Network of Champions

This Saturday at noon, I will host Sun Sports' coverage of the Florida Gators' championship pep rally at the Swamp in Gainesville. This will be the fourth championship parade-slash-celebration that I have hosted since I returned home to Florida in August of 2003: the Lightning's Stanley Cup parade in '04, the basketball Gators' O-Dome party in the spring of '06, the Heat's parade through the searing streets of Miami in the summer of '06, and now the football Gators. If your kid's Pop Warner team wins the league title this year and earns a pizza party, call me. I have experience.

Monday, January 8th, the day of the BCS National Championship Game, dawned as my two previous mornings in Scottsdale had done, under a blue dome of perfection. Arizona is mesmerizing. The weather was too good to stay inside, and since I had a couple of hours before I had to hop the media bus to Glendale, I decided to go for a run in the hilly neighborhoods behind the resort. The Scottsdale area is a high rent district, to put it mildly, and there are some homes cut into the rocky mesas behind Camelback that are dead solid Architectural Digest. The stunning homes, combined with the breathtaking views from the mountaintops, put me in an excellent frame of mind for the ride to the BCS Championship Game.

One thing I learned this weekend: to create a truly excellent college bowl game/Super Bowl/similar big athletic event, you've got to have complete and total buy-in from all relevant parties. Local police, fire, hotels, restaurants, attractions, golf courses, bus lines - everybody has to be cognizant of the event, ready to handle the extra numbers, and willing to do so, with the understanding that a rising tide (read: spending) eventually lifts all boats. I say this because, based on what I saw this weekend, the Phoenix area appears to get it.

There wasn't a single necessity left unconsidered for the media at the Camelback Inn. The local businesses were friendly and inviting. Covering a game on the road, which can often be an irritating process, was downright convenient. Hell, they gave us a police escort from the hotel to the stadium on Monday, lest the media hacks get caught in traffic.

Know what that produces? Good feeling. Positive impressions. The legions of fans and media who descended upon the Valley of the Sun for the game all went home blabbing about how wonderful the place is - some of us even wrote blogs about it. That positive word-of-mouth eventually translates into investment. And THAT is why cities fight to improve their facilities for things like bowl games and Super Bowls, a concept that still escapes too many people in Orlando.

But you have to do it right, or it can backfire dramatically (see: Jacksonville's Super Bowl, and the snarky columns that followed from the national media). Even with a great stadium, an event is doomed if there are too many shareholders unwilling to jump on board. The Phoenix area, including Glendale and Scottsdale, absolutely nailed the BCS Championship Game.

Glendale is about a half-hour west of downtown Phoenix. The University of Phoenix Stadium (built as Cardinals Stadium) rises from a flat stretch of desert next to a highway, a silvery bulb framed against the mesas. The media bus dropped us on the north side of the parking lot about four hours before game time.

Tailgating was in full swing, with the crowd about 70-30 in favor of Ohio State. A couple of traveling Gators from Ocala recognized me as I walked toward our set. There was a pretty decent buzz around the stadium, in all senses of the word. Some of these people probably would have been wise to pace themselves.

Our set was at "College Football's Biggest Party," a sponsor-fest on browned-out practice fields next to the stadium. It was a 25-dollar ticket to get some food, drink, and entertainment. The place was mobbed. Sun Sports had a football toss set up next to the stage where we gave away t-shirts. I loved the text on the shirt: "On the 8th day, the desert turned to Swamp." Gotta steal me one of those next time I head for the downtown office.

With all the well-lubricated Gator fans in attendance, our live pregame show at 4:30 local time was energetic. Doering was back. Terry Jackson and Joe Germaine sat together - Germaine being the quarterback of the 1996 Ohio State team that defeated 2nd-ranked Arizona State, which gave Jackson's Florida team a (successful) shot at a national title in the Sugar Bowl against Florida State. Terry thanked Joe, personally, for the favor done by the Buckeyes ten years earlier. This may mean nothing to you, but that's good TV, dammit.

The only downside to our outdoor pregame location was the omnipresent cloud of fine dust that settled on our desk, our suits, our hair, everywhere. West Texas-style grunge. Nasty stuff. It's the desert, dummy.

Brady, Terry and I happened to walk into the stadium at the south end, which is where they wheel out the grass when needed. With the turf in its rightful place inside the stadium, the exterior lot was filled with satellite trucks, more than I've ever seen in one place. We showed our press credentials for the third time (good luck sneaking in) and entered the stadium.

Many people assume that I spend most weekends attending college football games, but the opposite is true - because we produce pregame and postgame shows from the studio, I rarely attend games. Walking onto the field during the pregame warmups was a little mind-blowing. The sheer scale of University of Phoenix Stadium is staggering, especially with the roof closed, as it was when we entered (they would later open the roof for the fly-by, then close it again for game time). I get a little vertigo just remembering the view from field level. Also pretty cool to stand on the turf next to the players - again, I'm in studio all season. I see the athletes during media days, or when we schedule a sit-down interview. Standing next to Reggie Nelson while he's in uniform is a sharp reminder that the purpose of all this nonsense is, in fact, a football game.

Stands matched the parking lot: 70-30 in favor of Ohio State. A sea of red on the east side. Couple of young Gator fans with very good seats hollered at us - "there WILL be a postgame show tonight!" Seeing as how we were promoting said postgame show as dependent upon a Florida win, I was impressed with both their confidence and their attention to detail.

Media overflow, as is usually the case at games of this magnitude, was in the stratosphere. Section 402, Row 18. Anything higher requires FAA clearance. The view wasn't that bad, though. We also had the Florida student section next to us, which I didn't mind at all. Sometimes it's fun to watch others having fun.

Oddly enough, Ginn's opening kickoff return for a touchdown didn't bother me all that much. As was written here, Florida has been winning bizarre games all season - Ohio State going 93 yards on the opening kick seemed to fit right in. When Florida answered with a touchdown on its first drive, then came back to take a 14-7 lead in the quarter, I thought it sent the correct message - "we plan to be here all night."

And man, did they show up. I told Frank Frangie after the game that it seemed as if the offense suddenly "got it" just in time for the SEC Championship Game and the BCS Championship Game. All the tweaks and subtleties that Urban Meyer and his staff have been throwing at these players for the last two years have tumbled into place. Mistakes were minimal; everyone knew where he was supposed to be. They weren't thinking anymore, they were playing. This is what it's supposed to look like.

Defensively, they were monsters. Speed, speed, and more speed. Of all the possible storylines for this game - all the noodles that all the columnists threw at the wall over the last month - the one that stuck was "speed." Florida had it, Ohio State didn't. Is that purely an athletic difference? Not necessarily. The Buckeyes looked flat out of the gate (other than Ginn's KO return), perhaps from the 51 days they spent reading their own clippings. Once they got down - trailing at the half for the first time all season, the 20-point deficit their largest of the year - they seemed befuddled. Clearly, this was not a team accustomed to catching up. Predictably, they didn't, aided by coach Jim Tressel's panicky decision to go for it on 4th-and-one in the first half. You can say you picked Florida to win, as I did, but anyone who claims they saw a blowout coming is flat-out lying. The Gators simply peaked at exactly the correct time.

Our postgame show was a bit muted. No fans out by the set at that late hour, very chilly in the desert at night. I'm sure that the big celebration will bust out on Saturday, when the team returns to the Swamp at noon (live on Sun Sports). Florida becomes the first school ever to hold the mens' basketball and football championships at the same time, which means that Sun Sports becomes the first cable network in history to telecast the defending hoops, football, and NBA champs concurrently. We are truly the Network of Champions. Florida State and the Orlando Magic: you're on the clock.

I leave Scottsdale, sadly, and head for Sky Harbor. I make my connection in San Francisco, incredibly, and head for home. Florida's championship means more work for us in the coming weeks - aside from the pep rally on Saturday, don't forget about those replays of the game on Friday and Sunday - but it's good for business. Rising tides lift all boats.

Speaking of which, the Chevy Florida Fishing Report returns next month. One season into the next.