Having a tough time watching Steve Spurrier this week, I expect more of him

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There is probably no football coach I like more than Steve Spurrier. I first met the Ol’ Ball Coach (I know he is generally known more often as the Head Ball Coach) but my memory is that he referred to himself as the Ol’ Ball Coach years ago) when he was the offensive coordinator at Duke in the early 1980s and was primarily responsible for the development of quarterback Ben Bennett who—believe it or not—beat out Boomer Esiason for ACC player-of-the-year as a senior.

Bennett’s stats and Duke’s respectable record back then were due in large part to Spurrier. That wasn’t why I liked him though: it was his sense of humor, his irreverence and his honesty. The OBC told you exactly what he thought and he often did it in a way that made you laugh.

And he was very damn good at what he did. I’d make the case that his three years as head coach at Duke, when the Blue Devils went 20-13-1 and tied for an ACC title were as good a coaching job as anyone has done anywhere in college football in the last 30 years. If you don’t believe me just look at Duke’s record since he left.

He went on to fame and fortune and a national championship (1996) at Florida, then made the mistake of being tempted by the NFL after 12 seasons as head Gator. The mistake wasn’t so much wanting to see if he could succeed one level up as WHERE he went to find out: Little Danny Snyder land. Snyder was still a good eight years away from being willing to cede any control to a coach and the Redskins, in part because Spurrier was learning on the job, but also because Snyder was still making his coaches watch tape with him back then, were awful.

After two years, Spurrier decided he’d had enough and walked away from the remaining $15 million left on his contract. Once, when I brought up Snyder’s name to him and said I’d felt sorry for him dealing with the guy for two years, Spurrier laughed. “I don’t have anything against old Danny,” he said. “He paid me a lot of money to put up with all that s----.”

Yes he did.

Because he lost a lot of games and didn’t play coaches games trying to shift blame and because he just walked away, most of the media in Washington—many of them die-hard Redskin fans—made him an object of ridicule. (Still do). One radio guy who I consider a friend called him “pathetic,” when a story appeared in The Washington Post chronicling the fact that he had opted to stay out of coaching for a year so that his youngest son wouldn’t have to move as a high school senior.

Really, putting your son first is pathetic? Thinking that and saying it on the air—now THAT’S pathetic.

The good side of Spurrier is rarely talked about. He and his wife Gerry, who have been married more than 40 years, went out and adopted a new family after their own kids had grown. In 1997, I was trying to round up auction items for a charity and called Spurrier on a Friday morning to see if I could get a football autographed by his national championship team. His secretary asked if he could call back Monday since he and the team were about to leave for a road game. Of course.

Five minutes later the phone rang. It was Spurrier. This was before everyone had a cell phone.

“Isn’t the bus leaving right now for the airport?” I asked.

“You know, last I looked I was head ball coach of this team (he DID say head ball coach that time) and I don’t think they’re going to leave without me. What’s up?”

He didn’t send an autographed football—he sent two. There was a note: “See if you can bid this up a little and maybe do that trick where you say you’ll get two if the second bidder will match the first.”

I say all this because I’m having a very tough time with what is going on at South Carolina this week.

First, the school announced it was tossing Stephen Garcia off the football team once and for all. My guess is Garcia DID violate the terms of his FIFTH return from suspension to the team and, sadly, the internet rumor is that he may have failed a mandatory alcohol-test.

You know what? I don’t care. When Spurrier and the school still needed him to play quarterback, they kept bringing him back, saying he was a fine young man who deserved one more chance. Now, when he couldn’t produce in the final minute of the loss to Auburn two weeks ago and got benched, he’s off the team for good.

It just LOOKS bad. It looks like a classic case of, ‘we don’t need this kid anymore, so, as Athletic Director Eric Hyman said in his smarmy statement about ‘student-athletes,’ they wish him luck with the rest of his life and send him packing.

Seriously? That’s it? We were 100 percent behind you as long as you could win football games for us but now that your eligibility is just about up and a younger QB has taken your job, thanks for the memories? IF he failed an alcohol test, the school at the very least owes him help—whether it is counseling or rehab or both. Clearly, the last two weeks haven’t been good for him: he fails in the Auburn game; gets benched and then sees Connor Shaw, his successor, have a big game against Kentucky.

One thing I know for sure: Stephen Garcia won’t be an NFL quarterback—he’s the kind of guy who might get kept around to hold a clipboard EXCEPT that he’s had off-field problems.  The fact that he got his degree last spring would indicate he was at least TRYING to deal with his problem, all the more reason why he should be allowed to remain part of the team, regardless of whether he ever plays another down.

Just as the Garcia news was breaking on Tuesday, the OBC showed up for his weekly press conference. But rather than talking about the win over Kentucky (yawn) or this week’s game against Mississippi State (more yawns) the OBC launched into a diatribe against Ron Morris, a long time columnist for The State Newspaper in Columbia.

Repeatedly he called Morris a “negative guy,” and railed against a column Morris wrote in the spring about the decision of South Carolina point guard Bruce Ellington to also play football this fall. In the column, Morris wrote that Spurrier had been, “courting Ellington since the end of football season,” to join his team. Morris didn’t say Spurrier was wrong to court him or that basketball coach Darrin Horn was upset about it. He went on to discuss how difficult it is for any athlete to play two sports in this day and age and speculated that playing football would hurt Ellington’s development as a basketball player.

Sis months later, Spurrier walked into a press conference and declared he wouldn’t talk while Morris was in the room. He said this had been bothering him for months, that he had never recruited Ellington until after Ellington had talked to Horn about playing football and it was, “his right,” to not talk to a reporter who was, “trying to hurt our football team.”

Of course it’s his right. But he’s wrong. I’ve known Morris for almost 30 years since his days in Durham. He doesn’t make stuff up. SOMEONE told him Spurrier was “courting,” Ellington. Maybe it was the kid. Maybe it was Horn. Morris didn’t make it up, I promise you that. And he didn’t write it to, “hurt the football team.”

I’ve been in a lot of battles like this myself. Years ago, the Maryland football team, under orders from its coach, “voted,” not to speak to me because I’d written a three-part series, with every single quote on the record, about why the program had hit a ceiling and was slipping. Of course the way I found out about the “vote,” was that several players called to tell me about it. When I covered Lefty Driesell, who is now a close friend, we fought almost daily.

Several years back, Gary Williams was complaining to me about Josh Barr, who was then The Post’s beat writer covering his team. Barr was (and is) good and when you’re good (like Morris) and not a cheerleader you are bound to clash with any coach you cover because every team has things happen that a coach would rather not see come out in public—even the good guys like the OBC and Lefty and Gary.

When Gary complained about Barr I said to him, “you understand, if I’d ever covered you on a daily basis we’d have been screaming at one another most of the time? Sometimes you have to write a story even if you know you’re going to get yelled at by a coach for writing it.”

Spurrier said he didn’t mind being criticized (and I think through most of his career that’s been true) but he didn’t like someone writing something that wasn’t true. I’m sure he means that. That said, Morris blistered him after the Auburn game, holding him responsible for the failed last drive. The OBC is human. You have to wonder if that column reminded him that he was upset about the Ellington story six months ago.

Regardless, he should have handled it in private with Morris. Scream, yell, curse—whatever. But don’t make yourself look like a bully. The OBC is a good man who is good at what he does. So is Morris. They should sit down and talk this out. And then Spurrier should make Stephen Garcia a student coach for the rest of the season and make sure he gets whatever help he needs.

I don’t expect a lot from football coaches most of the time. I do expect more from the OBC.

Monday's Washington Post Column -- Steve Spurrier's Gamecocks might have knocked SEC out of national title picture

South Carolina football Coach Steve Spurrier is not an e-mail guy. Those who wish to write to him about something need to use the United States Postal Service.

Spurrier may need to hire some extra help to open all his fan mail this week, after the Gamecocks beat a top-ranked football team for the first time in history Saturday, dominating Alabama from the start en route to a 35-21 victory.

There also might be a note or two from the lovely folks at NCAA headquarters in Indianapolis, who no doubt were not thrilled when Spurrier, in a postgame interview, made mention of the fact that his team was "only a 61/2- or 7-point underdog" in trying to emphasize that his team's victory wasn't completely surprising. Point spreads, as we all know, do not exist in NCAA World.

Last, but certainly not least, Spurrier might get a note from Southeastern Conference Commissioner Mike Slive. There may be a congratulations buried in there somewhere, but the real message will be this: "What in the world are you doing to my league, Ol' Ball Coach?"

The OBC and his team changed the tenor and tone of the entire college football season with their victory Saturday. Alabama's droning, seemingly inexorable march to a second straight national championship is over. The Crimson Tide are going to need a lot of help to get back to the national championship game, and that may very well mean the end of the SEC's four-year run of consecutive national champions.

Auburn and LSU are still undefeated - although how LSU has managed to go 6-0 defies all logic unless you believe, as many do, that Les Miles has made some kind of deal with the devil. Both teams can't go unbeaten, because they play one another in a couple of weeks. Both also have to play Alabama and LSU has a game with Arkansas. What that means is this: The likelihood of anyone coming out of the SEC undefeated is somewhere between slim and none.

Click here for the rest of the article: Steve Spurrier's Gamecocks might have knocked SEC out of national title picture

Washington Post column -- College coaching can be hazardous to one's health

Tuesday's column for the Washington Post:

Like millions of others, Syracuse basketball Coach Jim Boeheim watched the extraordinary finish of the Michigan State-Notre Dame game Saturday night. After the Spartans had won 34-31 in overtime on an audacious fake field goal attempt that they turned into a touchdown, Boeheim kept his TV on to watch the postgame interview with Michigan State Coach Mark Dantonio.

"I remember thinking as I watched, 'For a guy who just won an unbelievable game, he doesn't look too good,' " Boeheim said on Monday afternoon. "He almost looked a little bit sick."

As it turned out, Dantonio was sick. Several hours later, he was in the hospital, having surgery after suffering a heart attack. Michigan State is describing it as a "mild" heart attack. There is no such thing as a mild heart attack. Dantonio, 54, was very lucky.

"Sometimes you can be fit and in shape, and it happens to you anyway," South Carolina Coach Steve Spurrier said. "There are no guarantees in coaching except if you don't take care of yourself, you're almost guaranteed to have something happen. That's why I work out five days a week all year round. I've done it for as long as I've been coaching."

Coaching, especially on the so-called big-time level, is one of the more stressful jobs going, in part because there are limited opportunities each year to succeed (or fail) and in part because you are being judged by an unforgiving public every time your team goes out to compete. Coaches tend to keep crazy hours in-season. They often eat late at night, and they don't eat a lot of salads. 

Fifteen years ago Maryland basketball coach Gary Williams missed four games late in the season after being rushed to the hospital with pneumonia. As sick as he felt, he might not have gone if his trainer, J.J. Bush hadn't insisted on it.


Click here for the rest of the column: Coaching can be hazardous to one's health

Maybe the Ole Ball Coach Isn’t Done; Responding to Your Suggestions

So it turns out the ole ball coach isn't quite done yet. I didn't get to watch most of the South Carolina-Mississippi game Thursday night because I was at dinner interviewing Shaun Micheel to wrap up the research for the book I'm doing on the '03 majors when two complete unknowns (Micheel and Ben Curtis); one little known (Mike Weir) and one well known (Jim Furyk) all won their first--and to date--only major titles. The book's about sudden fame and how it changes your life.

Shaun got a call towards the end of dinner from his wife, an LSU grad, saying that South Carolina was up 16-3. We wrapped soon after that and I caught the tail end of the game back in my hotel room.

Look, I like Steve Spurrier. I know a lot of people can't stand him because he's cocky and outspoken and thinks he's the smartest guy in just about any room he walks into. And I know there are people who will say I like him because he was the last Duke football coach to field a team worth watching. (Okay Duke fans remind me that Fred Goldsmith had one good year in '94. Was it two years later he was 0-11? I lose track of Duke's winless football seasons).

That's not why I like Spurrier although I did always chuckle when he would refer to Mack Brown as, "Mr. Football," when Brown was at North Carolina. "I just don't think I know enough about the game to compete with Mr. Football," he would say. He was 3-0 against Mr. Football at Duke and blatantly ran the score up in 1989. Then he left for Florida and Carolina has beaten Duke every single year but one since then. In fact, when Florida won the national title in 1996 I dropped Spurrier a note congratulating him and said, "Now if you were a real man you'd go back to Duke and take on a REAL challenge." Spurrier wrote back and said, "Nah, I don't think I could deal with the pressure of competing with Mr. Football again every year.”

What makes Spurrier SO different from other college coaches is that he'll say anything about anyone and not worry about what people think. That's bound to make people angry. To say that Spurrier is disliked at the University of Tennessee is like saying that Joe Wilson wouldn't be welcome in the Democratic caucus room on Capitol Hill. One year Spurrier made this comment: "You know you can't spell Citrus Bowl (where the SEC runner-up always played) without the letters, 'UT.' On another occasion he mentioned that he had driven by The Citrus Bowl and had seen a sign that said, "winter home of the Tennessee Volunteers."

Come on folks, that's FUNNY especially from a man in a profession where, "our team stepped up and gave 110 percent," passes for a one-liner. (For those of you who want to say that Lane Kiffin has done the same thing at Tennessee there's one difference: Spurrier had actually WON when he made those comments.

Remember a few years ago when there was talk Spurrier might go back to Florida after his disastrous stay with the Washington Dan Snyder? Apparently Florida AD Jeremy Foley brought up something about sending a resume. To which Spurrier reportedly responded, "Walk out to your trophy case and take a look at it. THAT'S my resume."

There is also a side to Spurrier not often seen. After his kids were grown, he and his wife Gerri adopted two infants and, after Spurrier had fled from the Redskins--leaving $15 million on the table rather than deal with Snyder for another year--Spurrier put his career on hold so his youngest son could finish high school without being uprooted.

The year after Florida won the national title I called Spurrier to see if I could get an autographed football for a charity auction. I called on Friday around lunchtime. The secretary told me the team was about to leave--I think, ironically enough, for South Carolina. She asked if Coach Spurrier could return the call on Monday. I said of course and left a message.

Five minutes later the phone rang. It was Spurrier.

"Isn't your team leaving like right now for South Carolina?" I said.

"You know," Spurrier answered, "last I looked I was the coach of this here ball club and I really don't think they're going to leave without me."

The ball arrived three days later.

So, I plead guilty. I like the ole ball coach. I tend to like characters--flawed or not. I've watched his ups and downs at South Carolina, sometimes averting my eyes--most notably in the bowl games last year when Iowa completely dominated his team and, for the first time I thought Spurrier looked old on the sidelines.

He didn't look so old at game's end last night. Of course the schedule is still rife with tough games because to quote Maryland basketball coach Gary Williams, "This isn't ACC football, we play tough teams almost every night." This IS SEC football and Duke and Maryland and Virginia aren't anywhere on South Carolina's schedule.

But for now, the ole ball coach can spend a few days reveling in this upset. My guess is he'll have something interesting to say about it.

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I have to tell everyone I loved some of the ideas that were thrown out for a book yesterday by posters, especially since several of them are ideas I've thought about in the past. Most notable among them is the notion of a Joe Paterno biography.
I can honestly tell you, I've tried.

Last winter I went up to Penn State and had lunch with my pal Malcolm Moran, who used to work at The New York Times and USA Today and is now some kind of distinguished professor at Penn State. Malcolm arranged for me to meet with a marketing guy who has become very close to Paterno in recent years. The point of the meeting was simple: get me in the door to talk to Paterno. Unlike Dean Smith, who I have known well for 30 years, I don't know Paterno well at all. I met him years ago while covering college football for The Washington Post. Back then, his SID, the great John Morris, used to invited media members to meet informally with Paterno on Friday nights and I attended a few of those get-togethers. I had also written to Paterno several years ago asking if I could come up and talk to him about a "season," book. It was the year they were ranked No. 1 for much of the year before being upset by Minnesota. That, as it turned out, started the four year spiral.

Anyway, I got a very nice letter back from Paterno saying he admired my work, listened to me on NPR but simply couldn't deal with the distraction of having someone around that way for an entire season. I was hoping to get into the room with him to explain that I had become pretty good at hanging around without being a distraction and tell him how it would work. I never got the chance.

I didn't get the chance this time either. After I had explained why I wanted to do a Paterno biography--for reasons similar to why I wanted to do a Dean Smith biography; Paterno's extraordinary legacy beyond the football field being key--his friend Guido D'Elia shook his head and said, "I agree with you a book like that needs to be done. But that's legacy stuff. Joe's not ready for legacy stuff yet."

To which I replied, "Has anyone told him that he's 82?"

The answer was direct: "No. We wouldn't dare."

I know that was true because earlier I had contacted Ernie Accorsi, the ex-Giants GM who had worked for Paterno early in his career. Ernie was all for the project and contacted George Welsh, the retired Virginia coach (who I know well) about helping me out. Welsh was Paterno's top assistant before becoming the coach at Navy. Ernie finally called back and said, "I don't think we can help you."

“Why not?" I asked.

"Because we're both scared if we tell Joe he should talk to you he might yell at us."

He was serious. Boy is Paterno a fascinating guy.

The other idea I love is the one about following athletes in different sports for a year. I wanted to do that once upon a time at Harvard. Frank Sullivan, the basketball coach, was a good friend. Tim Murphy, the football coach, runs a great underrated program and, at the time Harvard had a swimmer who had made the finals of the Olympic Trials in, I think, the 200 breastroke. I thought it would be great to follow six to eight athletes to see how you combine being really good at a sport while going to Harvard. I met with some folks in the athletic department. They loved the idea. They said they would talk it over, take it to the administration and be back in touch.

Much like the radio exec I mentioned the other day they still haven't called.

You can't say I'm not trying.