Nothing But Iron: Seasons Beatings by Steven R. Lagman, M.D., C.A.S.W. January 8, 2008 The college football season is officially over. At least I think it is, though I have this nagging feeling that there might still be another bowl game to be played, perhaps in an obscure location like Fairbanks or Guadalajara. I am pretty sure that Drake and Florida International have not yet played. Maybe the two could square off in the Docusate Stool Softener Afterthought Bowl. Whether or not we have witnessed the true finale of the playing of college football, I hereby end my coverage of it with a few thoughts on the Winter Non-Conference Football Season (WNCFS), sometimes known as the BCS and lesser-coveted bowl games. Sugar: Georgia vs. Hawaii. You may now think that Colt Brennan has as much a shot at winning a starting job in the NFL as he does winning the Kentucky Derby, but remember, pro quarterbacks have a few perks that Brennan did not have in his final college game: pro linemen, pro running backs and pro receivers. It is not his fault that he played most of his games against teams that would be lucky to win a game in the mighty SEC. From what I have heard, he will get his shot at Sundays, but now he will be a somebody’s later-round Blue Light Special. For the record, I did not watch the Sugar Bowl directly, but I listened to Kelly’s commentary while she watched parts of it. About every 20 minutes I would ask if I should come watch yet. "Hawaii is in trouble," she said, enabling me to continue my business of doing useful things. Hawaii is not really in trouble, I thought. The Warriors would lose but afterward they and their fans would get on planes and return to paradise, including, but not limited to palm trees, humpback whales, waterfalls, brightly colored fish gracefully navigating coral reefs, dramatic lava flows and hula skirts. They will fall asleep to the soothing rhythm of the Pacific Ocean and awaken to ukeleles and coconut milk. In March Hawaii will host the Bulldogs in the finals of the NCAA Surfing Championships, and the embarrassment of the Sugar Bowl will wash away like foot prints on a white-sand beach. Hawaii is not in trouble. Outhouse Bowl: Wisconsin vs. Tennessee. I had to remind myself that the reason I watch sports is to be entertained. Only then did I find the value I sought in the Australian Steak Bowl. Yes, I wanted Wisconsin to win, but I don’t always get my way. It is wrong that I don’t always get my way, but that is reality. I was entertained because the Volunteers made good on their moniker by generously offering Wisconsin many opportunities to win the highly-sought-after Crystal Bloomin’ Onion Trophy. Each move toward Wisconsin victory elicited cheers from our small group of high-definition observers that were far more audible than the groans of impending defeat. It is of some consolation that the point at which defeat was impending became obvious only very late in the game. At least it was enough of a battle to convince unbiased viewers (all six of them) that our team belonged there. With all the focus on losing, it will be easy to forget what was likeable about this game, so I remind you. Let’s start with Tyler "Tough Man" Donovan. How does this kid keep getting up? Three times I thought the Vols had knocked him out of the game. Three times he proved me wrong. I predict that Tyler’s toughness will get him a Sunday job. Like Jim Sorgi and Brooks Bollinger before him, Donovan will be a back up, but in the brutal NFL, back-ups play. While on the subject of brutality, I have this commentary on helmet-to-helmet contact: I would either legalize it or make it subject to video review. Clearly officials, who happen to be mere human beings in their day jobs, lack the ability to visually process such rapid, violent collisions. If there is a desire to enforce the rule, video replay is the only way it can be enforced fairly. And while on the subject of replay, it is time for college to follow the NFL’s lead and get reviews done more efficiently: If a call cannot be reversed within thirty seconds of seeing all available replay angles, it should stand. Footnote (actually more like a bellynote): I thought Wisconsin did a terrible job of protecting Donovan after he suffered the illegal head-on collision. The healthy PJ Hill proved to be very good. It makes me realize how much he must have been hurting during the regular season that wasn’t so regular. Radio Guy had this to say: "The question Hill will have to answer is (about) his toughness." No you don’t, Radio Guy. You, who perhaps runs the small risk of bumping your knee on a desk drawer or tripping on a microphone cord, do not get to question the toughness of any Division I running back. Injury-prone or not, any kid who plays football at this level is tough. Hipnote: The Badgers did a terrible job of getting Travis Beckum involved in the offense. Throw him a 3 yard pass. Snap the ball to him. Let him try an extra point. Anything to get your most dominant player revved up. Maybe Tennessee did a remarkable job shutting him down, but can the Vols really be that good? If so, why were they not playing in a bowl game of greater significance? I will modify what I said about the Badgers in the mid season. At that point I said the Badgers were a year off. Now they are half a year off. Off from what, I am not sure, but I do look forward to finding out. Bowl Game Without A Real Name: LSU vs. OSU. First, some math fun. Did you know you can simplify LSU vs. OSU by dividing both sides by SU, yielding L vs. O? Can you tell I have been helping Connor with algebra? Second, I wish to publically berate myself for watching any of this worthless piece of fecal matter. At first I could not help myself, because I was captivated by the theme: OSU as disrespected, plodding, shoulder-chipped underdog. I was curious to see if the Buckeyes, after a couple months of schedule-induced stagnation, would play like it was the first quarter of their annual spring scrimmage. It wasn’t until the OSU slightly marching, but mostly-stationary band was featured during the halftime show that I was jolted to my senses and stopped watching in exchange for the chance to answer a few work e-mails. Actually I chose between e-mailing and watching a TiVo’d episode of Desperate Housewives. Best Damn Band in the Land? You cannot be serious. A class of fourth graders with plastic recorders and tambourines could have run these dopes off the field. I admit to watching the whole band presentation. I wanted to see how the Buckeyes synchronized walkers would top the irony of last year’s sinking Titanic re-enactment. I was relieved that they did not simulate a plane crashing into a high rise building. Though appropriate for the context of their languishing football team, it would have been in poor taste. I don’t fault the Buckeyes for losing. I don’t consider them an embarrassment to football or to the Big Ten conference. LSU was better. LSU played at home. LSU was not rusty. Losing under those conditions is forgivable, but I was bothered by how quickly OSU seemed to give up on the notion of winning. Late in the second quarter you could read it on the faces of each player shown: "Here we go again." I saw fear. I saw frustration. I saw getting up slowly. I saw walking back to the huddle. I did not see cohesiveness. I did not see players encouraging each other. I did not see goddamit fellas we can do this! Perhaps the leadership was there, but it was well hidden from the cameras. Champions don’t lose their poise or swagger or self-control when the momentum swings away from them. The Buckeyes are not criminals for losing to LSU. They just aren’t champions. All that remains now is, in the great tradition of the two giants of the Big Ten, is to fire Jim Tressel. The best news of all for Buckeyes is that LSU is not the national champion anyway. No more so than USC or Georgia or Missouri and Tennessee or West Virginia or even me. LSU is the winner of the bowl without a real name. LSU is the winner of the last scheduled WNCFS game. Yes, you say, but I would feel differently if it were the Badgers. No, I say, I would not. We may choose to kid ourselves, but true logic is not logic of convenience or opportunity. It’s just plain logic. Never before has the BCS had more logic-deprived failures: the computer-shaded polls of the regular season, the Rose Bowl, the Sugar Bowl, the Fiesta Bowl and the so-called championship. Were it not for the simply reality that the self-serving imbeciles who control college football are immune to scrutiny and embarrassment, the folly of the 2007-2008 season would be a thing of beauty. _____________ Nothing But Iron is an amateur sports column written for a select audience by sometimes-bitter, but generally amiable Steve Lagman. "Outhouse Bowl," which is not the intellectual property of the author, is used with the permission of reader Glom Glorkmock (not his real name) who asked to remain anonymous due to his prominent affiliation with the athletic department. This issue is dedicated to Matt, who must bear the emotional burden of being the same age as his usually-older-brother author for 18 days this month. ©2008 DrTM Enterprises. All rights reserved.