Artists and Mechanics 2007 (Chapter I)

Fellow blogger Brian at College Football Resource has thrown down the gauntlet, again.

College Football Resource (CFR) loves the Theory of Artists and Mechanics (and honestly, who doesn't?). We've traded many an e-mail -- and generated much content for both sites --on this topic. For the complete timeline, start with the theory itself, move to Brian's first reply, follow that with my follow-up at CFR, and then come full circle to CFR's 2007 call to arms, which arrived in my mailbox this week.

While CFR likes to take the theory national, pondering the Artist vs. Mechanic tendencies of, for example, Pete Carroll and Jimmy Clausen, I know where my bread is buttered. Thankfully, so does Brian, and that's why he put up a list of Florida football personalities for me to break down. There was also the tantalizing offer to assign some of my fellow Sun Sports personalities into the "Artist" or "Mechanic" camp.

Create fresh content for two blogs at once, and possibly rip Mike Bianchi in the process? Is today Christmas?

Let's examine the list, as it was presented to me:

Randy Shannon: Mechanic. I've met the coach a few times, including our interview for "In My Own Words" this summer, and he strikes me as a by-the-book dude. While he's an exceptional recruiter -- a skill that screams Artist -- his attention to discipline, doing the little things correctly, and hammering the details betrays him as a Mechanic. If you spend some time learning about his background, how he lost several family members under tragic circumstances and escaped the violent streets of Liberty City in Miami as the first member of his family to graduate from college, his Mechanic tendencies start to make sense. When faced with life-or-death choices, as Shannon surely was in his youth, adhering to a self-imposed set of rules can be a powerful tool for survival. Randy Shannon's meticulous nature got him out of the projects and into the head coaching job at Miami. He's the Mechanic's Mechanic. Is that what the Hurricane football program needed? The administration at UM is banking on it.

Jimbo Fisher, Rick Trickett: I group these two new assistants at Florida State together because, as the post at CFR asks, "are there any Artists among FSU's new coaches?" I would say "yes" to both, simply because the perception of these two men in particular is that of "guru," and gurus are wheelhouse Artists. Both Fisher and Trickett may indeed be inventive and/or process-oriented in the manner of a Mechanic, but that's not why they were hired -- they were hired to make a splashy statement to Florida State fans, boosters, and players that the Seminoles are serious. Their reputation precedes them. They bring cache' and credibility to the FSU football program. They're rock stars in the world of assistant coaches. Thus, Artists.

Tim Tebow: I thought long and hard about this one, and I'm going with Artist. Anybody who can execute the jump-pass in a critical SEC matchup against LSU cannot be anything else. One of Urban Meyer's biggest concerns about Tebow this year will be keeping him healthy -- not because of any weakness in Florida's offensive line, which happens to be one of the best and most experienced in the Southeastern Conference -- but because Tebow is a linebacker in a quarterback's body. The young man simply likes to hit people. He's all about the experience, which is part of the definition of Artist. He's just a football player, the highest compliment a head coach can bestow. It's interesting that the Gator coaching staff has spent a lot of time working with Tebow on his throwing motion this summer. They're trying to work a little Mechanic into him. But ask yourself this -- if you had to compare the kid to any quarterback in the NFL right now, who's the first guy that comes to mind?

Right. Brett Favre. Not based on skill, yet, but based on sheer love of the game. Tebow and Favre both play football as if they were on an empty sandlot, two-hand touch, gotta be home before it gets dark and Mom yells at us. Artists.

Matt Grothe: USF's starting quarterback, the reigning Big East freshman of the year, is a bona fide Artist. Led the team in both passing and rushing last year. Loves to fish. Threw two interceptions early in the game last year against 7th-ranked West Virginia before rallying the Bulls to an upset win. Nothing bothers this kid. It's all about the experience. In private e-mails with CFR, I opined that USF would probably have given both Florida State and Miami a pretty decent game last year, especially if the Bulls had played at home or at a neutral site. Frankly, I think USF was the second-best team in Florida in 2006. And a young Artist shall lead them.

Percy Harvin: Artist. Ever seen him run? Anybody else catch the brutal expletive he dropped during his live postgame interview after the SEC Championship Game? Much like Tebow, Harvin plays with joy, a sign of the Artist. Consequences be damned.

Myron Rolle: Another tough one. His "renaissance man" reputation is well-earned. Rolle is an excellent student, having played his high school football at the Hun School in New Jersey (average SAT score: 1200), where he earned just about every academic honor you can imagine. In fact, he enters the 2007 football season as an athletic sophomore but very nearly an academic senior -- he's three hours shy of completing enough classes to finish his junior year. FSU's bio page calls Rolle "one of the most academically advanced players in college football history," and it's hard to argue otherwise.

But despite all that, despite his dream of becoming a Rhodes scholar and a doctor, despite the fact that he played the lead role in "Fiddler On The Roof" as a high school senior, I'm going with Mechanic, and here's why: do you have any idea how hard it is to maintain that level of academic excellence and play as a starter on a Division I football team? His time management skills have got to be legendary. Spring football, summer workouts, preseason two-a-days, travel to and from games during the season -- and he's still an honor roll guy? That's impressive. It requires exacting attention to detail, self-discipline, and diligence. His days must be scheduled to the minute. Mechanic.

Terry Bowden: I had to chuckle when I read this one. I only know Terry a little bit, but I'm guessing Artist. His radio and TV work leads me to believe that he's a performer at heart, and I think he has a little of his dad's riverboat gambler in him. Given the decidedly Mechanic nature of his brother Tommy, I'd be willing to bet that Ann Bowden is a Mechanic too. Some of the Bowden kids got Artist from Dad, others got Mechanic from Mom. And since Artists and Mechanics need each other, as I have posited, that would explain Bobby and Ann's 58-year marriage.

Now, the wild cards, drawn from the Sun Sports roster of talent:

Brady Ackerman: Mechanic. Very process-oriented. Good salesman, works the details. Anybody who survived four years as a running back under Steve Spurrier has to have a game plan, and Brady usually does.

Terry Norvelle: Artist. A born performer. Shine a flashlight into his face and he's liable to break into the theme song from "High School Musical."

Chris Doering: Artist. Most pass-catchers are. In his case, he was never the fastest or the biggest, just the guy who got it done. Results supercede process. Artist 101.

William Floyd: Whatever he wants to be, because he still looks like he could kill a man with his bare hands. I'll go Artist, however. He's more creative than you might expect from a fullback.

Steve Walsh: Mechanic. Steve is a tactician. Very methodical and careful in his planning for the Tailgate Overtime show. Minimize mistakes. Sounds like a QB who survived 11 years in the NFL, doesn't it?

Mike Bianchi: Artist. As I have written here before, I love the fact that Mikey always sides with the righteous underdog in his columns. His favorite quote: "The job of the sports columnist is to watch the battle from the mountaintop and then ride down and bayonet the wounded." Tilting at windmills is a favorite hobby of Artists.

And me? As much as I'd love to think of myself as an Artist, I have to face reality: Mechanic. I'm all about the research. For me, live television is easy once you know you've done the homework. I'm very much a "measure twice, cut once" kind of guy. One of my personal favorite quotes came from the late Ronald Reagan, who liked to say, "trust, but verify." And by the way, it took me three days to write this entry.

Of course, this list will be updated throughout the season. Stay tuned.

Adios, OB

On March 12th of this year, I interviewed new University of Miami head coach Randy Shannon for an episode of "In My Own Words" on Sun Sports. There were whispers that UM might be considering a move out of the Orange Bowl, but at the time, they were just that -- whispers.

I still have the script I wrote for that interview. I checked it this morning. Here's the question I asked Shannon back in March:

"During the coaching search, there was talk in the media regarding the quality of Miami's facilities. What's your stance on the Orange Bowl?"

Shannon responded by saying something about "staying out of it," preferring to allow his bosses at Miami to handle such weighty matters. Fair enough. He was a brand new head coach, with more relevant matters to consider -- like how to improve a team that was 7-6 the previous season -- and the last thing he wanted to do was stir the pot. Fine.

However, I'm a TV guy, so I pressed him: "Surely, though, you must feel some kind of attachment to that building, having won a national championship as a player at Miami."

Shannon refused to bite. He shrugged off the suggestion, acting as if there was so such thing as nostalgia. Honestly, he offered nothing that would indicate that he had any fond memories of the "OB" at all. It was surprising, and odd.

In the days that followed, as I watched the tape, I figured that maybe he was simply an all-business kind of guy. No time for jogs down memory lane, not with a team to coach and players to recruit. There was a little voice that made me wonder if he was following a game plan, purposely downplaying the Orange Bowl talk in light of these "whispers," but I never gave it much more thought than that.

In retrospect, I think he knew.

I think Randy Shannon knew in March that the Hurricanes were not long for the Orange Bowl. Maybe he didn't "officially" know, maybe it was just an intuition, but he knew. In light of this week's news, his non-answer in March may have been a savvy evasion, even if it was unintentional.

Then again, don't you think the topic of facilities came up when Shannon was interviewing for the coaching vacancy? Shannon's been playing and coaching there for most of his adult life. Even before he put on the Hurricanes' uniform, he saw that hulking structure every day as a kid growing up in Liberty City. The conditions at the Orange Bowl have been in front of him forever. As a UM player and coach, he's visited stadiums all over the country, seen the on-campus palaces at places like Florida State and Florida. He's seen the looks on the faces of recruits who step into the Orange Bowl, or any of Miami's practice facilities, and begin mentally comparing the amenities to those they've seen on other visits. Shannon has probably made those same comparisons a hundred times in his own mind, too.

If you were Randy Shannon, and you were interviewing with athletic director Paul Dee and university president Donna Shalala for the Hurricanes' head coaching job, would you not bring up the question of facilities? Wouldn't the Orange Bowl come up in the conversation? And if we accept that, does that mean that Shannon knew something was up as early as last November, when he was among several candidates for the job?

Maybe his non-answer to my question wasn't unintentional, after all.

Among everything that I have read this week regarding UM's decision to move to Dolphin Stadium, nothing is more interesting -- or more telling -- than the letter that Paul Dee sent out to Hurricane season ticket holders explaining the move. One of those Miami supporters sent me a copy on Tuesday morning.

The opening paragraph reads as follows: "As you probably have heard, a decision has been made for the Hurricanes to move their home football games from the Orange Bowl Stadium to Dolphin Stadium expected to begin in 2008. This decision was extremely difficult for all involved."

Note that Dee doesn't write "we made a decision." Instead, he writes "a decision has been made." The use of the passive tense removes Dee from the equation. The entire paragraph reads as if Paul Dee, in his role as athletic director, is apologizing on behalf of those who actually made the call. This is a direct contrast to comments from University of Miami president Donna Shalala, who told the Miami Herald that she "initially resisted [Dee's] suggestion to consider moving."

So which is it? Was Paul Dee merely the messenger, carrying out orders handed to him by UM's trustees and administration, or was this his idea? If I had to guess -- and I admit I'm doing just that -- I'd say he was involved from the get-go. Like his new head coach, Dee has seen the facilities at other schools. He knows, probably more than anyone else in the country, the revenue streams and recruiting advantages that Miami was missing by playing in the OB. If anyone would benefit from a move to Dolphin Stadium, it would be Dee and his department. In fact, it would be his job, his responsibility as athletic director, to make sure the school president and the trustees understood what they were missing.

Three key players in this saga -- Randy Shannon, Paul Dee, and Donna Shalala -- all took great pains to avoid being portrayed as the engineer of this move, and for that, I cannot blame them. President Shalala said that she "didn't want to do it," and honestly, who would? Who wants to be the school president at Miami -- or the AD, or the head coach -- the day the Orange Bowl is shuttered? Until the Hurricanes step into Dolphin Stadium and show the fans, the media, and the boosters how much better a Miami home game could be, this will be a public relations nightmare. The reason, of course, is history.

For 70 years, the Orange Bowl has been a living symbol of Miami -- the city, the school, and the football team. National championships. Orange Bowl games. The smoke. Sebastian the Ibis. "Hurricane warning" flags. Beyond that, five Super Bowls, and the last link to the Dolphins' perfect NFL season. The Orange Bowl is one of the few links to Florida's history that still stands. Around here, where the state animal is the bulldozer and the state song is "No Closing Costs," those links are precious. The outcry in South Florida, especially among those who have lived and worked there for any amount of time, is understandably loud. At this very moment, I guarantee you there's a developer in Miami eyeing the Orange Bowl property as a possible site for a condo-hotel, and it makes my skin crawl, even from 200 miles away.

But Miami did what it had to do. In the interest of competing in the ACC, competing on a national scale, and competing for fans in South Florida, Miami made the only call it could make. As a business decision, it's a no-brainer. But in the realm of public opinion, it was a tortuous choice, and that's why nobody is leaping forward to claim it.

Just for fun, imagine if Paul Dee had stepped up to a podium on Monday morning and said the following:

"Look, the Orange Bowl opened in 1937. It's falling apart, and everybody knows it. It's dangerous and expensive for our fans to park and tailgate there, and more to the point, it's got none of the amenities that have come to be accepted as standard at major college stadiums. Dolphin Stadium has 240 suites and over 10,000 club seats. The OB has none of either. Dolphin Stadium is undergoing a massive expansion as we speak. The OB might get renovated, maybe, if the city and county can get their act together, set provincial politics aside, and approve some financing. Does anyone here think that will happen in my lifetime? How are the Marlins doing when it comes to public money for a stadium? And by the way, the university stands to make at least a million and a half bucks more per year -- conservatively -- by moving north. That's 1.5 mil that we can pour into practice facilities, scholarships, donations to academic programs, whatever. Per year. The new place is closer to Broward County, closer to the Turnpike, easier to get to, cleaner, better appointed, and even has 2,000 more seats than the Orange Bowl, which means more fans who otherwise couldn't get tickets to a Miami Hurricane football game now can.

Yeah, this sucks. We know it sucks. We know the history of the OB as well as anybody in the world. But what else are we supposed to do? It's 2007, people. We've got to move forward."

Of course, Paul Dee didn't say any of that, because he's way too smart, but you'd have respected him for being honest. Would he have made some people mad? Obviously. But would it be the truth? Definitely.

The University of Miami made a difficult, and currently unpopular, decision. But they did what they had to do in order to catch up with the rest of college football's major powers, and secure their own bottom line. If that leads to a resurrection of the Hurricane mystique, all will be forgiven.

In the meantime, watch out for those bulldozers.

Back To School

Is anyone else ready for this summer to be over?

Honestly. Between Barry Bonds, Michael Vick, and the latest hurricane, August has been skull-crushingly boring. I'm actually looking forward to golf's new playoff system, the FedEx Cup, even though Tiger Woods decided to skip the first tournament. He probably found out that the FedEx Cup champion doesn't actually get paid.

I watched an opening-round game at the Little League World Series yesterday. Last week, I almost watched a preseason NFL game. It's getting bad. Perhaps I need to see someone about this.

Fortunately, we're about to get down to college football bidness.

Tonight marks the debut of the second season of "Tailgate Overtime" on Sun Sports, the Monday night roundtable that pits former Gator Chris Doering, former Seminole William Floyd, and former Hurricane Steve Walsh in a battle of glibness with me, Orlando Sentinel columnist Mike Bianchi, and national sports radio host Todd Wright. While we're still two weeks away from season openers, there's no lack of topics to discuss, like...

Can Florida repeat?

If history is any indication, no. The last team to win back-to-back outright national titles was Nebraska in 1994 and 1995 (Southern Cal shared it with LSU in 2003 before winning it at 13-0 in 2004). Prior to the Huskers, you have to go back to the Oklahoma teams of 1955 and 1956 to find another back-to-back undisputed national champ. The math is not favorable.

Far more relevant than history, of course, is reality, which is this: Florida breaks in 9 new starters on defense this year. If I were an opposing offensive coordinator, my game plan against Florida is to pass, pass, and pass again. The untested linebackers and secondary will be a target until they prove otherwise. As it happens, Florida plays in the pass-happy half of the SEC, with Erik Ainge back at Tennessee, Matt Stafford a year older at Georgia, Steve Spurrier's boys pitchin' it around at South Carolina, and Andre Woodson -- who may be the best quarterback in the conference -- ready to carry Kentucky. Furthermore, if and when the Gators get out of the SEC East, they still have the preposterously loaded LSU Tigers to worry about.

Offensively, I think Florida might actually be in better shape than they were last year. Though inexperienced, Tim Tebow is clearly better suited for the type of offense that Urban Meyer prefers to run, and he's surrounded by gazelles. Percy Harvin, Andre Caldwell, Jarred Fayson, Brandon James, Louis Murphy, Chris Rainey, and eight other guys who could start almost anywhere else in the state -- Florida's offensive cup of talent is overflowing. The defense is the question, and the concern.

Florida will score points at Spurrieresque levels this season, but at some point, they'll have to stop somebody, too. The defense will decide their season. Winning the SEC is not out of the question, but another BCS Championship Game win? With Southern Cal, West Virginia, Michigan, and LSU lurking? I'm not ready to hitch up with that wagon just yet.

Will Florida State turn it around?

7-6 doesn't get it done around here. After several seasons of blaming Jeff Bowden for everything up to and including global warming, a soft housing market, and rising gas prices, Seminole fans got their wish when Bobby Bowden revamped his coaching staff with a roster of All-Star assistants. The upshot is this: we're about to find out if it really was the coaching all this time, as opposed to the far less attractive possibility that Florida State simply hasn't been recruiting enough talent.

The first order of business on offense is to decide on a quarterback, as Drew Weatherford and Xavier Lee battle for the job. By the way, I just cut and pasted that sentence from a blog entry in 2005. And 2006.

I have no idea how Weatherford and Lee conduct themselves behind the closed doors of the practice facility, but I'm completely impressed with the manner in which they have handled their very public three-year position battle. Neither one has snapped at the other yet, neither has dropped a comment like "well, the coaching staff has made their decision, and they went with Dipwad over there" on our live postgame show. Good for them.

In the "change my luck" department, Lee has decided to go back to his high school uniform number, because that's probably the last time he had fun playing football. Weatherford has grown his hair out from the freshman flattop to the Brodie Croyle moptop, because that's one of the four appearance changes that every male college student considers at least once during his four-year run.

(What's that? Oh, sure, be happy to: Long Hair, Goatee/Beard, Tattoo, Piercing. You all did at least one of those. I did three, but not all at the same time. I'm digressing again.)

Once the QB question is resolved, RB Antone Smith would love to deliver on the promise of Leon Washington and Lorenzo Booker before him, and I happen to think he'll turn out better than both. He should become the first FSU running back to gain 1,000 yards in a season since Warrick Dunn. Florida State brings 8 starters back on defense, and the first half of the schedule is favorable. There's a lot to be happy about.

The key question for Florida State involves the speed with which these players pick up on the instruction of the new staff. And once the coaching honeymoon period is over, are there enough good players on that roster to compete for the ACC title?

I think there are. I think there's a sense of relief now that the blistering media attention on Jeff Bowden is gone. I think there's a little desperation now, a good kind of desperation, as the new assistants and the players realize that Bobby Bowden is running out of chances. I think the current Seminoles are a better group than they've been given credit for. When they play free and easy -- as in last year's Emerald Bowl, for example -- they're pretty good.

They may not win their conference. They may not even reach the championship game. But they'll be better than 7-6. Maybe only one game better, but better.

Will Miami be Miami again?

Man, I wish I knew. The Hurricanes are a tough call this season. They've just looked lost over the last couple of years. Undisciplined, maybe, but more disinterested. Like most of them hate each other. Or just don't care about each other, which is worse.

Into this particular meadow of sweetness and light steps Randy Shannon, the former UM player and assistant, who brings precisely zero sympathy for the college football player of today. Not only is Shannon the first member of his family to earn a college degree, he's very nearly the first member of his family to make it out of Liberty City alive. "I overslept, Coach" is no longer a valid excuse for anything. Shannon's list of rules for Miami football players has been well-documented -- now we find out if it makes any difference.

Miami has the best secondary in the ACC and one of the best in the country. Javarris James (cousin of Edgerrin) has a chance to be excellent at RB. Their wideouts have let them down over the last two seasons, and there's competition at linebacker and tight end -- three positions that, over the years, helped build the Miami mystique. The Hurricanes have their own quarterback question, one that may be answered by injury. Kyle Wright has the experience, but Kirby Freeman had the momentum last season, and his case was helped when Wright aggravated a knee injury. In all, nine starters are back on offense, 8 on defense. That's a ton of talent returning, but it's talent that delivered a 7-6 record last season and a four-game losing streak that cost Larry Coker his job.

Because Randy Shannon is such a good man, I wish good things for Miami. But there's something in the back of my mind that makes me cautious. By the time the 'Canes play Florida State in October, we'll know who they really are.

What else is there?

Too much to list, actually. Is George O'Leary on the hot seat at UCF after a giant step backwards last season? Can we truly call it a "Big Four" in this state now that South Florida is receiving preseason top-25 votes? Can Kerwin Bell make Jacksonville University football interesting? Will Florida International win a game this season?

We'll take these one day at a time. Gotta pace myself. Like I said, August has been tough.

See you on TV.

What Did I Miss?

So I just got home from vacation-- did I miss anything?

I mean, other than Tiger shooting 63 at the PGA Championship, Barry Bonds hitting number 755 (and 756), and the Orlando Magic abandoning the Magic Television Network -- did I really miss anything?

I take the family on a beach trip at about this time each year, squeezing in some final vacation days before the beginning of college football season and the end of my social life as I know it. While I have chosen Amelia Island, Florida in the past, we picked Hilton Head, South Carolina this time around. Not the best call, as it turned out.

We arrived in the Low Country just in time for a record-breaking heat wave. As in historic. As in a heat index of 110 or higher every day last week. Seriously, it was hot enough to make one woozy. I was so delirious, I imagined that an NBA franchise had actually signed Penny Hardaway.

What? That really happened?

Given that I watched zero television last week, you cannot imagine my surprise to catch that little nugget in Hilton Head's local paper (an excellent read, by the way). Once I got over the shock, I decided that it wasn't so crazy after all.

Seriously, it's a no-lose for the Heat. Hardaway is guaranteed nothing but a shot at making the team in preseason training camp. If nothing else, it guarantees the franchise some ink after an otherwise tepid off-season, one that saw several other teams in the Eastern Conference make seemingly quantum leaps forward.

When asked about Penny Hardaway -- and it happens more often than you think -- I provide a stock response, one that is based on my four seasons as an Orlando Magic employee, four years that happened to coincide with Hardaway's first four years in the league, from 1993 through 1997. First of all, you must understand this: during that span, he was one of the five best players in the league. I will not argue about this.

Penny Hardaway, when young and healthy, was a bitch. He was completely impossible to guard. Taller than any point guard in the league, faster and more athletic than any two-guard, capable of playing the three when necessary. He was stunning. As good as Shaquille O'Neal was for Orlando during that stretch, it was Penny who truly thrilled the crowds. Off the charts. Unfortunately, we were cheated from seeing him through his full potential for two large and ugly reasons.

One, he was unbelievably thin-skinned. Penny had rabbit ears for criticism, real and imagined. I could offer some bleeding-heart analysis as to why this was true -- no male role models in his life, raised in poverty by his mom and grandmother in horrendous neighborhoods in Memphis -- but all I know for sure is, he internalized everything. When things didn't go his way, he brooded at an Olympic level. His well-publicized leadership of a palace coup in Orlando, the "team meeting" that led to Brian Hill's first firing from the Magic back in '97, was less a sign of any maliciousness on his part and more an indication of his fragile psyche. Brian Hill was an old-school, red-faced screamer, and Penny recoiled from that attention. He needed to be stroked, reminded that he was wonderful and beautiful. That didn't happen in Orlando.

And Two, his body failed him. Hardaway was never a weight-room guy, and by the time he reached his peak in the NBA, he was carrying a ton of tread wear. A lifetime of basketball combined with very little workout maintenance led to a physical breakdown. After enduring multiple surgeries on both knees, he was never the same player -- when your game is predicated on playing above the rim, and you're suddenly hopping at 75 percent of capacity, you've got to change or perish. He perished, professionally speaking. Pretty simple.

There's a chance, I suppose, that the time away from the game may have allowed Penny to heal up a little bit, and Pat Riley has already complimented his new signee for his willingness to get himself back into shape, but if the Heat expect Hardaway to be a standstill shooter, it's going to be a short comeback. Asking an innately physical player like Hardaway to suddenly "get it" at the age of 36 is a tall order. Still, I find myself rooting for Penny to make it with Miami.

When I left the Magic in 1997 to move to Connecticut as an anchor for ESPN, Penny Hardaway was one of only two Magic players who stopped me to say good luck and congrats -- the other, not surprisingly, was Darrell Armstrong. That stuck with me, obviously. I can't help but sympathize with Penny. If nothing else, it would be fascinating to see the Magic fans' response if and when Penny and Shaq return together to the building that once rocked to their beat, this time wearing the road colors of the Miami Heat.

As for the other news of the week -- my seven-year-old son, Zachary, watched the final round of the PGA Championship with me at home on Sunday. At one point, he asked me, as he is wont to do, who I was rooting for.

"I don't know," I said, "but Tiger Woods is the best professional athlete you will ever see in your lifetime. He does his job as well as anyone does any job in the world."

This may have escaped my son, but when I repeated this conversation to my father-in-law on the phone on Sunday night, he paused for a moment, and said,"Yeah...okay."

As in, yes, that is an acceptable and totally honest thing to tell the boy. What else can you explain to a kid? Tiger Woods will exceed Jack Nicklaus's record of 18 professional majors before my oldest child graduates from high school. Heck, he might get there before Zach leaves the 8th grade. I just hope he (Zach) grows to appreciate the golden age in which he lives.

Last point before I start worrying about college football in earnest: while I would love to expound upon the Magic's decision to abandon their over-the-air broadcasts in favor of an expanded agreement with Sun Sports and FSN Florida, I will not, because the negotiations with Bright House Networks in Orlando are ongoing and I'm pretty good at knowing when to keep my mouth shut. Suffice it to say that as a paying cable subscriber in Central Florida, I'm voting for Bright House to add FSN Florida to its basic cable lineup.

But a tip of the cap to the in-house broadcast department at the Orlando Magic -- my former co-workers -- who have put in heroic efforts, under less than ideal circumstances, over the last 15-plus years to produce games on local TV in Orlando. While the knee-jerk reaction is to assume that the Magic are simply chasing the money via increased rights fees from Sun Sports/FSN Florida, it was a far more difficult and complicated decision than that, one that directly affects the lives and careers of several people in the Magic broadcast department that I consider friends. This is their livelihood, and their passion, and I want them to know that I appreciate their efforts.

With luck and skillful negotiations, we'll all be watching Magic games -- all of them -- on basic cable this season. In the meantime, if you're a Magic viewer from way back, take a moment to think about the games you watched on WRBW-65 (or, going even deeper, on WKCF-18) and join me in saying "thank you" to the Magic employees responsible for getting those games on the air. "Thank-you's" last a long time, as I may have mentioned.

That's it. First preseason college football special is taped on Monday afternoon. See you on TV.