Contrary to several of my colleagues’ giddy provocations, I am not wearing a cone of shame for the sudden defrocking of the Southeastern Conference’s preeminent football program.
To be honest, though I own a degree from one of the conference’s fine institutions of higher learning, I have never liked the “S-E-C-S-E-C!” chant.
It’s taunting, at best. Plus, it’s not even fully accurate scoreboarding.
The “it just means more” league does win a lot of championships and athletic contests. But let’s go to the annual Sugar Bowl highlights, shall we? The conference finished 6-6 in the recent bowl season, its members losing to the likes of Virginia, Iowa and Baylor.
I’ve seen its TV network. When Paul Finebaum is your Mama Kardashian, you obviously don’t care one biscuit about national ratings.
So when I hear the “S-E-C-S-E-C!” thing, you may as well be telling me you’ve opened another Walmart.
When Nick Saban and Alabama were boat-raced 44-16 in the national championship game like a mighty Philistine felled by a rock, the only chanting I did was a few Eat-THAT-Saban!’s while I danced around the living room.
The king is dead, long live the king. You go, Clemson.
It’s been pointed out by many that the Crimson Tide, players and head coach Nick Saban alike, were less than gracious after being taken to the woodshed by the Tigers.
As Saban said that night:
“We gave up big plays. That and the combination of us not finishing drives. I mean, when you look at the stats of the game — and they basically had the ball for the last 10 minutes of the game — if you look at the stats of the game, their yards and all that are fairly equal.
“But the score, because of turnovers, not finishing drives in the red zone, not getting off the field on third down, giving up explosive plays, the score doesn’t indicate anything like that.”
Oh. Well, then.
So it looked like your basic Alabama victory, viewed from the other end of the boot heel?
But this was no fluke. This was a statement. And that’s the chant that should be going around not just the SEC, but also the rest of the football Power Five.
Especially maybe the Big 12. Except for Oklahoma.
“Alabama fatigue,” they called it before the championship game, and they were right. Forty-eight of the 50 states (I’m guessing Hawaii was pulling for the Tide) were tired of Saban and his team bullying the rest of college football.
Thus, Clemson’s 44-16 butt-kicking of the schoolyard bully was like a Hollywood script. The Karate Kid in helmets.
The Crimson Tide’s losing margin, one hopes, is going to leave a scar.
Twice in Saban’s 12 seasons in Tuscaloosa (2011 and 2017), he has been able to successfully filibuster the selection process into including a second-place Alabama team into the national championship field.
Next time, perchance, the committee won’t deem a non-trophy Bama team so worthy.
An exquisitely coached Clemson squad rammer-jammered the Tide by 28 points. Both Texas A&M and Syracuse played Clemson a lot closer. And no way Texas would have lost to the Tigers by 28.
I can’t speak for Oklahoma, which fell behind 28-0 to the Tide in the Orange Bowl semis and eventually lost by 11.
You want fatigue? Big 12 fans have Oklahoma fatigue.
We’re ready for a fresh new face to challenge Clemson, et al.
Clearly, the Sooners haven’t done the “one true champion” Big 12 any favors in recent winner-take-all games. This latest OU defeat on the national stage, one highlighted by a spectacularly ineffective Sooners defense, should give hope to the Texases, the Big Tens and even the Pac-12 champs that at least three of the four annual playoff spots should fairly be up for grabs.
No more automatic hall passes, in other words, for Oklahoma, Alabama and, while we’re at it, that grotto apparition called Notre Dame.
It’s going to be interesting to see what the competitive effects are in the SEC from the resounding Alabama loss. A team that many saw as invincible isn’t supposed to be embarrassed by 44-16.
Invincible no more? Well, for now, yeah, maybe.
They certainly took notice in Baton Rouge, Gainesville and Auburn. And celebrated, too, I’ll bet.
A giant fell.
To me, that leaves an opening, Big 12. Find somebody, somebody not named Oklahoma.