Good Sports

I started writing a blog entry a few days ago about college athletes and the scholarships they receive. I didn’t get very far. A few paragraphs in and I hit a mental block. (I know what you are thinking, “But Bruce, you don’t know anything about college sports or college athletes, and probably even less about college athletic scholarships!” That is pretty much true, but that’s the great thing about my blog, I don’t have to know what I’m talking about, I just have to pretend to know what I’m talking about. Sorry to burst your bubble).

Like a lot of my blog ideas I started with the greatest of intentions and a focused idea, only to find myself wandering off on a strange tangent. A few paragraphs of inspiration and frenzied typing followed by a lot of blank staring. Those “lost” blogs end up sitting unfinished in a folder on my computer I call “brain-dead.” Unlike many of those incomplete documents, I’ll probably return to my scholarship blog at some point because I didn’t necessarily lose my inspiration for the idea, but instead got sidetracked by a shocking turn of events this week in Tennessee sports.

Now, those of you who know me (or at least think you know me) are laughing right now at the thought that I could possibly get worked up over even one sports story, let alone two. I am not a rabid fan who has plastered my car with blue, red or orange bumper stickers. I don’t paint my face and attend games, screaming until my voice is gone, and if I watch Sports Center twice a year, it’s a miracle.

My interest in sports is more in the area of communal pride. When I was growing up in Kentucky, it was all about basketball. Living halfway between the University of Louisville and the University of Kentucky, I was surrounded by sports fans that were obsessive in their undying love for their chosen team. Most in my town were adamant UK fans. They had the hats, the shirts, the jackets, the bumper stickers, the flags that hung outside their homes, and most importantly, the attitude. The mantra was, “I am for U of K and whoever is playing against U of L!”

I never particularly understood that way of thinking. My feeling was and still is that we had two great ball teams in Kentucky, and if either did well, it made us all look good. I’ve tried to explain that idea to rabid fans and I just get blank stares, but that’s okay. I appreciate the loyalty they have to their chosen team, and as long as the rivalry doesn’t get too ugly or personal, I figure it’s not that big a deal.

Many of these UK fans were family members, so when I chose to attend the University of Louisville based on my personal educational needs and not basketball…I was a bit of an outcast. I still remember the awkward silences and cold stares I received at get-togethers. Blue blood runs deep. They took the game and their team much more seriously than I did.

After marrying Connie and moving to Tennessee, I was introduced to a new sports culture. Basketball was an afterthought. Football was the game, and EVERYONE is a UT fan.

With no choice but to either join in or be a social pariah, I started watching the games and learning a bit about college football. Since there are far fewer college football games than there are basketball games, those ten or eleven Saturdays in the fall became events. Plans were made amongst family and friends to gather at whomever’s house had the biggest television. The chosen menu was chili, and I learned that Tennessee chili did not have spaghetti noodles in it like Kentucky chili, but instead required Frito’s, shredded cheddar cheese and sour cream. I realized that I had a lot to learn about Tennessee and their game of football.

My Cardinal red blood began to take on a blazing tinge of orange and I watched the Tennessee Volunteers through the end of the Johnny Majors coaching era and throughout the Phil Fulmer reign. I rooted for Quarterback Peyton Manning and cheered his replacement Tee Martin and the 1998 team as they won the National Championship. By 2008 I was invested enough to agree that after 16 seasons at UT, Fulmer needed to step aside and let someone else lead. It was time.

Lane Kiffin was announced as the new head coach of the University of Tennessee Volunteers on December 1, 2008. Young and enthusiastic, he seemed like the perfect person to jumpstart the stalling team. In interviews he was brash, cocky and seemingly excited to be here. He brought with him an experienced group of coaches, including his NFL defensive legend father, Monte.

Despite a tough start to the 2009 season and a painful loss in the Chick-Fil-A Bowl game on New Year’s Eve, the team played well overall and he somehow performed a miracle and turned our quarterback Jonathan Crompton from a hit and (primarily) miss wannabe into a real offensive threat. It was an exciting, although sometimes frustrating, season to watch, but one that gave us great promise for the future.

Then…Lane Kiffin abandoned us.

Tuesday night, January 12, 2010 at approximately 8:40pm, as we are innocently sitting in our homes watching television, local channels cut into their regularly scheduled programming with the breaking news that Kiffin was apparently taking an offer to be head coach at the University of Southern California. First reactions seemed to be, “this has to be a mistake.” Then, as it became more obvious that it was not a mistake, shock, dismay and anger set in.

Some folks over-reacted. Many students on campus that night for the start of the spring semester the next day took to the streets and surrounded the athletic building where the announcement was being made. A mattress was burned and a big rock was spray painted with a multitude of profane threats toward Kiffin. Overall, the behavior was an embarrassment to the community, but not all that different than the reaction would have been at any other good sized college town. No arrests were made, no major property damaged (“no animals were harmed in the making of this protest”). College students don’t need much of an excuse to act crazy.

Kiffin’s justification for leaving was simple. Being head coach at USC was his dream job. He had been an assistant coach there for six years and this was the opportunity to go back and be the big man on campus. He explained that the Los Angeles area was home to him and his family. His children were born there. It was the only job that would make him leave Tennessee.

Pardon me while I wipe away a few tears. I love a happy ending.

So, those are the facts, give or take a few details. Kiffin came to Knoxville, signed a contract for multiple years for a TON of money (reported as two million annually, plus bonuses), assured the fans that this was the place he wanted to be and was appreciative of the opportunity. (Oh, did I forget to mention that just two months before he was hired at UT he had been fired as head coach of the NFL’s Oakland Raiders after a disastrously short run of only 5 wins and 15 losses? He was not the “Belle of the Ball” in any sense of the word. He was lucky to get the offer at the University of Tennessee, which he has since said is one of the top ten college football programs in the nation).

Now, I’ll be honest, after having some time to think about it, I can understand his decision. It was his dream job. We all have a dream job. (In my case it would be “not to have to work anymore and have plenty of money”). I’m sure that when he took the head coaching job at University of Tennessee he did not know that this new job would be coming available. Dreams are like that. We dream about them, but we don’t really expect them to come true.

Most of the frustration seems to be with the timing of his decision. One year is very short period in college football. It seemed like he had barely started. The image of his intoductory press conference was still fresh in our minds. I doubt that all the boxes moved into his new West Knox mansion had even been unpacked.

Worse than that, the stars aligned for him at an inopportune period for the Tennessee football program. New recruits were expected to start school the next day, and even more potential recruits are scheduled to visit UT over the next week or two. As news spread about the departure of Kiffin and the other coaches who will go to USC with him, many talented and sought after players are quickly reconsidering their decision to be a Volunteer. Fans who dreamed of a new start are now afraid that our team has been severely damaged.

In the big scheme of things, I don’t want to imply that this is a vitally important issue, particularly since on the same day Kiffin resigned from his little head coach job at UT the tragic earthquake in Haiti killed thousands and has left many thousands more injured and homeless. It’s just football, after all. It’s a game. Like almost everything else we usually worry about, it pales in comparison to the serious problems many people deal with day after day.

Still, I can’t shake the notion that there’s a bigger ethical dilemma lingering in this situation. How much do we owe to those to whom we’ve made a commitment? Can we simply walk away for our own selfish reasons? It’s a question that has plagued mankind throughout history: “How can I look out for Number One without causing a world of Number Two for others?”

Kiffin is not the first and certainly won’t be the last person to drop out of a commitment for personal reasons. It happens daily in marriages, jobs, and friendships; always with a “good reason” and usually followed by a half-hearted apology. It doesn’t take much for us to believe it will all work out for everyone as long as it appears to be working out for ourselves.

In an odd convergence on this theme, this week seems full of stories of commitment and honor (or lack of those things). NBC, Jay Leno and Conan O’Brien are battling over contracts and what was implied or promised (I’m team Conan, by the way). Sarah Palin began her tenure at Fox News after quitting her elected position as Governor of Alaska last July (a move that upset many Alaskans, especially those who supported her). I guess when she said "I love my job, and I love Alaska. It hurts to make this choice, but I am doing what's best for Alaska," she meant that by earning millions on a book deal and countless more being on television, it would somehow help the working class of her state. It will be interesting to see how that works out.

At some point we are all faced with decisions that put our own self interests in conflict with others feelings or needs. How we deal with those decisions say a lot about our character.

As for Lane Kiffin, he’s made his bed and he’s gotta lie in it. He may have forgotten, as most of us do when we don’t consider the impact of our decisions on others, that in order to live the dream, we have to be able to sleep at night.