Don't Hate The Player, Hate The Game

"The reasonable criticism [of sports blogs] is of the tone of gratuitous potshots and mean-spirited abuse."

So sayeth Bob Costas, and so it shall be done. Wait, was that mean-spirited?

If you haven't watched it yet, the recent episode of 'Costas Now' that focused on the blogosphere is worth a few minutes. Specifically -- and this is the part that everyone is talking about -- you need to watch the exchange between Will Leitch of Deadspin and Buzz Bissinger, author of 'Friday Night Lights.'

Bissinger, who attended Penn and Harvard and therefore immediately earns my distrust (I went to Cornell, and yes, that was a gratuitous potshot), leaps off the top rope immediately and never stops swinging. Draw your own conclusions from the video, but I liked what Jerry Greene wrote in the Orlando Sentinel this weekend:

"Buzz committed virtual hari-kari -- and took with him everyone that has problems with the excessive and worthless nature of the worst of blogging. Wrote Leitch almost immediately afterward on Deadspin: "We just watched a man immolate on national television. To have piled on the carnage would have been discourteous."

Buzz later admitted he "subsumed the valid points" he was trying to make."

Immolate: to kill as a sacrifice; to kill (oneself) by fire; to destroy.

Subsume: to consider or include (an idea, term, proposition, etc.) as part of a more comprehensive one; to bring (a case, instance, etc.) under a rule; to take up into a more inclusive classification.

The first one I get; Bissinger went down in flames. I drew the same conclusion.

The second one took me a moment, but I believe that Bissinger is admitting that his naive hyperfocus on one small aspect of the Deadspin blog -- the admittedly snarky comments from readers -- crippled his ability to objectively criticize the concept of blogging.

Leading off his counter-argument with "I think you're full of s**t" didn't help much.

What did this exchange accomplish? Let's take me as one example.

First, I read Deadspin for the first time, and thought it was pretty damn funny.

Second, I continued my long and proud tradition of never watching a single episode of 'Friday Night Lights' on TV -- only now I have the added benefit of believing the show's creator to be cranky, arrogant, hopelessly out of touch, and generally despicable. Which, I predict, will not compel me to change my mind about the TV show or rush out to buy one of Bissinger's many other works.

Nice work, Buzz! And it only took you 10 minutes!

What he did, of course, was completely and totally legitimize Will Leitch, Deadspin, and by extension, every other blog out there that attempts to accurately capture the attitude of the fan. He accomplished this by hating them.

Not 'hating on them,' playa, but simply 'hating them.' Because, Grasshopper, the opposite of love is not hate. The opposite of love is indifference.

If one truly considers something completely devoid of any lovable characteristics, one simply doesn't give a crap and ignores said thing. If, however, one recognizes this nebulous 'thing' as a threat -- if one views the 'thing' as potentially dangerous, and therefore worthy of concern and respect, even as a target -- then one chooses to expend energy on this 'thing.' And that energy, class, is hate.

You have to care about something to hate it. Bissinger cares about blogs, because they are (in his mind) a threat to traditional media, an affront to true journalists like himself who attended Phillips Andover and wrote a book about high school football in Texas that got so many people so pissed off that he was unable to set foot in Odessa for several years. That, you see, is REAL writing. Simply pissing off the guy who went to Andover doesn't count, I guess. Anyway, he hates the blogs. Which means he feels threatened by them.

Should he be?

Yeah, probably. You'll read this one hundred times in the aftermath of the Leitch visit to Costas Now -- if you haven't already in the aftermath of Costas himself making that galactically stupid 'high-tech place for idiots' comment several weeks earlier -- but the upshot is this:

The whole blog thing? It's not going away. That horse, as I have written before, is well out of the barn. Those who 'get it' will be those who ride the wave, as most major newspapers around the country already understand. Those who don't get it will be those who feel threatened by it, those who, to be frank, are pissed off that their own hard work, education, and experience counts for nothing in the court of public opinion.

Because isn't that what this really comes down to? People like Bissinger are appalled at the mere suggestion that some schmoe who didn't go to Andover, Penn, and Harvard could actually produce something in print that could rival the great classically-trained sportswriters of our time. No, wait -- what he's really tweaked about is that more people might choose to read it.

It's the ultimate exercise in free press, this blog thing. You read what you find entertaining, not what you're told is "great writing." That scares the living you-know-what out of people like Bissinger and Costas, who admittedly worked very, very hard to get where they are today. But they're finding that reputation and resume' only counts for so much.

So in the absence of career-threatening tirades on television, what should they be doing?

Like we used to say in the gym -- if you don't like my trash-talking, beat me.

Work harder, Buzz. If the blogospheric (loving that word right now) audience is so important to you, as it appears to be, then show us something. Be more entertaining than Deadspin. Be funnier than Every Day Should Be Saturday. Be sharper than Bill Simmons. Go ahead, do it. Do it, and we'll read your stuff.

You CAN do that, can't you?

Spreadin' The News

So yeah, did the New York thing this weekend.

A two-night, three-day mini-vacation of sorts in Manhattan with kids in tow. I've covered events in New York before, but never taken the whole gang down the tourist path in the city. We met up with my wife's parents at the Yale Club, midtown, across the street from Grand Central Station, which is an exceptional base of operations if one wants to see the sights. You can get anywhere from there, and we did -- the American Museum of Natural History, Central Park, Times Square, you name it. It's refreshing to travel with kids sometimes, if only to witness the wonder of seemingly banal endeavors, like taking a taxi or riding the subway. My 8-year-old son loved it; there was lots of information to process, which is right up his alley. By the end of the weekend, he pretty much had the subway lines memorized. The four-year old found her personal Nirvana at the American Girl Place on Fifth Avenue, which, for those of you without female children of a certain age, is "Cabbage Patch Kids" for the next generation. Our newest "kid" is named Lacey, she looks remarkably like my daughter, and she has lots of expensive clothes to wear courtesy of my father-in-law (not unlike my daughter herself). Given the great distances we had to walk every day and the fine layer of grime that covers one's skin after a full day in the city, my kids were troopers, so much so that my wife and I were willing to overlook the fact that both of them threw up during the bumpy flight back to Orlando. Ahh, parenthood.

Of course, in the media capital of the world, you're never out of touch, and so it came to pass that I watched the NCAA men's semifinals from the Grill Room of the Yale Club on Saturday night. While Memphis and Kansas were clearly the better teams on that night, the TV guy in me couldn't help but chuckle at what I know are pained grimaces on the faces of CBS executives at the moment -- Memphis-Kansas, while interesting, cannot hold a candle to North Carolina-UCLA in terms of grabbing the Middle Ground. Similarly, when Stanford beat UConn in the women's semifinals, denying us another round of Auriemma vs. Summitt in a championship game, my former colleagues in Bristol must have been punching figurative holes in figurative walls -- a sound perhaps matched by the good people at the Tampa Bay Sports Commission, the hosts of the 2008 Women's Final Four.

Shannon Owens writes in Monday's Orlando Sentinel that Stanford's win over Connecticut provides "indisputable confirmation the women's game is not confined to the Big East, ACC, and SEC." She's right, but that won't do much for the ratings on Tuesday night, which will pale in comparison to what Tennessee-UConn would have drawn. Given that women's college basketball, financially, has been a losing proposition in the modern era -- $169 million in the red for the 2005-2006 season alone, according to the U.S. Department of Education -- the prospect of getting drilled in the Tuesday night ratings by the likes of "American Idol" is precisely what the women's game doesn't need.

That same Department of Education report tells us that men's college basketball recorded a $240 million profit during that same '05-'06 season, "largely on two things the women still lack: a lucrative TV package and strong attendance." As I've written in this space before, television is reactive, not proactive; TV deals happen AFTER the consumer shows interest in a given sport, not before. For examples, see poker, NASCAR, mixed martial arts, or anything else that has blown up in the last ten years. Television did not and cannot create interest in these sports; it merely reflects it. One way to measure interest is through attendance -- an area where, as the article above correctly summarizes, the women's game suffers tremendously.

If the 330 NCAA institutions that offer women's basketball were reporting jam-packed arenas night after night, the 'lucrative TV package' would surely follow. That's how our business works. I can remember working the desk at ESPNEWS a few years ago and hearing a rival women's basketball coach lamenting the fact that UConn received such tremendous national attention "because they're in ESPN's backyard."

Umm, no. ESPN only got on board after Connecticut starting winning like crazy, and after the locals in Storrs started packing the rafters. Same thing in Knoxville, by the way. That same principle, in reverse, is also why the NHL has failed as a national television sport -- while hockey holds on to passionate fan bases in certain local markets, it doesn't resonate at a national or even regional level. TV cannot change that, no matter how hard the game is promoted.

Reactive, not proactive. Remember that.

As an aside, I like the women's game just fine, for a simple and selfish reason: the pace of the game is a half-beat slower than the men's, which makes it much easier to call as a play-by-play announcer. Having broadcast dozens of high school and college women's basketball games on Sun Sports and FSN Florida, I speak from experience. Time exists to set up storylines, give background on certain players, and break down the X's and O's -- much more so than with the men, high school or college. Of course, I recognize that this does nothing for most casual viewers, who would rather see end-to-end action than a well-executed back-door cut. Another reason why the men's game outpaces the women's game as a TV sport.

And speaking of basketball, and New York: tip of the cap to Magic assistant coach Patrick Ewing and Heat head coach Pat Riley, two members of the 2008 class in the Basketball Hall of Fame. No arguments here. The list of names that didn't make it, including Chris Mullin, Dennis Johnson, and Don Nelson, probably deserve a new blog entry, but for now, credit where credit is due. Ewing and Riley, along with Hakeem Olajuwon, all made it in their first year of eligibility, as they should. Fitting honors for careers that truly match the definition of "Hall of Famer."

Now, Dick Vitale? We'll save that for another day.

Trucks And Trends

Anybody notice that Saturday's Geico Gator Postgame show on Sun Sports was upside down?

No? Good.

Here's today's lesson in Television Production 101: It's Not Too Late To Choose Law School (4 credits).

Sun Sports has been producing Florida and Florida State football games for Sunday replay for many years now, going back to the days of "Sunshine Network" (and on that note -- it's been almost four years now, people. Can we please retire the phrase "Sunshine Network" forever?). The FSU games, titled "Prime Time Noles," with the original broadcast team of Paul Kennedy and Keith Jones, go back 20 years; the Florida replays, branded as "Breakfast With The Gators," started in 1996.

In order to produce these games for replay, Sun Sports rolls out a full-sized 18-wheel TV production truck to every FSU and UF football game, home and away. These are the very same behemoths that bring you every sporting event you've ever seen on television. Each truck contains all of the computers, monitors, cables, cameras, and various and sundry other pieces of hardware necessary to produce an event for live (or, in our case, taped) television.

However, most of these production trucks do not contain the hardware necessary to uplink the game to a satellite, which is how it gets beamed down to your local cable company and thereby into your home. For that, we have to bring in a second, smaller satellite truck, which parks close enough to the production truck so that cables can be run from one to the other. If those two trucks cannot get close enough to each other to hook up, the game can be produced, but it cannot be transmitted live.

Thus, truck parking is a very big deal. If the "cable run" is too long between the two trucks -- or between the stadium itself and any of the trucks -- we've got issues. Which was the case in Columbia, South Carolina this weekend.

It seems that our friends at The Four Letters had bogarted all the prime parking spots around Williams-Brice Stadium, so much so that Sun Sports was struggling to find room for our satellite truck to get close enough to our production truck. In the days leading up to the Florida-South Carolina game, a flurry of phone calls and urgent messages failed to resolve the situation (and from what I hear, we were actively seeking help from UF and/or the Southeastern Conference itself to get ourselves some space). Once it became apparent that the Worldwide Leader wasn't budging, literally or figuratively, we had to get creative.

So we parked our satellite truck across the street from the stadium. While this was too far to run cables to our production truck, it was not too far to run, literally -- which is what some poor kid had to do all day on Saturday.

We actually hired a "runner" -- new meaning to that term, no? -- whose job it was to sprint tapes across the street to the satellite truck to be fed to us in the studio. Hence, every shot you saw during the pregame and postgame coverage from South Carolina on Saturday, from the tailgating shots to Urban Meyer's press conference to the player interviews, was taped, not live. Which is why the postgame show appeared "upside down," with said press conference and player interviews coming in the second half-hour of our postgame show, instead of coming closer to the top of the show, as we usually do it. Simply put, it took a few minutes for the kid to run each tape across the street.

Ah, the magic of television. As we like to say, "America will never know." Unless I choose to blog about it.

Speaking of which, I received an e-mail from an avid viewer/reader named Seth who disagreed with Brady's contention that Florida State and Miami have killed the Big Five. Felt bad about this, a little, only because Brady made the comment off-air, and I used it for blog fodder (note to my co-workers: EVERYTHING is blog fodder. If you don't mean it, don't let me hear it).

Anyway, Seth points out that Florida State's stumble at Virginia Tech can be directly traced to a rookie QB with 70 percent of the playbook replacing the concussed Drew Weatherford (true), a rash of injuries to key guys like Antone Smith, Tony Carter, and Toddrick Verdell (also true), and some bad calls by the refs (umm, okay).

Seth also defends Miami as a team in transition with a new coaching staff and a "culture shock" of newly-installed disciplinary requirements. He also goes after Florida as not exactly helping the "Big Five" with three conference losses on the heels of a national championship. I'm pretty much cool with all that.

However, one weekend, or one season, does not define a program. Instead, you have to look at the long-term trend, and in that light, I consider Brady's offhand comment to be rather profound, actually (don't tell him I said that).

Florida State, as I have written before, has been in steady decline since 2000, when the Seminoles finished the season with the top-ranked offense in Division I football at 549 yards per game. Offensive coordinator Mark Richt left Tallahassee after that season to take over as the head coach at Georgia; the FSU offense has dropped in NCAA ranking ever since, settling in at 78th in the country as of this writing. I single out offensive ranking because it's the most linear example of Florida State's fortunes -- if you prefer to go by wins, the Seminoles won only 7 games last year (their first 7-win season since 1986) and have recorded exactly one 10-win season since Richt left, which is stunning for a team that reached double digits in victories every year from 1987 through 2000.

Of course, there's a new staff in Tallahassee this year, and a new system, so an adjustment period is to be expected -- but the fact remains nonetheless that Florida State, with a 6-4 record and road games coming up at Maryland and Florida, is merely continuing a 7-year trend.

Similarly, Miami's 2007 season is not a one-time thing, either. Starting with the 2003 season (the year after the Hurricanes were robbed of a second straight national championship by an atrociously timed pass interference call in the 4th quarter of the Fiesta Bowl against Ohio State), the Hurricanes have slowly slipped into mediocrity. They won 11 games in '03, nine games in '04 and '05, seven games in '06, and just five games this year -- and with road games coming up against Virginia Tech and Boston College, it will take a mighty effort to get to six.

Point being, if the Big Five is really dead, it didn't happen overnight. I'm even willing to grant the point that Florida is at least partially culpable for this demise, as the Gators, who recorded nine 10-win seasons from 1991 through 2001, retreated to 8-5, 8-5, 7-5, and 9-3 before last year's national championship.

However, if we agree with Seth and declare the Big Five (or the Big Three, which is really his point) to be alive and kicking, we're doing so based on perception, tradition, and history, and not so much on "right now." Over the six seasons from 2001 through 2006, Miami was 6th in the country in winning percentage at 80.0%. Florida was 14th at 72.3%, and Florida State was 22nd at 66.2%.

But what if you shorten that range to four seasons, from 2003 through 2006? Florida drops to 16th in winning percentage at 72.5%. Miami goes down to 17th, at 72.0%. And Florida State drops to 23rd, at 66.6%.

Interesting to note that the winning percentages themselves don't change that much for the Big Three, but their ranking compared to other D-I programs drops -- which means that even though the Big Three aren't exactly going into the tank, other programs around the country are winning at higher clips over the last four seasons. Everyone else is getting better at a faster rate, which is one of the principal tenets of "parity" in college football.

Of course, South Florida, with its historic three-game Big East losing streak, dropped itself from BCS contention into conference also-ran, rendering my invite into a "Big Four" rather tenuous, and pretty much throwing a wrench into any Big Five, for now. Luckily, we still have UCF, which controls its own destiny as a division leader in Conference USA, and has a running back in Kevin Smith who is unquestionably the best at his position in the state, and one of the best in the nation. Should the Knights hang on to win their conference, the conversation can begin again.

By the way, Florida Atlantic is one game out of first in the Sun Belt right now, with a non-conference game at Florida this week followed by road games at winless Florida International and a season finale showdown with league leader Troy. Raise your hand if you thought at the beginning of this season that UCF and FAU would have the best chances of winning their respective conferences by the time we got to mid-November. Of note, those two teams were a combined 9-15 last season.

Welcome to the Bizarro World of college football in which we now live.

Big What?

Regarding the much-ballyhooed (by me) "Big Five" Theory:

Brady Ackerman had the best line of the year as we sat on the Sun Sports studio set late on Saturday night, digesting Miami's humiliating loss to Virginia in the Hurricanes' final game at the Orange Bowl and Florida State's first loss to Virginia Tech in the Bobby Bowden era:

"The Big Five is dead. Not because of anything UCF or South Florida did, but because Miami and Florida State killed it."

And really, there's nothing left to add.

Until tomorrow, that is.

Bullletin Board Material

Just curious: does anyone actually post anything on a bulletin board anymore?

We sportscasters are not allowed to earn our earpieces until we master the "bulletin board material" cliche'. You know the drill: Mouthy Superstar or Arrogant Head Coach flippantly offers a comment questioning the skills/talent/intelligence/legitimacy/masculinity of an upcoming opponent, and the talking head says, "...and THAT'LL be bulletin board material for the Rhein Fire this weekend!"

(And yes, I'm using an NFL Europe reference. Double bonus points for me.)

We have at least one piece of hard evidence of the Bulletin Board Material Theory from this college football season, as South Florida head coach Jim Leavitt apparently used a photo of Orlando Sentinel columnist David Whitley "riding" the USF Bull mascot as a rallying point for his squad shortly before they pulverized UCF.

You can read David's column to get the whole story, but to summarize: he wasn't knocking USF, per se. He was attempting to do something stupid in order to generate a reaction, which would make for a nice column. And by the way, it worked.

On the topic of David's employer, the Orlando Sentinel -- once, more than a decade ago, I watched an argument in the Orlando Magic locker room between Sentinel writer Brian Schmitz -- who still covers the team for the newspaper -- and then-power forward Jeff Turner. At the time, I was a broadcasting intern for the Magic, and I already knew Jeff to be a regular guy -- patient, accommodating, friendly to a fault. He's the kind of person who might coach your kids, or maybe live down the street from you. Come to think of it, he does coach kids, and he does live down the street from me.

Probably why I made that analogy.

Anyway, as I remember this scene, Jeff, who never yells at anything, was absolutely letting Brian have it over something Brian had written in his column that Jeff considered "motivational" for that night's opponent -- in other words, Bulletin Board Material. Jeff's argument was that the hometown newspaper should never print anything that an opponent could use to fire themselves up; Brian countered by defending his column as accurate and neutral, and found Jeff's position to be weak.

Hate to overdo this, but Jeff Turner really never gets mad, and he really was mad that night, and...man, you had to be there.

Point being, there's considerable anecdotal evidence for the Bulletin Board Material Theory, at least, in my career. I bring this up because, with the NBA season fast approaching, our Florida teams (and Sun Sports/FSN Florida partners) already have some material to clip and save.

Sports Illustrated has published its annual NBA season preview, and their experts have picked the Orlando Magic to miss the playoffs and finish 10th in the Eastern Conference. From the "Enemy Lines" section, wherein an opposing team's scout anonymously breaks down the Magic, there's this little nugget:

"I think they can be a better team, but I doubt that their record will be better because of the losses of those three guys [Grant Hill, Darko Milicic and Tony Battie]. I think it will be a good year if they can reach .500 without the leadership of Hill in the locker room and on the court, though they may be able to help themselves by acquiring an extra guy for the frontcourt..."

A "good year if they can reach .500"? Congratulations, Coach Van Gundy, you've just been handed some Bulletin Board Material.

What does SI have to say about the Miami Heat? The mag has them 4th in the East, and winning the Southeast Division. Again, from the "Enemy Lines":

"The big questions with Miami are going to involve injuries, age and chemistry. Those are three huge issues. Dwyane Wade is going to miss the start of the season while recovering from shoulder surgery. They're not going to win many games while he's out...Shaq will be 36 in March. He's on the downslide, and he's injury-prone...He's still the most dominant big man in the game, but I'm not sure he has enough around him...Overall, they'll have to do their best to hold on until Wade can come back in late November, which means riding Shaq without wearing him out. If they can stay competitive in the first part of the season, then they'll have a chance, but there will still be a lot of other issues for them to get through."

Ummm...and which part of this, exactly, compelled the SI writers to pick Miami to win its division and get home court in the first round? Did they choose to ignore this scout's perspective, or do they simply disagree with it?

Either way, The Diesel has just been handed Bulletin Board Material. And he's the kind of guy who eats that stuff up. Worth watching.

ESPN.com takes a different approach to its preseason previews, taking a poll of various NBA writers and columnists and presenting an "average" predicted finish, something akin to a college football poll. I tend to value this style a little more, for two reasons: first, it's a consensus of at least ten different writers, all of whom have different backgrounds, predilections, and fields of expertise. Logic would dictate that the results are more balanced. Second, each writer actually signs his or her name to the prediction, as opposed to SI's "anonymous" opposing scout. Accountability never hurts.

So where do ESPN's ten experts place the Magic? Five of them have Orlando winning the Southeast Division, four of them have the Magic finishing second, and Chris Sheridan says Orlando is a fourth-place team. Sheridan has the Magic 12th (!) in the Eastern Conference, while every other expert places them in the playoffs. ESPN's average predicted finish for the Magic in the Southeast Division is 1.7; the team's average predicted finish in the conference is 6.3.

Miami's scorecard: only one expert, J.A. Adande, picks them to win the Southeast, although nobody else on the board has the Heat lower than third. But here's the really interesting part: half of the expert panel, a full five out of ten members, picked Miami to miss the Eastern Conference playoffs entirely. ESPN's average finish for Miami in the Southeast is 2.4; in the conference, it's 7.8.

Voila, Pat Riley: Bulletin Board Material. Truthfully, this is probably more a statement about the perceived weakness of the Southeast Division than it is any endorsement of the Magic or the Heat, but it's an interesting disparity nonetheless.

For the sake of argument, the "Power Rankings" at CBS Sportsline have Miami and Orlando smack in the middle of the league at 14th and 15th, respectively. In the one NBA preseason poll that I never fail to read, the General Manager's Survey conducted by the league itself, both Miami and Orlando received votes as potential Eastern Conference champions and NBA champions (a serious stretch, in my view). Miami received 40.7% of the GM vote as predicted Southeast Division winners, while Orlando was close behind at 37%.

Not much Bulletin Board Material there. "We think you're gonna be okay" doesn't qualify as fightin' words.

So here's my quick take on Florida's two NBA franchises: in the early-season absence of Dwyane Wade, Miami will indeed struggle. Riles will whip them into something at or above .500, but they won't be blowing anybody's doors off. The over/under on Shaq's first five-game absence with a nagging injury is December 15th. Behind those two players, the Heat roster is thin -- Alonzo Mourning will again be called upon to play twice as many minutes as he should at this stage of his career, and there's a hard ceiling as to what you're going to get out of Ricky Davis, Smush Parker, and Jason Williams. But when those two players, O'Neal and Wade, are healthy, Miami can contend in the Southeast Division.

Orlando is more of a mystery. Dwight Howard will be a monster. Rashard Lewis will be consistent as a scorer for as long as he can stay healthy. The Magic are loaded with quality NBA players in the backcourt, with Jameer Nelson, Carlos Arroyo, Keyon Dooling, and yes, JJ Redick, who I think will play a much larger role this season. Where Orlando suffers is up front -- Lewis, Hedo Turkoglu, Trevor Ariza, and even Pat Garrity can all bring offensive skills, but they'll all be forced to play out of position and guard bigger players. It would really help Stan Van Gundy's cause tremendously if it turns out that Marcin Gortat and/or James Augustine can play a lick, as that would take some minutes and pressure away from Howard and Adonal Foyle. I tend to agree with the Enemy Lines notion that Orlando needs at least one more big body.

Yet, as I look at the Southeast Division, the only team other than Miami or Orlando that can contend is Washington, which is a fun team to watch, but even thinner in the frontcourt than Orlando. The division will come down to the Wizards and Magic, with their free-for-all offenses and deep backcourts, against Miami, with the teetering health of Shaq and the MVP potential of Wade. Because of the presence of Dwight Howard, however, I have to give the Magic an early edge.

Hope that doesn't make anybody's bulletin board.

Help Wanted

Had a great blog entry planned out this week.

After beating 5th-ranked West Virginia on Friday night in Tampa, the University of South Florida has reached a dizzying pinnacle: 6th in the AP poll, 9th among the coaches. It's the fastest climb from entry into Division I football to the top-10 in the modern era of college football. USF's transitional season into D-I was six short years ago.

I was trying to come up with an analogy that would clearly explain how ridiculously fast USF's ascent has been. Was it Percy Harvin fast? 'Mike Bianchi heading for a free media buffet' fast? 'Whit Watson leaving the golf course after a double on 18' fast?

In all cases, we're talking breathtaking speed. But that didn't quite capture it.

Then, as I pored over South Florida's athletic website, it hit me: the Bulls have made the jump to lightspeed. May the Big Five be with you.




Spooky, no?

However, that entry has been shelved in favor of this one: I'm officially hanging out the "Help Wanted" sign at Sun Sports. Understand that I have absolutely no authority to do this whatsoever, as I do not hire or fire anyone here. Furthermore, we're not really hiring, as far as I know. But seeing as how I have already decreed both a Big Five and a Big Four and nobody has stopped me yet, I figured, what the heck.

First rule of being a sports journalist: beg forgiveness, not permission.

As soon as I posted the "Big Four" blog, wherein USF was welcomed to the big time by the Committee (me) by virtue of their win over Auburn, a Bulls fan in Arizona posted a reply asking me this:

"If USF has a seat at the table in the Big 4, when will you give USF a studio seat, aka Floyd, Walsh and Doering? Maybe it's time to consider a USF personality if USF really is in the club or as high as #2 in the state as many of you say."

Over the last few weeks, I've received several e-mails from Bulls fans asking the same question. Just this week, there was this thread on TheBullsPen.com, a USF fan site, wherein South Florida fans began exchanging suggestions for a former Bull who might fit the bill as a panelist on "Tailgate Overtime." I also did a live chat on SunSportsTV.com on Monday night after "TGOT," something we call the After Party, and was hit with yet another request to get USF representation on our shows next to the "Big Three" of Miami's Steve Walsh, FSU's William Floyd, and Florida's Chris Doering.

As I e-mailed one of these many correspondents a few weeks back -- this smells like a conspiracy. A concerted effort, if you will. But so what? They have a point.

Thus, the "Help Wanted" sign.

Here's the criteria, as I wrote during the chat: the ideal candidate will be a former USF football player who is instantly recognizable to even a casual college football fan. NFL experience is preferred, but not required. The candidate should be media-savvy, able to express his point clearly and energetically, avoiding the "deer-in-headlights" look at all times (although we occasionally relax this rule for Bianchi. Ba-dum-ching!) Previous on-air experience is a big plus.

The ideal candidate must also be available for 20 episodes of "Tailgate Overtime" from late August through National Signing Day in February. The show is live every Monday night at 7pm, shot at a studio in Orlando, Florida. There's compensation, but not enough to live on -- everyone on that show, including Walsh, Floyd, Doering, Bianchi, and national sports radio host Todd Wright -- has a day job.

Except me, of course. This IS my day job. And night job, and weekend job. Never mind. That's the criteria.

The intriguing challenge to this, of course, is the fact that USF has become big time almost too quickly. With only ten years of football history to go on -- and just over half of that time spent as a full-fledged D-I program -- it's not like there's dozens of former star players wandering the streets of Tampa. As one message board poster pointed out, correctly, most of USF's best football players are either still in school, playing in the NFL, or hanging around trying to retain a roster spot with some pro team somewhere. When it comes to finding a former player with the cache' of a Walsh, Floyd, or Doering -- three guys with national and conference championship rings, NFL service, and in Bar None's case, a Super Bowl trophy -- USF's short history is a hurdle.

Of course, this could get out of hand quickly. What if UCF beats South Florida in two weeks and enters the polls? Will Alex Haynes be calling me? Daunte Culpepper? Asante Samuel? And what about Florida Atlantic? They've got the Bulls this week -- if they pull off the upset, will Jared Allen's people be in touch?

We'll jump off that bridge when we come to it. After all, there's room at the table for everybody, literally and figuratively. Mostly figuratively.

Bull Run

Here's all you need to know about what South Florida's defense did to West Virginia on Friday night: Dick Vitale.

By the second quarter of the game, ESPN2's cameras were turned to Dickie V in the Raymond James Stadium club seats. With very little prompting, Vitale donned a headset and spoke at length with play-by-play man Sean McDonough about USF, life in west Florida (Vitale lives in Sarasota), the Devil Rays, and whatever else Dickie V could think of. This was during play, mind you.

Still in the first half, McDonough offered a lengthy background on USF linebacker Ben Moffitt, who is married with two kids and commutes 45 minutes each way to school and practice. Again, this story came to us during the game.

(McDonough's best line of the night, uttered upon seeing Vitale's presumably long-suffering bride sitting next to Dickie V: "There's Mrs. Vitale to Dick's right, still waiting to speak her first words." Perfect.)

Let me offer you this nugget about how sports are produced on television: when the crew starts going to interviews in the stands and lengthy biographical sketches of players, they ain't doing that to "enhance the broadcast."

They do that when the game is a dud, or a blowout. USF fans should take this as a compliment.

The final stats on Friday night don't reflect it, but South Florida's defense was absolutely stifling. West Virginia, a team ranked 2nd in the nation in rushing coming in, managed 188 yards on the ground -- 169 yards below its average.

I said it on Rec Warehouse College Kickoff, and I'll say it again: USF's defense on Friday night was as good as I've seen anybody play all year. Period.

Big Four, Big Five, whatever. That's a win over Auburn and West Virginia in the same season for a program that's barely ten years old.

South Florida is hereby legit.

Welcome To The Party

On behalf of the Committee -- which is pretty much just me -- it is my pleasure to welcome the University of South Florida's football program into the Big Four.

Granted, we were banking on a Big Five. That day may still come. The University of Central Florida -- aptly located in Orlando, which is indeed central Florida, as opposed to USF, which is in Tampa, and could therefore never be confused with "south Florida" -- was and remains the final piece of this theoretical puzzle. UCF, despite its inexplicable step backwards last season after a bowl trip two years ago, remains alive in this race for a Big Five thanks to a season-opening win over North Carolina State on the road. But UCF didn't beat Auburn.

USF did.

Not only did USF beat Auburn, the Bulls did it on the road, at night, on national freaking television, in overtime. They preceded this win with a victory over West Virginia last year, and with a win over Louisville the year before. You're in. The Committee is mildly concerned about the fact that USF has never won its own conference title, but then The Committee realized that Miami has never won the ACC, either. For that matter, the Hurricanes have failed to reach the ACC Championship Game thus far, which places them one step behind UCF in that regard. The Knights at least played for the Conference USA title two years ago.

But never mind that. We're talking about the University of South Florida, the one in Tampa. The newest member of the Big Four.

Look, Miami just got smoked by Oklahoma. Florida State had to dig deep to beat the University of Alabama at Birmingham. Florida -- Florida, for gawdsake -- gave up 17 unanswered in the third quarter against Troy at the Swamp. The bottom line is the bottom line.

Is there any team in the state of Florida not currently considered a "Big" program that has a better claim to membership than USF?

Enough already. The past is history. Don't bore me with tales of how great you used to be -- tell me instead what you have done for me lately. South Florida just beat Auburn. Anybody else got anything better than that?

Didn't think so.

Welcome to the party, Coach Jim Leavitt. You deserve it. You've been wooed by Lord knows how many elite programs over the last few years -- Alabama and Kansas State among them, if we are to believe the message boards -- and yet, you stayed. You had a vision, or at least, a feeling. You figured that something special might be brewing at this commuter school in a top-10 media market, the one that some of its own alumni refer to as "Drive-Thru U." You stayed in Tampa, because you grew up in Tampa, and because you saw the value in being a big fish in an untapped pond, one with over 34,000 undergrads and over 200,000 alumni living in all 50 states.

You saw an opportunity to play in an NFL stadium, something that never hurt Southern Cal back when Los Angeles still had pro football, something that mighty Miami will try next year in lieu of the decrepit Orange Bowl. You knew you had a rich vein of Florida high school talent from which to draw, and you carpe'd that diem to the tune of a staggering 90 players, walk-on and scholarship, from right here in the Sunshine State. You recognized the commitment from your university, the often politically incorrect willingness to raise money and cheerlead and build facilities and retain staff, the drive among your employers to make USF -- USF, for gawdsake -- into a legitimate football contender. So you stayed.

For over ten years, you stayed. The first football coach in USF history, and the only football coach in USF history. You came to USF the same year that Alvin Wyatt returned to coach at his alma mater, Bethune-Cookman. Together, you two are the second-longest tenured head football coaches at Florida schools.

Number one? Bobby Bowden, of course. He's got a statue on the outside of Doak S. Campbell Stadium, and a field named for him on the inside. When you get to 32 years, Coach Leavitt, you should expect the same treatment.

We'll worry about that when we get there.

For now, welcome to the party. If any of those Gators, Seminoles, or Hurricanes give you any guff about including your program in the Big Four, point to the scoreboard. In the case of Miami, you've got them on your schedule for five years starting in '09, so there's your chance to take care of business directly. You're also playing Florida in 2010 and 2015. In the meantime, a Big East title, and the BCS bowl berth that follows, would make an even more compelling argument in your favor.

And for those UCF Knights that wish to make it a true "Big Five" -- well, The Committee will be happy to process your application this Saturday night, provided you open your new on-campus stadium appropriately. Yeah, I know, it's Texas. But it can be done.

You don't have to go very far to find the proof. About 90 miles west, in fact.

Et Tu, FSU?

The Florida State Seminoles are now 7-7 over their last 14 games.

Take a moment and digest that.

From last season through the Clemson game this Labor Day, Florida State -- a program that has been bowl-eligible for 25 years running, a team that was ranked no lower than 4th in the nation in the final AP poll in any season between 1990 and 1999 -- is a .500 team. Counting the Clemson game, the Seminoles have lost 5 of their last 8.

Their last 1,000-yard running back was Warrick Dunn in 1996 (and he did it three years in a row). Their last 1,000-yard receiver was Anquan Boldin in 2002. The last time a Florida State quarterback passed for 20 touchdowns or more was 2003, when the much-maligned Chris Rix hit for 23. Defensively, none of the Seminoles' all-time leaders in interceptions played more recently than 1997 (Samari Rolle, 12, tied for 6th). Among their all-time sack leaders, none played more recently than 2002.

Just what in the name of Ron Sellers, Deion Sanders, LeRoy Butler, Marvin "Shade Tree" Jones, Charlie Ward, Terrell Buckley, Derrick Brooks, Corey Sawyer, Peter Boulware, Peter Warrick, Marvin "Snoop" Minnis, Amp Lee, Casey Weldon, Chris Weinke, and Xavier freakin' Beitia is going on here?

If you live in Florida, you may think you know the Seminoles, but just for fun, go read up on them. Go peruse the list of players who have been honored in some fashion for their stellar play. Every name in the paragraph above was an All-American -- first team, second team, third team, or honorable mention -- on somebody's list.

Heck, you could start a pretty good all-star squad just with former Seminoles that have been featured in interviews on Sun Sports. Danny McManus would be the quarterback (from "Gridiron Greats"), William Floyd ("Tailgate Overtime") would throw blocks for Sammie Smith ("In My Own Words"), and LeRoy Butler (IMOW) would be the co-captain of the defense alongside Derrick Brooks (IMOW). And we haven't even touched the NFL yet, where 52 former Seminoles currently occupy roster spots, and we haven't mentioned Bobby Bowden, the winningest coach in major college football history.

So what's up with 7-7?

One season cannot measure a team, and neither can one game, no matter how bad FSU looked in the first half against Clemson. The Tigers brought two of the best running backs in the country into a Death Valley home game against a brand-new offense under a completely revamped coaching staff. Give the 'Noles a pass on Monday.

Instead, what matters is the whole picture. You have to step back and look at it from a distance, as Sgt. Jeff Rabin unwittingly suggests to US Customs agent Dave Kujan in "Usual Suspects." Only then, with the advantage of perspective, do the seemingly disparate pieces fall into place. Only then does the Kobayashi porcelain mug shatter on the floor, exposing the previous two hours -- or, in the case of Florida State, the previous five years -- for what it is.

Maybe Florida State just isn't that good anymore. Or maybe -- and this is my stance -- everybody else just got better, faster.

My main man Mike Bianchi of the Orlando Sentinel loves to point out that during Jeff Bowden's first five seasons as Florida State's offensive coordinator, the Seminoles dropped steadily in total offense each season. Here are the numbers he cites:

2000 (Mark Richt's final year as OC before leaving for Georgia): 549 yards per game, #1 in D-I football
2001 (Jeff Bowden's first season): 426 ypg, 26th
2002: 398 ypg, 32nd
2003: 402 ypg, 37th
2004: 372 ypg, 61st
2005: 376 ypg, 59th

In 2006, Bowden's final season as offensive coordinator, the Seminoles were 70th in the nation in total offense at 330 yards per game, and that was pretty much it for Jeff. Observers (like Mike) who have laid the Seminole decline at Jeff Bowden's feet point to those stats as the smoking gun. This year's dramatic turnover in coaching staff, which brought Jimbo Fisher over from LSU to run the offense and Rick Trickett down from West Virginia to coach the offensive line, can be traced to these numbers. For most of the fans I talk to, the question of "is it coaching, or is it the players?" will be answered in short order. Obviously, FSU is banking on "coaching."

But what about the players?

Go back to the 2000 season, when Florida State held that lofty #1 ranking in total offense. The quarterback was Chris Weinke, a senior. The wideouts included sophomore Anquan Boldin, sophomore Talman Gardner, senior Snoop Minnis, and junior Javon Walker, among others. The stable of running backs included Greg Jones and Travis Minor, along with lesser-knowns Jeff Chaney and Davy Ford, all four of whom were ranked among the top 21 rushers in the ACC by season's end.

Where are those guys now?

In the NFL, most of them. But what I mean is, where are their current equivalents? Where are the Peter Warricks, the Warrick Dunns, the Laverneus Coleses? There was a time when Florida State -- and Miami, for that matter -- simply had better players than anybody else. That time is gone.

I like to use the phrase "talent gap" when describing how former mid-major programs like Louisville, Boise State, and TCU have crept into weekly contention for a spot in college football's top 25. The theory is simple: mid-major programs that recruit aggressively, invest in their football program, and retain top-level coaches have closed the gap between themselves and the traditional powers in terms of talent. The distance between the haves and the have-nots in college football is shrinking, and all it takes is a home run here or there -- a Ray Rice to Rutgers, a Noel Devine to West Virginia, a new practice facility or a stadium upgrade -- to start shifting the tide. One boffo recruit leads to another, and then another. Once the ball starts rolling, it's tough to stop, and the gap shrinks.

Critics like to argue that Florida State is down, and if we judge the Seminoles on their own history, it's tough to dispute that position, although they've set the bar awfully high. But one could also find just as many stats, rankings, and bullet points to suggest that a lot of other programs are simply rising at a faster rate than ever before, and FSU has been treading water. The best talent in the country is no longer a lock for a power program like FSU -- and again, I could have written this entire entry about Miami and drawn the same conclusions.

Florida won a national championship last year with a two-year old coaching staff -- seemingly validating FireRonZook.com readers everywhere -- but they also did it with recruiting classes that were ranked 11th or better nationally by Scout.com in the three years leading up to Glendale. Over those same three years, Florida State's recruiting class was ranked 4th, 3rd, and 12th, respectively. The difference being, a good chunk of the players signed by the Seminoles during that span, including guys like Jamaal Edwards, Fred Rouse, and Brandon Warren, were lost to attrition via injury, transfer, what have you. First, you sign them -- then, you have to keep them, and develop them. Yes, it's the players, but it's also the coaching.

If Florida State bounces back this year -- and I think they will -- the new coaching staff must contribute in all facets: recruiting, retention, instruction, scheme, and development. The entire package. The competition, on and off the field, has never been more fierce.

Is it the coaching, or the players?

It's both. And that's the challenge for Florida State as they try to recapture the glory in 2007.

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.

The Roots of Passion

Those of us who grew up in college football country -- you may put your hands down now -- might have a hard time understanding the fuss over the Yankees-Red Sox rivalry, the latest chapter of which kicks off (sorry, it's a habit) on Monday with a three-game series in the Bronx.

All I can tell you is this: I pay one-hundred-and-something dollars every season for the MLB Extra Innings package on my cable system because my wife wants to watch Sox games on NESN. Schooled in Andover, Massachusetts, she's a card-carrying member of Red Sox Nation. She even has a personalized Florida license plate that indicates her team of choice. As irrational as you may be about the Gators, Seminoles, Hurricanes, Fighting Irish, Trojans, or Delaware Blue Hens, that's what Mrs. Watson is like when she watches the Red Sox. And if they happen to be playing the Yankees, you better buckle up. My seven-year-old son's first words were "Yankees suck."

Interesting conversation at my house the other night on the topic of college fans versus pro fans in our home state of Florida. To test a theory -- and as we all know, I love theories -- I asked my dad, who is strictly and solely a college guy, to name the Florida pro franchise that has the most passionate, loyal, and demanding fan base.

Without hesitation, he said "the Dolphins," which is the correct answer.

Why?

Because they're the oldest pro franchise in the state. In fact, they are the only pro team in Florida with roots in the 1960's, having entered the old American Football League as an expansion team in '66. The next-oldest pro team -- and arguably the one with the next-most-passionate fan base -- is the Tampa Bay Bucs, who came ten years later. By comparison, the NBA didn't come to Florida until the Miami Heat were born in 1988 (with the Orlando Magic coming one year after that). The NHL's first Florida franchise was the Lightning in '92, followed by the Panthers in '93. 1993 also brought us MLB's Florida Marlins, with the Devil Rays following in '98. In between, we gained a third NFL franchise when the Jacksonville Jaguars launched in 1995. That's nine professional franchises in our state in the four "major" sports, only two of which -- the Dolphins and Bucs -- have been around longer than 20 years. Both of our hockey teams, both of our baseball teams, and one of our football teams didn't exist until the decade of the '90s.

Now consider the Big Three college football programs of Florida, Florida State, and Miami: the Gators celebrated their 100th season of football in 2006; Miami's football program started in 1926 (the same year as the Great Storm that spawned the school's athletic nickname), and the Seminoles date back to 1947. In a state like Florida, where everybody moved here two years ago and everything was built last week, that's practically prehistoric.

And that, I think, is what distinguishes Florida as a college sports market: history. Fandom is passed down from generation to generation, from parent to child. My wife sweats the Red Sox because her parents did; with a line that traces back to the 1901 "Boston Americans," the Sox claim several generations of fans. For that matter, so do the Yankees, Cubs, Cardinals, Dodgers, and dozens of other well-established pro franchises, in all sports.

In Florida, the only generational links are those attached to college programs, with the possible exception of the Dolphins. Hence, those teams are the ones that arouse the deepest passions in fans -- they've not only been a part of our lives, but our parents' lives as well. While some of the younger franchises have enjoyed great success -- an NBA title for the Heat, a Stanley Cup for the Lightning, two World Series trophies for the Marlins, not to mention trips to the Finals for the Panthers and Magic -- nobody has "grown up" with those teams yet. Simply put, not enough time has passed. They're still growing as we speak, and so are their fans. This explains why Super Bowl titles for the Dolphins and Bucs seemingly trump championships in other sports for sheer nostalgia -- fans of those teams can remember the good old days, or, in the Bucs' case, the bad old days.

This theory, by the way, is specific to Florida, a state whose urban history is far shorter than that of the Northeast. What I mean is, even though there are college programs Up North that have been on the field forever -- Rutgers, for example, has been playing baseball and football since the late 1800's -- the "city games" elsewhere have largely been of the professional variety. There's also the matter of winning, which I have described in this space before. By themselves, the St. Louis Cardinals have won more World Series titles (ten) than the total combined championships of all the pro teams in Florida (seven: Dolphins twice, Marlins twice, Bucs, Lightning, Heat). Never mind the Yankees, who have won the Series 26 times. Not only do their pro teams have longer histories than ours, they have longer histories of winning. Conversely, our major college programs aren't just old, they're good: five championships for Hurricane football, two for the Gators, two for Florida State, not to mention Florida's consecutive basketball titles and the dozens of College World Series appearances for all three schools. While Northern schools like Rutgers, Princeton, Yale, and even Syracuse have been competing intercollegiately for decades, no single state can match Florida's body of work in college athletics.

Okay, maybe Texas or California, but you get the point.

Does this mean that pro teams in Florida other than the Dolphins have no shot at developing a generational fan base? Of course not. Like I said, it's simply a matter of time. Winning helps, but longevity is the true essential. Put it this way: the Chicago Cubs have been developing new and exciting ways of either sucking or breaking their fans' hearts since 1870, and yet, Wrigley Field is full every day. The Cubs are a constant. There's nobody in Chicago old enough to remember a time when the Cubs didn't exist. Bringing it home, my two kids will grow up with nine pro teams in Florida, and they will never know anything different. That's how passion forms.

Just ask my wife.