Friday column: Competition's pluses, minuses

I’m fond of Eugene McCarthy’s line about politicians needing to be like football coaches: “You have to be smart enough to understand the game, and dumb enough to think it’s important.”

But having spent a lot of my life competing in athletics, including doing a little coaching, I do understand its lure — or at least one of the lures.

By and large, I think, people are less happy when they’re focused on themselves, more happy when they’re not — when they are able to “lose themselves” in something else.

There were times when I was young and miserable, when nothing could make me forget my unhappiness like a good, competitive game of basketball — in a gym or on a street.

Being “outside of myself” for that time was sheer relief.

Sports offers an arena in which you not only can focus on externals, but also you can easily chart your progress. Want to know how you are doing? Look at the scoreboard. Look at your batting average. Look at your winning percentage. Life — real life — doesn’t offer those clear measuring sticks.

Of course, a life of constant competition comes with a price, a price Florida football coach Urban Meyer says he’s decided he no longer wants to pay, at least for now. One year after resigning following a health scare — only to quickly un-resign — Meyer appears sincere in his decision to step down.

In today’s college game, coaches at Meyer’s level are compensated at absurd levels, but just as absurd are the expectations others place on them. Meyer won two national titles at Florida; yet last year he “disappointed” Gators fans by only going 13-1. The reaction to this year’s 7-5 season? Don’t ask.

Coaching legend John Wooden told the story of a booster who came up to him after his UCLA team had beaten Kentucky to win the 1975 NCAA basketball title.

“It was a great victory, John.” Then the booster added, “After you let us down last year.”

“Last year,” 1974, Wooden’s Bruins had lost to North Carolina State in the NCAA finals, in double overtime — only the second time in 12 years Wooden’s team hadn’t cut down the nets.

That was Wooden’s last season; he knew when it was time to get out. It appears Meyer does, too.

Even so, the break for Meyer, just 46, could be brief.

“I can’t ever see that son of a gun getting out of the game and going into broadcasting,” Notre Dame assistant Tim Hinton said last year. “He’s too much of a competitor.”

Hopefully not.

Meyer already has discovered the health consequences of being super competitive. Competition also can be an addiction. It’s the need to compete, I think, that led to Pete Rose’s career meltdown and to the gambling problems of Michael Jordan and Charles Barkley.

Competition is a way to “lose yourself.” The trouble is, sometimes it really happens.

Contact Jim Gordon at gjames43@msn.com.

How’s that stress-reduction plan working out, Urban?

When last we noticed Florida football coach Urban Meyer, he was lying about how to got to a hospital and about what he was treated for, deciding to quit the game for health reasons, then deciding he didn’t need to quit, after all — just take it a little easier, reduce stress on the ol' ticker.

This week Meyer went on a rampage that couldn’t have made his doctors happy, lighting into Orlando Sentinel reporter Jeremy Fowler for having the temerity to write something one of Meyer’s players said — namely, that new quarterback John Brantley might be a better fit for the Gators receivers than the departed Tim Tebow. The idea is that Brantley is a traditional pocket passer and relies on timing whereas Tebow’s penchant to scramble made it difficult for wideouts to know whether they should continue their routes or peel back to block.

"You'll be out of practice — you understand that? — if you do that again," Meyer yelled at Fowler. “I told you five years ago: Don't mess with our players. Don't do it. You did it. You do it one more time and the Orlando Sentinel’s not welcome here ever again. Is that clear? It's yes or no.”

Meyer also told Fowler, “You're a bad guy, man. You're a bad guy,” Meyer said. If that was my son, we'd be going at it right now.”

From where I’m sitting, Urban, you’re the bad guy. You’re a liar and a control freak and a bully.

But, then, you are a D-1 football coach ...

Friday column: It would all make sense in an alternative universe

Man is said to be a rational animal, though one wonders in a world where New York City spends taxpayer dollars to teach people how to shoot heroin and a Saudi program tries to rehabilitate terrorists with art therapy.

Thank God for the world of sports, that bastion of sanity, where:

* The Washington Wizards’ Gilbert Arenas can store four handguns in his locker at the Verizon Center and justify this violation of NBA rules by stating he wanted the weapons out of his house because of the birth of his third child.

You were worried about the safety of your third child, Gilbert? What were your first two, chopped liver?

* Florida coach Urban Meyer can flat-out lie about his recent hospitalization for chest pains and claim he did so to protect his children and his football team.

What’s more dishonorable than using your kids as an excuse? I’m guessing, Urban, your lie was actually designed to keep your next batch of recruits from straying to other programs.

* Gilbert Arenas (yes, same fellow) can get into an argument over a gambling debt with Javaris Crittenton, bring out guns from his locker, tell his teammate to choose one, and explain it away by saying he has a “goofball” sense of humor.

Right — nothing funnier in the African American community than gun violence, Gilbert.

* After four of his players are arrested on gun, drug and alcohol charges, Tennessee men’s head basketball coach Bruce Pearl can tell women’s coach Pat Summitt he’s sorry “if” his team has tarnished the good image she’s worked hard to build.

Any apology with the word IF in it is worthless, Bruce.

* Urban Meyer (yup, same one) can resign one day, citing health concerns and the importance of being there for his family, then turn around and unresign, claiming his change was a family decision.

Using your family as a crutch for what YOU want to do is really getting old, Urban.

* University of Tennessee athletic director Mike Hamilton can sound as though the school is doing something about its problem athletes, saying he wants to “make sure we’re doing everything possible in the education process to make sure our student athletes understand exactly what our expectations are …”

You mean you have to EXPLAIN to your … um … student-athletes that your expectations don’t include them getting arrested for drugs, alcohol and firearms?

We’ll turn the floor over to one Alvin Jackson, a pitcher who had the misfortune to toil for the worst team in baseball history, the 1962 Mets. One day after five straight Mets errors, his manager — in order to spare his sanity — decided to relieve him, but neglected to inform him of that fact. As Jackson walked back to the mound to start the next inning, he heard the PA system blare, “Now pitching for the Mets … Ray Davialt!”

Jackson threw up his hands and yelled, “Everybody here crazy!”

Indeed.

Contact Jim Gordon at gjames43@msn.com.

Smooth — but believable?

So.

Urban Meyer checked himself into a hospital — except he didn’t.

It turns out his wife called 911 because he had had chest pains and was non-responsive.

Meyer has lied from the get-go on this, first stating not only that he had checked himself into the hospital but saying that it was for dehydration. He only later admitted feeling chest pain.

What else is the Florida football coach not being truthful about? Is he really coming back to coach the Gators after his “leave of absence,” or was his apparent 180 all about keeping Florida’s recruits in place? If so, is there a financial reward for doing so?

Sorry to sound so distrustful, Urban, but you’ve not given the press really much reason to believe you.

Coaches can be paranoid and pathetic

Urban Meyer is cracking down — no more criticism of him by former Gators!

The University of Florida football coach apparently took exception to a comment former Gator QB Shane Matthews made during the team’s only loss of last season — a 31-30 setback against Mississippi.

On his radio show, Matthews was critical of the Gators’ failure to aggressively attack the Rebels’ man-to-man coverage. Apparently, that criticism got under Meyer’s skin and has been festering for a while — despite the Gators’ BCS title.

"If you want to be critical of a player on our team or a coach on our team you can buy a ticket for seat 37F, you're not welcome back in the football office," Meyer said at a recent Gator Club appearance.

Matthews has been defended by other ex-players in the media, the point being made that commentators need to be honest to do their jobs.

"Shane, because he bled and sweat for the Gators, has a right to say whatever he wants about the program," former Miami defensive lineman Dan Sileo told the Orlando Sentinel.

"Urban Meyer's not a Gator. He's a caretaker of the Gator program," Sileo said. "Most times these coaches think they're the programs, but really, the program is the players. That's the problem I have with coaches whose egos get too big for their britches. If Urban doesn't like it, that's too bad."

And we should believe you ... why?

So.

Urban Meyer says coaches are absolutely doing the right thing when they campaign for their teams like Capitol Hill lobbyists hunting a fat piece of pork.

"That's absolutely what they should do," Meyer said of Southern California’s Pete Carroll and Texas’ Mack Brown insisting their respective teams are the best in the land. "I've got news: I'm representing the University of Florida, and I'm an employee of the University of Florida and I represent my players, most of all I'm going to fight like a dog to take care of them."

Great, Urban, and I’ve got news. If we know you’re always shilling for your team — regardless of whether you really think they’re the best — why should be take into considering anything you say?

Walking the walk

Recommended reading: Antonya English’s piece in the St. Petersburg Times on Florida quarterback Tim Tebow, whose Gators are playing Thursday night in the BCS title game.

Tebow, the son of missionaries, talks the spiritual talk, but also walks the walk, making prison visits, helping his parents in the Philippines, doing other volunteer work.

The message written on eye black has become a big thing for football players, and Tebow is no different. But, then again, maybe he is, as his message is a biblical reference.

In an increasingly secular and diverse society, that might offend some. But I contrast it with the message I saw on a player’s eye black just the other day in one of the many meaningless bowl games that plague our TV screens in December and January. The message written under the player’s eyes — the lamps of the soul — was, “Fear me.”

Like Tebow's profession of faith or dislike it, it apparently is not done for show.

"A lot of people take their heart out, rip it out of their chest and lay it on the table,” Florida coach Urban Meyer says. “I'm not willing to do that, and certainly not my family. But Bob (his father) is that way, and Pam (his mother) and their whole family. They have such a strong faith. In this world of hypocrisy, there's none (with them)."

http://www.tampabay.com/sports/college/article956080.ece

Friday column: Coaches, pride and payback

In America, successful football coaches are praised, well-compensated and in some places, darn-near worshipped.

For what? For winning games — and thereby bringing apparently badly needed self-esteem to the community (We’re No. 1 … We’re No. 1!)

Yet San Francisco 49ers coach Mike Singletary managed to get lionized without winning so much as a single contest. How? By having the pride to be embarrassed by his team’s dismal first performance, by sending a malcontent to the dressing room, and by going in a mini-tirade in his first post-game press conference.

“Cannot play with them, cannot win with them, cannot coach them,” Singletary fumed about players like Vernon Davis, whom he sent to the locker room after the tight end committed a mindless personal foul, them mouthed back to Singletary when he was chastised for it. “Can’t do it,” Singletary went on. “I want winners. I want people that want to win.”

The praise rolled in as Singletary became, in one columnist’s words, “the king of coaching law and order.”

Which was all fine and good — until it was leaked that in order to make his point about being embarrassed, Singletary at half-time had dropped his drawers for three minutes during his locker room oratory (he was wearing boxers, but still …).

Now some are wondering if Singletary is too tightly wound for the job. Because of his emphasis on effort and discipline, I hope the answer is no. But the jury’s out on old crazy eyes.

* * *

The jury’s long been in on Florida coach Urban Meyer — as far as wins and losses go. He wins.

But coaches, whether they want to be or not, serve as role models. On Saturday, Meyer modeled the joy of the put-down and the payback.

A year ago, Georgia coach Mark Richt ordered his team to go nuts on their first score, and it did — every Bulldog rushing to the end zone, jumping up and down and taunting Meyer’s team. It was a bush-league tactic, but it ignited a Georgia victory in Gainesville.

The Bulldogs’ karma caught up with them this year in Athens, Ga., when the Gators beat them 49-10. The payback and putdown came when Meyer called two late timeouts which served no purpose other than to extend the humiliation.

Then, after the game, Meyer insulted everyone’s intelligence by saying he stopped the clock in order to get a couple of more carries for his third-string tailback.

Using last year’s game to motivate his team is one thing — accepted and smart coaching tactic. But then rubbing it in — and lying about it — is quite another. I’m not saying it isn’t common; I’m saying it’s common in more than one meaning of the word.

It’s also a bad example for every player on his team and every young Florida fan who watched the game.

Oh. And from the tactical side of things, it gives Richt that much more motivational fodder for the Bulldogs to get their revenge next year.

Contact Jim Gordon at gjames43@msn.com.