Saint Nick Saban and His Faithful

Daniel Spurgeon — Thu, 18 Sep 2008 07:45:35 -0400

"Is Saban the Savior?" asked the Crimson and White, an all-Alabama-all-the-time tabloid. Another local paper dubbed him "Saint Nick."

Religious connotations bestowed upon a football coach?! What kind of sick fans would do such a thing? The Crimson Tide fans really are delusional, aren't they?

But here's the thing—the actual quote was: "Is Saban the Savior?" asked the Tiger Rag, an all-LSU-all-the-time tabloid. Another local paper dubbed him "Saint Nick." It was written by Andrew Bagnato in the Aug. 24, 2000 edition of the Chicago Tribune as Nick Saban was set to begin his first season at LSU.

The name of the article—Bolt to the Bayou: LSU's Saban saddled with big expectations.

Sound familiar?

As the new millennium began in the Bayou, there was much hand wringing by the national media over the selection of Nick Saban as LSU's coach. The list of issues with his hiring looked like this:

* Nick Saban left his program at Michigan State in a lurch.

* He was paid too much money to go to LSU.

* The LSU fan base is far too demanding and has unrealistic expectations.

* And for heaven's sakes, Saban doesn't wear socks with his loafers.

One year later, at the end of 2001, LSU defeated Tennessee in the SEC championship game. Suddenly, the list of concerns regarding Saban seemed pretty trivial. National media: "Concerns, what concerns?"

Having secured a championship, LSU fans were no longer considered delusional by the national media. They were now known as the LSU faithful.

But the list of concerns against Nick Saban wasn't totally forgotten. Upon his hiring by Alabama in December 2006, the national media performed some slight editing and re-presented the list of concerns:

* Nick Saban left his program with the Miami Dolphins in the lurch.

* He was paid too much money to go to Alabama.

* The Alabama fan base is too demanding and has unrealistic expectations.

* And for heaven's sakes, Saban doesn't wear socks with his loafers.

One year later, September 2008, as Alabama begins the process of seeking to win an SEC championship of their own this Saturday, Alabama fans are happily delusional in this thought: one fine day in the future, they will no longer be labeled as delusional—but rather as the faithful.

And then, with a championship in hand, perhaps only the most mentally ill of the Crimson Tide fans will dare to joke that the reason that Saint Nick doesn't wear socks is because he doesn't want to get them wet when he walks on the water.

But that would be beyond delusional. That would be delirium: the kind of delirium or overwhelming joy that accompanies championships.

No Joke: Vanderbilt's Bobby Johnson Can Coach

Daniel Spurgeon — Fri, 05 Sep 2008 02:34:00 -0400

As the South Carolina-Vanderbilt game was set to begin on ESPN, a video of Vanderbilt's head coach, Bobby Johnson, appeared on the screen. Rece Davis, of ESPN, jokingly said, "Steve Martin." Everyone laughed. Not because Bobby Johnson is a joke—but because Bobby Johnson does look a lot like Steve Martin. (And just between you and me, wink wink, it is because some people still think of Vanderbilt as a joke.)

Once the game started and ESPN was setting the stage for the game, Chris Fowler mentioned that Vanderbilt defeated No. 6 South Carolina last year to begin the regular season. Impossible! Surely they were joking.

On an early play, a Vanderbilt tailback hit an opening at the line at full speed. Unfortunately, he brushed an offensive lineman as he darted through the hole. After a brief sojourn into the air, he hit the ground without having been touched by the South Carolina defense. On another play he was completely engulfed by South Carolina.

The ESPN crew said the tailback's height was 5'7" and then jokingly said, "That might be generous." But it was no joke—a man with a big heart was heading full speed into the line on every play.

A line from the movie The Godfather: Part II came to my mind at that point. As Michael Corleone was chatting with Hyman Roth, he mentioned that he had just seen a Cuban rebel pull a pin on a grenade and blow himself up just to kill a few of the government's army officers. Hyman Roth asked him, "What does that tell you?" Michael Corleone answered, "It means they could win."

South Carolina loomed large in comparison. Their National Championship coach was intense. As the first quarter played out, South Carolina appeared to be the bigger, better team.

Surely it was only a matter of time before they beat Vanderbilt down to Vanderbilt size and went home with the "W" that their fans had already confidently marked on their schedules weeks ago.

Of course, marking a schedule with a "W" before a win is a joke—especially against a team that beat your team the year before at your place. And what's that old adage, "Speed is the great equalizer." Sure, South Carolina was bigger, and they had a swagger about them—but they were not faster.

On defense, the Commodores were torpedoes blowing up the Great Visor's plays before they could develop. It's not a joke. Speed kills—and these Commodores were, "Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead."

I had commented to someone yesterday that I thought Bobby Johnson was one of the most underappreciated coaches in all of college football. Vanderbilt is never listed among the top teams of the SEC as having the best recruiting classes, and yet they manage to beat a ranked South Carolina two years in a row. They have also taken down Arkansas, Tennessee, and Georgia in the past few years.

However, Bobby Johnson teams are not undermanned against the more talented teams of the SEC. A Bobby Johnson team has plenty of men playing for him—oftentimes more so even than his opponents.

Perhaps the next time Rece catches a glimpse of Steve Martin, he'll quip, "Bobby Johnson."

Now stop me if you've heard this one before: "It's not the size of the dog in the fight, but the size of the fight in the dog..."

Bleacher Report - Articles by Daniel Spurgeon

Saint Nick Saban and His Faithful

No Joke: Vanderbilt's Bobby Johnson Can Coach