College Football Recruiting

[Updated below] Have you heard about the recruiting hoax that some kid (Kevin Hart) made up because he so wanted to be a college football player? Really quite sad, and I think that Hart's story serves as an interesting contrast to Pat Forde's column earlier this week about kids not following through on their verbal commitments to colleges.

The columnist writing about Hart, Gene Wojciechowski, is actually quite sympathetic to Hart for making up his lie. He recognizes that having to face up to the humiliation caused by the truth coming out is quite a punishment for Hart to face. It sounds that he won't be prosecuted for filing a false police report either. Wojciechowski points to the failure by the adults in Hart's life to realize that Hart's story didn't add up, and indirectly suggests that the hype surrounding college recruiting, including that from his employer ESPN, contributed to Hart doing what he did:

Hart apparently was overwhelmed by his fixation on playing big-time football, on being wanted, on the need to replicate what he had seen done by actual blue-chip players on National Signing Day: the semi-insanity of high school seniors announcing their college decisions on local and even national television outlets, including ESPNU.

Then there's Forde's column, which concludes by placing blame wholly on the high school seniors:

But college football players need to reacquaint themselves with the meaning of the word commitment. It doesn't mean you're going steady until something hotter comes along.

These kids may reasonably have a change of heart over one of the most important decisions of their young lives, but it's more than that. Forde somehow disregards that the recruiting hype and media attention (in large part created by his employer) puts ridiculous scrutiny over their decisions. Worst of all, he wholly ignores the coaching carousel (he only mentions coaches getting fired), and the fact that some of the backing out he decries happens because the adults, i.e., the coaches that recruited them, don't keep their written commitments. Implicit in his omission is a suggestion that somehow it's worse for the these young adults to not honor verbal commitments than it is for head football coaches to not honor their written contracts. He recognizes that once a kid signs a letter of intent, he's committed. But at the same time, he seems unable to accept that the whole purpose of the letter of intent is a recognition that an oral contract isn't worth the paper it's written on.

Update (the morning after my insomniatic posting): The bottom line to me is that Forde seems to put a college football program's ability to rely on a kid's commitment to fill its recruiting class above the kid's need to make the best decision for his future. I think he has it backwards.

Orange Bowl

In the first ever ACC championship game, FSU upset Virginia Tech, and now they represent the ACC in the Orange Bowl against Penn State despite an 8-4 record. While it might not make for an interesting game, I think the real excitement could rest in seeing whether FedEx, the sponsor of the Orange Bowl, will sell this year's sponsorship to the highest bidder. With 76-year-old Bobby Bowden coaching the Seminoles against the 11-1 Nittany Lions, led by 79-year-old coach Joe Paterno, I can see FedEx making a bundle in the resulting bidding war between Metamucil and Depends, though perhaps AARP would outbid them both.

News of Back Home

I used to joke that the four seasons I experienced growing up in North Florida were summer, summer, summer, and football. And because I was there long before the Jaguars joined the NFL, football meant college football. One's loyalty generally went to one of two places, either the Gators of the University of Florida, or the Seminoles of Florida State University. I went with the latter, and years later ended up attending Florida State Law.

Ah yes, the Seminoles. Complete with the Tomahawk Chop (long before the Atlanta Braves imported it as their own), and an undergrad decked out in traditional Seminole Indian garb riding a horse and throwing a burning spear onto the midfield logo just before the start of each home football game. Some folks are offended by the name as being racist, but the school has the support of the Seminole Tribe of Florida, which has maintained a good relationship with the university (though there were rumors of their endorsement coming in exchange for financial considerations).

Today, those offended by the name were able to carry the day, as the NCAA has made it exceedingly difficult for colleges sports teams to keep using Indian names or mascots:

Nicknames or mascots deemed "hostile or abusive" would not be allowed on team uniforms or other clothing beginning with any NCAA tournament after Feb. 1.

. . .

The NCAA plans to ban schools using Indian nicknames from hosting postseason events.

I was not at all surprised to learn that Florida State plans to challenge this decision, so I guess this one should be filed under "to be continued."

Having been a fan since childhood, I guess I'm a bit biased, but I don't see why it's offensive. The name used is tribal in origin, rather than something that has an historically negative connotation such as Redskins. Plus, a significant segment of the Seminole people has worked with the university in an effort to respectfully represent the Seminole culture (after I wrote this, a google search showed me this article by a Native American that supports my distinction more eloquently than I do).

One question I have is why NCAA doesn't deem the nickname Fighting Irish, complete with a leprachaun for a mascot, similarly offensive. On its face the disparate treatment seems hypocritical, but perhaps there's a logical reason to differentiate.

The New Blue Devils

Making the cross-sport college-pro comparison...

Duke is a dynasty -- they've been at or near the top of college basketball, with the exception of one year, for as long as Mike Krzyzewski has been their coach. How have they done it?

Coach K has recruited numerous All-Americans, which puts him in select company in the college basketball world -- fewer than 25 teams are able to lure All-Americans with any consistency. That being said, however, very few of the Duke players have ever done anything great in the NBA (had not injuries derailed much of his career, Grant Hill could be considered in the great category, but he might be the only one) -- many of his top players have been relative flops (Danny Ferry, anyone?). In other words, they're good players, but they're not the elite, and Duke has been successful even though they've lacked the top talent in the game. Duke wins because of the coach and his system, because the players believe in the coach and his system, and because the players sublimate their egos (at least, as much as college-aged BMOCs can do so) for the good of the team.

This seems to be the blueprint that the New England Patriots are following, and why they may someday be a dynasty.

Super Bowl -- Dynasty?

So the day after the Patriots won the Super Bowl, the question that seems to be on people's minds is whether the Patriots have created a dynasty. To me this question is absurd. The Patriots are a great team, and deserve accolades for what they have accomplished. To win back-to-back titles in this era of parity, let alone three in four years, speaks volumes about the players, the coaches, and the management of the team. The team is greater than the sum of its parts, and its success seems due to the mentality of the team and the genius of the coaching staff. Whether the team will win next year depends on how well they replace their departing coordinators, Weis and Crennel, and whether other teams take advantage of their greater talent (the Patriots were not the more talented team on the field last night).

They have won their Super Bowls, appreciate (or despise) what they have accomplished, and recognize that they may indeed repeat. But don't call them a dynasty unless and until they rule the roost for more than two years. It's hard to count the "three-in-four-years" thing when the team didn't just not win the Super Bowl after it won once, it didn't even make the playoffs. Show me a team that wins consistently (and by consistent, I mean at least five years) before you call them a dynasty. Let's see them make the playoffs each of the next three years and win at least one more Super Bowl, and then I'll think in terms of dynasty.