It's college football's offseason. That's not my problem. It's not your problem. It's our problem. And collective problems call for collective solutions.
Thus we present Free Form Friday. Until further notice, I'll spend Fridays posting a vaguely organized compendium of non-sequiturs, pop culture observations and college sports miscellany which you may discuss in the comments, or ignore in favor of your own topics. Think of it as your weekend open comment thread.
It's not that I have anything against 90's pop/rock. I love me some Vertical Horizon as much as anybody. I do despise Creed with a sort of visceral passion which even I can't explain, but who doesn't? However, no one loves them some lite-alternative rock like Urban Meyer, who's been hanging out with Sister Hazel frontman Drew Copeland and waxing poetic about the joys of life in Gainesville.
Now, I can count on one hand the number of times I've visited Alachua County. I'm sure there are people who love the home of the University of Florida more than any place on Earth. We southerners, with our unusual sense of place, are prone to romanticizing locales that other people try to be out of before darkness descends and the sidewalks get rolled up.
But this latest piece from Pat Dooley is comic even given that background. What does the Urbster love so much about Gainesville? Every-darned-thing! The impromptu neighborhood bocce tournaments! Well-maintained Little League Parks! And the lobster! The sweet, sweet lobster! I know some of the "Mark Richt won't leave Athens because _______" pieces can veer toward the obsequious. And perhaps I'm just a cynical sportsblogger, who's gotten used to mercenary coaches who'd work in Hades if Satan gave them the right buyout and a university car. But this one is so fawningly over the top that at first I thought it a satire of the standard "our coach loves us and understands us and he'll never leave us!!!" schtick that appears in every college town newspaper every summer.
Newsflash: Urban Meyer isn't living in Gainesville because the coeds all have shapely arms, the traffic lights always fall his way and all the children are above average. No, Urban Meyer lays his head down in north central Florida because he's making an obscene amount of money to win an obscene number of football games using players handpicked from an obscenely fertile recruiting ground. If he could find a better situation in Guam, I have no doubt he'd listen to the offer. If the offer was good enough, he'd learn to love Great Deep Beer. Anyplace can be utopian when you've got a stack of cash and a couple of fat title rings sitting next to your cufflinks. Urban Meyer will not be leaving Florida any time soon (unless he's a 14-karat moron or an overacheiver who just has to see how he'd fare in the NFL) because he already has the best job in the country. As with most fields, you don't go out and find the best job in college football. You take a job and make it the best one by the sweat of your own brow. Urban Meyer has done that.
Speaking of SEC coaches and their happiness, Lou Holtz says he's happy working for ESPN right now and doesn't plan to run for Congress. Which is a shame because I was looking forward to some high level diplomacy on the part of Dr. Lou. Really, who's more likely to convince the Iranians that we're serious about this whole arms control business (either that or bat crap crazy enough to use the A-bomb again)? Other suitable candidates do exist for pigskin politics, however. For example, Pat Dye would be the perfect guy to negotiate those pesky whiskey tariffs with the Irish. And Ray Goff could be the ambassador to Andorra or San Marino. What could he possibly mess up there? Feel free to make your recommendations in the comments.
Of course, no one can be happy all the time. And that's OK:
Until later . . .