap the reward of winning – but there’s nothing better than basking in the light of a title. And as Bobby says, you have to be in it to win it.

It’s a strange thing, sports. You pour your heart and soul into a team for six months, following every little thing it does. You read every newspaper, watch every highlight, catch every coach’s show. You wear your Gameday Shirt during every game because you believe in that shirt. And when it fails you, it goes in the back of the closet and joins four other Never To Be Worn Agains. You go to battle for them. You argue with some buddy named Dave for hours about them as if it matters a whole freaking lot. This is what you do. And if it all goes right, it culminates on a night on the national stage where it’s all worth it. People kept trying to tell me leading up to it that it was just a game. Just a little football game that really doesn’t matter. Life goes on, the sun will rise tomorrow, whatever. And while yes, it is ultimately just a game, to many of us, it’s more. It’s a team that we love like an only child, that we live and die with everything they do. It’s like as a parent, when your child hurts, you hurt. And right now, my team is hurting. It’s a game, sure. But the school colors, the fight song, the players, the chants, the tradition. It’s just part of us.

So what now? Sam might go pro, Jermaine Gresham probably has one foot out the door and a good crop of seniors graduate – or at least run out of eligibility. Quite honestly, I’m not thinking about next year yet. I will once spring football rolls around, but not now. This is the grieving period. So, so close, but so, sooooo freaking close. Is there a possibility to be here again next year? Absolutely. Is there a possibility to go 9-3? Sure. Either way, will I likely go completely insane following everything little detail and loving every minute of it? Lock it up.

Baited and Switched

There's a reason Bob Stoops hates the media. And a pretty good reason too. What just happened with the media in Miami is Exhibit A for “Why Bob Stoops is colder to reporters than my wife’s toes are to my leg at 6 AM.”

Coach Stoops spoke to a class I took at OU a couple years ago. It was a class on sports journalism and the first thing Stoops said was, “Speaking with the media on a daily basis is my least favorite thing about my job.” And the situation with Dominique Franks and supposed “bulletin board” material sums Stoops’ sentiment up pretty nicely.

In case you're boycotting all things ESPN, here's what Franks said:
"If you look at the three best quarterbacks in the country, they came from the Big 12. The three best receivers in the country came from the Big 12. The three best tight ends came from the Big 12. So we've faced some great offenses, and a lot of people don't understand that other conferences don't have what we face … Going into a game and knowing a quarterback's going to throw the ball 40 times a game versus coming into a game and knowing he's probably only going to throw it about 15 or 20. ... It makes it a lot harder to prepare for those [Big 12] guys.”

Total bulletin board material. Pin it up there. Put it right next to, "We respect Florida a lot. They're a great team and they play in a great conference," and "We just want to go out and play our game regardless of what Florida does." Because if the Gators can somehow use those quotes to motivate them, then they can use Franks' too. Because what he said wasn't over-the-line. Heck, it wasn't even close to toeing it. But when you slap headlines like "Franks not impressed by Tebow" on it, then yeah, that could be bulletin board material. Except for the fact Dom never said that or NEVER implied that he's not impressed by Tebow. The bulletin board material isn't coming from Franks. It's coming from the moronic writers and editors writing and reporting the story.

This is what the media does. While some of it may not be intentional, this is what happens. They stir the you know what. It's what pays their salary. How long can ESPN broadcast Jesse Palmer and Mark May spend breaking down the X's and O's of the National Title Game and seeing who can out-do the other by saying "FOOTBALL" in every sentence? Because after three weeks of it already, if I hear Jesse Palmer say, "In this FOOTBALL game, Florida really needs to run the FOOTBALL. But the Gator defense also has to be able to get off the FOOTBALL field and take the FOOTBALL away from OU. FOOTBALL." I swear, he said it five times in a single sentence last week. So instead of making us all want to grab a FOOTBALL and throw it as Jesse Palmer's face, they stir the poo. They ask questions like "Who's going to win this game?" What purpose does that question serve other than to get next morning's headline? "McCoy predicts Sooner victory!" It's a completely loaded question with only one usable answer in the eyes of the reporter. If he predicts win, I've got something. If he says, "I don't know... it'll be a good game," then I immediately discard that one. Anyone see how ridiculous that is?

Here's how it goes down:
Reporter A walks up to an OU player. Doesn't matter what player. It could be Dominique Franks. It could be Quentin Chaney. Heck, it could be Derek Freaking Gove. Doesn't matter. He's going to get the same answer.

Reporter A: Hey Dominique. Got a little more time?
Franks: Sure.
Reporter A: That Florida offense sure has to be tough to prepare for, right? All the moving before the ball is snapped and all the weapons.
Franks: Sure, sure. You know, they got a lot of talent. They move around and make it tough on you. But we'll be ready.
Reporter A: What makes preparing for Florida different than preparing for one of the Big 12's great offenses -- say Texas Tech, Oklahoma State or Texas?
Franks: Going into a game and knowing a quarterback's going to throw the ball 40 times a game versus coming into a game and knowing he's probably only going to throw it about 15 or 20. ... It makes it a lot harder to prepare for those [Big 12] guys.

See what the reporter did there? Totally innocent question. Equally innocent answer. You asked, he answered. But regurgitate that answer in a news story under the headline of "OU cornerback provides some fodder for Gator offense" and you've got something.

Reporter A: Your defense has been criticized all year long for giving up lots of points and yardage. Is that fair considering the opponents you’ve had to face?
Franks: If you look at the three best quarterbacks in the country, they came from the Big 12. The three best receivers in the country came from the Big 12. The three best tight ends came from the Big 12. So we've faced some great offenses, and a lot of people don't understand that other conferences don't have what we face.

Then the reporter runs off, hammers out a no-brainer story and sends it in. The next day all the stooges sit there in front of Tebow and Urban Meyer and get to ask, "Hey Tim, one OU player says you'd be the fourth best quarterback in the Big 12. Did you hear that?" “Hey Coach Meyer, an OU player says he’ll know your offense better than you when the game starts. What do YOU think about that?” When in fact, Franks said NOTHING out of bounds. He just said things that were completely truthful. The three top quarterbacks in the country are from the Big 12. The three top receivers are from the Big 12. The three top tight ends are from the Big 12. Look it up. It’s academic.

Again, what was Franks supposed to say? "No Comment"? Or, "Uh, Tebow would probably be No. 1 quarterback in our conference. He's so good. I hope he doesn't pass for 2,000 yards against us. Sam ain't even close to him in ability. Or character. Did you see that piece with him going to the Philippines or whatever? Sam never did that. Sam's just some Indian. Tebow is out there saving lives with sutures and circumcisions and whatnot."

Buried in that story or not even mentioned is all the trash the Gators have talked. The line Brandon Spikes tossed out saying Big 12 defenses are slow. Tebow saying he’d love to play against Big 12 defenses. And all the other junk that’s been said.

I've been there. I've been part of this media horde. These sick hyenas that prey around the locker room with their little press badge around their neck, their extra 200 pounds, their Ray Ratto mustaches and their little recorder in one hand always pretending to be messing with it so that it doesn't look like they're not doing anything. They stand there, look around the room, see a player not talking to anyone and approach him. Ask a few questions, shake the player's hand, thank them for their time and smile like they're best buds. Then they leave and walk to their laptop and grind out a 300-word story with the lead being "BULLETIN BOARD MATERIAL -- FRANKS TOSSES FIRST BLOW."

It’s no wonder Bob Stoops hates these guys. It's why when I was around him, I was always wearing diapers because I was partly terrified and partly going, "Holy crap! It's Bob Stoops! Right here! Right in front of me!" That may be why in my three-year career as a student journalist I asked Coach Stoops precisely three questions. Another reason is because all the idiots standing around me were already taking care of all the stupid ones and pissing Stoops off. It's like kicking a friendly Pit Bull in the face over and over again. At first, he'll be nice and try and brush you off. Then he'll get a little testy. And finally, he'll freak out on you and tear your face off. I never wanted to be the last guy that got his face torn off.

Why should Stoops be nice? I used to wonder why he wasn’t. Now I wonder why he is at all. Some days, he’s a joy. He’ll crack jokes, he’ll smile and he’ll show off his extremely sharp wit. But some days, asking him a question is like messing with Sasquatch. And most times, those days happen after an episode like this or after someone (I’ll withhold names) ask the completely brain-busting question like, “How good is this football team?” and the always thoughtful, “What are you seeing out of (insert opponent) that concerns you?”

I know these questions are necessary. Because that’s what sports journalism is all about. It’s about getting the quote, writing down the quote and plugging it into a story. For some reason, people accept “It’s not as good as it can be” to the question “How good is this football team?” It’s mindless regurgitation of clichés and one-liners, but we’re all ok with it. And why wouldn’t you just spit those little one-liners out all the time if you were in their spot? Especially when some overweight, Hawaiian-shirt-wearing, mustached weirdo is dangling a recorder three inches from your face and asking you baited questions.

But Stoops said it perfectly at media day. Reporters lead these young athletes down a path, manipulating them for a story. They bait them for the bulletin board. Franks sat there with some guy he's never met and the guy asked him questions. And Dom answered. It's not like the guy asked, "Where do you think Tim Tebow would be as a passer in the Big 12?" and Franks responded with, "He sucks. He'd be behind Stephen McGee. We're going to hit Tebow so hard he'll cry. We're going to dominate Florida. He didn't deserve the Heisman last year and didn't deserve to be in the same ballpark as Sam this year." But with the way the media is reporting this thing, you’d think Franks had said he was going to kill Tebow’s future baby.

Reporters and the media are part of this whole process. But sometimes, when you take a step back and don’t just read the story, you can see there’s maybe more to it. If OU loses January 8th, then is it Dominique Franks’ fault? Did he give Tim Tebow extra motivation? If Tim Tebow needs extra motivation for the biggest game of his life, then maybe he needs to stay in the Philippines sewing up wounds. The fact is, Franks was asked a question and he answered. Add in the little things like, “But Franks didn’t stop there…” and “Tebow historically plays better after BEING CALLED OUT by an opponent," and boy, you've got a real zinger.

Once it’s settled January 8th, one side can talk all it wants. Until then, you better shut up or some reporter might bite you.