Gentleman's Game

Had a great story for the blog today, but it lost steam when I learned of the passing of Byron Nelson late Tuesday afternoon.

Not that I was personally affected by his death. Obviously, I didn't know the man. His best years in the game were several decades before I ever set foot on a driving range. Based on what I have read and heard, however, there were two things that always jumped to mind when I heard Lord Byron's name:

First, "11 in a row," as in his 11 straight PGA Tour wins en route to 18 total victories in 1945. An entire generation of Americans grew up believing that 60 home runs would never be topped. Then, 61. Then, 755. Two of them are down; 755, steroids or no steroids, will likely fall as well. There might be a kid in Belgium right now - or Spain, or Italy, or Austin, Texas - who will grow up to win seven Tours de France. There might be a player in the NFL today who will survive long enough to break Emmitt Smith's rushing record of 18,355 yards.

11 in a row, however, will never be done again. Ever. By anybody. Including Tiger. Woods himself has said that DiMaggio's 56-game hitting streak has a better chance of falling. So there.

As unthinkable as that record may be, it pales in comparison to Nelson's accomplishments between 1942 and 1946, the magical stretch that bracketed his dominant 1945 season. Over those four years, Byron Nelson finished in the top ten in 65 consecutive professional golf tournaments.

Read that again.

I did not write "made the cut." I wrote "top ten." Sixty-five straight tournaments. I consider it one of the most staggering individual marks in American sports history, and terribly underreported. And again, nobody will ever match it.

Nelson won 52 professional events and five majors, but the most common storyline after his death involved the second word that always jumped to my mind: "gentleman."

That word has morphed into a sports cliche', but you cannot go one paragraph in any story about Byron Nelson without encountering it. For that matter, it's impossible to locate anyone who met the man and failed to find him utterly wonderful and decent - and that includes his opponents, who got their lunch handed to them by Nelson on a regular basis from roughly 1935 to 1951.

Go read the wire stories on Nelson's passing. Nicklaus, Palmer, Watson, Woods, Augusta National chairman Billy Payne, Ben Crenshaw - they all, independently of one another, use the word "gentleman" to describe Nelson. Woods, in particular, adored him. There's a reason why Tiger, who doesn't roll out of bed unless it's a major, a WGC event, or one of his sponsors' tournaments, missed the Byron Nelson Classic only twice in his first ten full seasons as a pro.

Nobody in the world has a bad thing to say about Byron Nelson. Not the guys he beat, not the guys he taught, not the guys who followed him on Tour. That, to me, is a life fulfilled. Fortunately, it's a record that anyone can set, if they choose.

Oh, and my story? I happened to play golf on Tuesday, before I learned of Nelson's passing. As it happened, it was on the same golf course where I carded that nearly-perfect 73 a few months back. Only this time, it was a 72. As in even par. First time in my life. Like I said, I had it all written out, hole by hole, but I think I'll pass.

I'd love to play golf like Byron Nelson, but I'd be much happier to know I was remembered like Byron Nelson. A life fulfilled, indeed.

Geography Lesson

My wife innocently asked me the other day, "why aren't there any good college football teams in the Northeast?"

"Depends on how you define 'Northeast'," I answered. "Penn State is historically a powerhouse, and Pittsburgh is sometimes good. Boston College and Rutgers are having nice seasons."

"Who else?" she asked.

Umm...must go blog.

First of all, Penn State and Pittsburgh are borderline in this discussion. When she said "Northeast," I knew what she meant - she meant Big East basketball country, the New England-New York-New Jersey corridor of her youth. The knee-jerk answer to this question - the high school talent in that part of the country can't compete with that of Florida, Texas, Ohio, California, et al - is a fallacy. Those states have a much larger pool of talent from which to draw, but having lived in central Connecticut for nearly seven years, I would argue that the top high school players in New York, New Jersey, or Connecticut have just as much Division I potential as the top high school kids in the Sun Belt states.

Florida State defensive back Myron Rolle is from Princeton, New Jersey. Florida offensive lineman Phil Trautwein is a Jersey kid, too. So is Miami tight end Greg Olsen. They're up there. There's fewer of them, but they're up there. Of course, the three players I just named all left the Northeast to come to Florida, which might provide a partial answer to Mrs. Watson's original query.

To the internet, and the spectacular Stassen college football database, which produces a grand total of three traditional "Northeastern" schools among the top 50 winningest programs of the last 50 years: Penn State (4th, 73.7%, still a borderline "Northeastern" school), Syracuse (31st, 58.9%), and Boston College (T-36th, 56.5%). By comparison, the Southeastern Conference has seven schools in the top 20, the state of California has three schools in the top 30, and your top three overall are Nebraska, Ohio State, and Oklahoma.

Over the last ten years, the numbers are even worse: removing the geographically troublesome Penn State from the equation, our Northeastern heroes Boston College and Syracuse barely crack the top 50; in fact, they're in a dead heat, tied for 43rd in overall winning percentage, with identical 75-57 records from 1995-2005.

Hmmm. Is it telling that I referred to the region as "Big East basketball country?" I checked the NCAA's official basketball statistics site and found four Northeastern schools in the top ten - St. John's, Syracuse, Temple, and Penn (the Quakers play in Philly; that counts as Northeastern for me). Princeton, Bradley, Villanova, St. Joseph's, UConn, and Fordham make it ten Northeastern schools among the top 50 all-time in college basketball wins (through 2004, the most recent list at the NCAA's site). Maybe the warm-state schools simply focus more on football, while those who suffer through Northern winters prefer their sports indoors?

Sounds great, until you check the last ten NCAA men's basketball champions: only UConn (twice) and Syracuse make the list, surrounded by two SEC schools (Kentucky 2X and Florida), three ACC schools (North Carolina, Maryland, Duke), and two schools from the Pac-10 (UCLA and Arizona). Furthermore, if you trace the entire history of the NCAA men's basketball tournament, dating back to 1939, only two Northeastern schools other than UConn and Syracuse claim national titles: Villanova in 1985, and City College of New York in 1950 - a title that was tainted a year later when seven CCNY players were charged in a national game-fixing scandal.

Have I mentioned that the NCAA's list of the 50 all-time winningest basketball teams includes four SEC schools, three ACC schools, and seven Pac-10 schools? So much for the "basketball country" theory.

So we're back to square one. Why aren't there more great football programs up north? Logic suggests that weather has something to do with it, as does population - from 1990 through 2000, Arizona, Florida, Georgia, Texas, and North Carolina were all top-10 among American states in population growth, while Massachusetts, New York, Rhode Island, Maine, Connecticut, and Pennsylvania were all among the bottom ten. More people means more kids, which means a deeper talent pool. This theory would be bulletproof were it not for Ohio, which was also in the bottom ten for population growth from 1990 to 2000, yet manages to crank out some pretty good football players year after year.

To me, it boils down to two factors: commitment and competition. Schools that historically succeed in football are more likely to continue pouring time, money, and resources into the sport; in that sense, it's a never-ending cycle. And football schools that are geographically convenient to other football schools mutually improve each other. Exhibit A is the Southeastern Conference; Exhibit B is Penn State's non-conference schedule.

The flip side to this question: schools that have the resources and the geographical competition, but don't have the football history or success. South Carolina, North Carolina, Duke, and Stanford come to mind, among others. Why are they only occasionally competitive?

Umm...must go blog. Some other time.

Keep Shooting

Ten days since I updated the blog. Can you tell it's college football season? If we didn't have cable television, my kids would forget what I looked like between September and December.

On Tuesday, another Orlando Sentinel columnist took another shot at the effort to build a new Magic arena. No Mike Thomas or Scott Maxwell this time - instead, it was business writer Susan Strother Clarke, and unlike Thomas and Maxwell, she got most of it right:

"Five years ago, when a new-arena discussion was under way, team owner Rich DeVos stuck his billionaire foot in his mouth, offering a ridiculously low $10.5 million toward the project and threatening to move the team if he didn't get his way. The Magic have been cleaning up after DeVos ever since -- and now they're scared to say much of anything."

True and true. What Clarke was referring to was the Magic's presentation before the Orange County Commission this week, making their case for a piece of the proposed tourist tax increase. Due credit to Ms. Clarke for actually attending the meeting (take notes, Mike) and correctly summarizing the Magic's reluctance to attach themselves to a specific dollar figure.

I brought this up to one of my many friends in the Magic front office, someone who, like me, goes back to the salad days of Shaq, Penny, and sellouts. And he brought up a couple of interesting points.

First, if this idea to build a new "events center" (or whatever we wish to call it) somewhere near International Drive gains legs, the cost of said building might change dramatically. While an I-Drive Arena would be repulsive to most locals, it would arguably cost less to build, thanks to cheaper land (possibly free, if you believe some of the 'land-swap' theories floating around) and reduced impact on existing structures - i.e., no demolitions or relocations. If the Magic commit to a dollar figure now, and the building ends up on I-Drive, that dollar figure might represent a much higher percentage of the total cost than the Magic deem fair. So why bother throwing that number out there? As Bianchi pointed out last week, who agrees to a price on a new house without knowing what neighborhood it's in?

Second point, according to my contact, is even more believable. No matter what dollar figure the Magic pledge toward a new building, they're gonna get hammered by somebody in the media - probably these same Sentinel columnists. Further, half of the Orlando population will call it "not enough" - again, no matter what that number may be. So, again, why bother? The Magic's approach appears to be to stay out of the spotlight - their modus operandi throughout the entire Push For A New Arena Part Deux - and take the occasional stomach punches from the media hounds, without committing themselves to anything in print until the arena is close to reality. It may not be the best approach from a public relations standpoint, but it's one way to avoid a repeat of the Grubby Little Fingers Incident and keep themselves out of the crosshairs.

Now, if the tax increase is passed, and a new arena is a confirmed part of the plan, and the team STILL doesn't take the offensive by taking their financial message to the streets - well, if that happens, they deserve every shot they get. But I would wager that once the details of the new arena/arts center/Citrus Bowl plan come into focus, the franchise will start the hard sell.

At least, I hope so.

On a basketball note - met J.J. Redick for the first time today. We shot an interview on the Magic's practice court for the upcoming Magic season preview show on Sun Sports. Nice guy. The idea behind the interview, which you'll see on that preview show next month, was to get him talking about shooting, and the mentality of a "gunner."

At one point, I asked if he considered himself the "most hated player in the ACC" while at Duke. He replied that he was probably the most hated player in America while at Duke, which was a good point. The look on his face when he said it, however, gave me pause.

Redick went on to say that he's a different person off the floor than on it, and that the venom directed at him over the course of his Duke career snowballed, took on a life of its own. I got the sense that he wouldn't mind being liked, for a change. I almost felt sorry for him, and immediately regretted asking the question.

The point of the question, by the way, was to get him to this one: "Would you mind being hated in the NBA, if it meant being hated the way Reggie Miller was hated - despised by opposing fans, but adored by home fans for his willingness and unprecedented skill at making big shots at key moments?"

That prompted a smile. "If I get the ball in that situation, sure," he said, "but I'm just a rookie. I'm not sure how many chances I'll get as a rookie."

They grow 'em pretty smart up at Duke. Defer to the veterans, play it cool, wait your turn. I'm starting to like him already.

And in case you're wondering - Redick's range extends a good five feet beyond the three-point line. It's all about the lift, people.

The Big Three (Plus Two)

You're killing me here, fellas.

See, I had this theory. I called it The Big Five. And this theory, which was based on ardent research and just a hint of optimism, postulated that there would come a day - in my lifetime - when UCF and USF would be on par with the so-called "Big Three" of Florida, Florida State, and Miami. God, it was a great theory.

Then I watched USF barely tread water on their home field in beating Florida International by a single point, whilst UCF simultaneously laid a one-ton egg at the Swamp. As Brady Ackerman told me on the Sun Sports set before our Seminole and Gator Postgame shows, "the ol' Big Five theory took a hit today, huh?"

Yes, it did. You're killing me, Bulls and Knights. Just killing me.

The theory is not dead (it's only mostly dead, says Miracle Max). It's not dead because the rationale is unchanged: UCF and USF sit in the heart of Florida's most fertile recruiting grounds. They are huge schools - 45,000 and 41,000 students, respectively, compared to 48,000 for Florida, 37,000 for Florida State, and 15,000 for Miami. The math alone would compel one to believe that at some point, UCF and USF would be able to draw enough athletes to compete with the Big Three on the football field. Couple players with facilities - an investment that both South Florida and the University of Central Florida have committed to make - and I still like that theory.

However, the snarky among us seized upon Saturday's events - particularly UCF's non-appearance at Ben Hill Griffin Stadium - to declare that The Big Five was officially pushing up daisies. Of course, I speak of the King of Snark himself, my friend Mike Bianchi, who took a veiled shot at me in his Sunday morning column:

"There has been some silly talk over the past few months about how the state of Florida is on the verge of becoming the "Big Five," with UCF and USF ready to join the "Big Three" of Miami, Florida and Florida State as nationally elite programs. After Saturday, such talk seems about a decade premature."

Gee, wonder where he got that. Mike, could you at least put my name on the theory before crumpling it up and tossing it into the wastebasket?

El Snarko was referring to the UF-UCF game, but I'm not letting USF off the hook, either. A few South Florida fans have e-mailed me in past months insisting that the Bulls are miles ahead of the Golden Knights in football development, citing USF's membership in the Big East - a BCS league - as Exhibit A. Look, if being a member of a BCS league is such a freaking advantage, USF should be wiping the grass with Sun Belt teams like Florida International. Yet, FIU played the Bulls to a standstill on Saturday. For that matter, BCS league membership hasn't exactly rocketed Duke, Wake Forest, or Vanderbilt into the upper echelon, and those three programs have played a combined 300-plus seasons of college football. The "BCS/no BCS" argument has been revoked until further notice.

BCS membership alone isn't enough to vault a team to prominence, nor is a lack of BCS access a stake through the heart. All that matters is the winning. Wins like USF's historic drubbing of Louisville last year, or UCF's victory over Alabama in 2000. The Golden Knights had a chance to claim another program-changing victory this weekend, and it weren't even close.

Which brings me back to The Snarkanator, M. Bianchi, and his Sunday column:

"Here's the thing UCF fans need to understand. There are a dozen teams out there who believe they are going to become the next big-time football program. UCF believes it. USF believes it. Fresno State and Boise State believe it. And after Saturday's near-upset of Florida State, Troy believes it, too.

The point is this: You don't become big time just by hiring George O'Leary and building a football stadium. It takes years, decades, sometimes generations to get to where Florida is."

He's right - almost. You get to where Florida is - or Florida State, or Miami - by winning. Which, Mikey, Fresno State and Boise State have done:

NCAA DIVISION I FOOTBALL WINS LEADERS
2001-2005 (five seasons)

1. Texas (56)
2. Oklahoma (55)
3. Southern Cal (54)
T4. Miami (53)
T4. Boise State (53)
6. Georgia (52)
7. LSU (51)
8. Ohio State (50)
T9. Louisville (47)
T9. Virginia Tech (47)
T11. Fresno State (46)
T11. Auburn (46)
T13. Iowa (45)
T13. Toledo (45)
T15. Florida State (44)
T15. Michigan (44)
T15. Tennessee (44)
T18. Boston College (43)
T18. Bowling Green (43)
T18. TCU (43)
T21. Florida (42)
T21. Miami-Ohio (42)
T21. Utah (42)

I've bolded the Big Three, as well as eight other programs that I'll bet Sir Snarkalot never would have guessed to be in the top twenty in D-I wins since the turn of the century.

This list, above all other arguments, is why I remain committed to a Big Five. With all due respect to the lovely hamlets of Boise, Louisville, Fresno, Chestnut Hill, Bowling Green, Fort Worth, Oxford, and Salt Lake City, there's nothing they've got that Tampa and Orlando don't - and none of those other cities are chest-deep in the kind of high school talent that Florida produces every year. There's no reason why USF or UCF couldn't join this list five years from now, if the commitment from both administrations continues on its present course (read: spending).

Last point: Mike's line about "years, decades, sometimes generations to get to where Florida is" reminds me of another criticism of the "Big Five," one that I've seen in print and heard in person: schools like UCF and USF don't have the history and tradition of schools like Florida State, Miami, and Florida.

Remind me again how many touchdowns History scored last year? How many interceptions did Tradition pull down? Have they ever been out clubbing with Curt Schilling's pals Mystique and Aura?

Today's high school seniors were 13 years old the last time Miami won a national title. They were 11 years old the last time Florida State won it; when the Gators last claimed the national championship, these seniors were in second grade. The high school recruiting class of 2011 - five years from now - are currently 7th-graders. Nostalgia is great tailgate conversation for alumni, but if today's kids like what they see from USF and UCF over these next five years, History and Tradition may not count for much.

The only thing that can make The Big Five a reality is winning. And when UCF and USF meet at the Citrus Bowl this Saturday, both will have plenty of motivation to do just that.

As for the rest of the season - help me out, fellas. I'm getting creamed over here.

Getting Defensive

So let me get this straight - the Marlins are contending for a wild card berth, UCF has been picked to win its division in Conference USA, and Florida State just beat Miami with one yard of rushing offense and two critical field goals.

Yup, it's official. We are in Bizarro Sports World.

Anyone who watched the live postgame show on Sun Sports after the FSU-Miami tilt on Labor Day (and we thank you for staying up late with us) had to notice how many Seminoles brought glowing praise for kicker Gary Cismesia, who drilled two rather pedestrian field goals in a 13-10 win. His teammates were practically carrying "The Weed" off the Orange Bowl turf on their shoulders. In his on-field interview with Tom Block, Bobby Bowden said he was accustomed to Wide Left or Wide Right, "not Wide Middle." Think the kicking game is deeply wired within the synapses of the Seminoles?

Monday night should be Exhibit A (with last year's equally drab 10-7 snorefest Exhibit B) in the case for pushing FSU-Miami back on the schedule. At this time of year, defenses are always ahead of offenses. As a college football guy, I'd much rather see Florida State and Miami when both are firing on all cylinders offensively - say, around mid-October. That being said, all due credit and props to both defenses, which combined to allow three rushing yards (!) and only nine third-down conversions in 31 attempts. Weren't nobody moving the football at the OB on Monday.

Stats can be deceiving. In the end, FSU made plays, and Miami didn't. And consider this: FSU quarterback Drew Weatherford now has 18 career touchdown passes and 19 career interceptions - plus an ACC Championship ring and a 2-0 record against Miami. As it has been written, winning solves everything.

So let's get down to business. How can UCF beat Florida next week?

They can't. Not yet, anyway. As my college football mentor, Brady Ackerman, once told me: "in the second half, Grasshopper, athletes take over." That he told me this while walking on rice paper without leaving a footprint merely amplified its resonance.

Florida has more athletes. For now, anyway. There will come a day when schools like UCF and South Florida can match the depth of the Big Three. It is inevitable, and it will be termed the "Big Five." This is my word, and my word is law.

But in the meantime, UCF allowed 241 passing yards against I-AA Villanova in week one. Not good. On the plus side, the Golden Knights only gave up 81 yards on the ground. However, as I may have mentioned, it was I-AA Villanova.

You know what UCF was good at last year? Punt returns. 16.5 yards per return, 4th in the nation, tops in Conference USA (see: Burnett, Joe). They were also top-3 in Conference USA in rushing offense (167 ypg), passing efficiency (139.55), and turnover margin (+.92, 12th in the nation), hallmarks of George O'Leary's ball-control philosophy.

Florida, meanwhile, was 8th in the SEC in pass defense at 204 passing yards allowed per game - and that was WITH Dee Webb, Vernell Brown, and Jarvis Herring, all of whom were in NFL camps this summer. The revamped Florida secondary of The Reggies Nelson and Lewis plus Ryan Smith looked better than okay against Southern Miss - but remember, USM quarterback Jeremy Young was playing in his 11th college football game, making only his second start. Steven Moffett ain't no Jeremy Young.

On Saturday against Villanova, the Knights went three-and-out on their first possession before Moffett caught fire: 10-for-10 for 146 yards and three touchdowns as UCF scored on four straight possessions. Go back to that UCF stat on pass efficiency - Moffett is nothing if not efficient. He may not have many home-run chances against UF, but he can nickle-and-dime with the best of them.

The Gators were very good against the run last season - 4th in the SEC and 10th in the nation at 94 rushing yards allowed per game - so this will be an excellent test for Kevin Smith and Jason Peters. That UCF rushing tandem combined for almost 140 yards per game last season, with Smith earning C-USA Freshman of the Year honors. If O'Leary is patient, and his players avoid stupid mistakes, the Golden Knights will make a game of it next Saturday. For a while.

Then, the athletes will take over. So it is written, Grasshopper. So it shall be done.