bill callahan

Nebraska Football: The Most Important Quote from Adrian Martinez at B1G Media Days

/ patrickrunge / 1 Comment

DSC07627

Last week, the college football season unofficially started with B1G Media Days in Chicago. Sophomore quarterback Adrian Martinez was one of Nebraska’s three player representatives, and got a lot of attention from the local and national media.

Martinez is mature, almost preternaturally so, in his interactions with the media, and it was remarkable to see him hold court. But one thing he said stuck with me as having the potential to be the most significant insight about Nebraska in 2019, in response to a question about NU’s rematch with Colorado (as reported by Erin Sorensen of Hail Varsity).

“First things first, we definitely have to focus on South Alabama. They’re going to be a tough team and that’s going to be a big one for us.”

Now, on the one hand, the “one game at a time” mantra is a classic example of Crash Davis’ advice to learn your clichés as an athlete. But just because it’s a cliché doesn’t mean it’s not accurate. Over the last decade, one of Nebraska’s biggest challenges has been avoiding the head-scratching poor performances against sub-par opposition. Take a look (if you dare) at the times Nebraska has stubbed its collective toe in unexpected ways:

Date Opponent Score
Sept. 15, 2018 Troy L 19-24
Sept. 17, 2017 Northern Illinois L 17-21
Oct. 03, 2015 at Illinois L 13-14
Sept. 06, 2014 McNeese State W 31-24
Nov. 22, 2014 Minnesota L 24-28
Oct. 26, 2013 at Minnesota L 23-34
Nov. 05, 2011 at Northwestern L 25-28
Oct. 24, 2009 Iowa State L 7-9
Sept. 22, 2007 Ball State W 41-40

I included Ball State to show that the history of underperforming goes all the way back to the Callahan era, with Nebraska needing a miracle defensive play to avoid an upset to Ball State at home. And for the Pelini era, the McNeese State win is also included because Nebraska absolutely should have lost at home to an FCS team absent a miraculous game-saving touchdown from Ameer Abdullah.

For over a decade now, Nebraska has baked underperformances and losses to inferior teams into its football culture. Head coach Scott Frost couldn’t magically change that with his arrival, as last year’s loss to Troy (!) proves.

This year, expectations for Nebraska are sky-high, especially coming off back-to-back 4-8 seasons. While the schedule does set up favorably, to meet those expectations Nebraska will have to break losing streaks against teams like Ohio State (four straight), Wisconsin (six straight), Iowa (four straight), and Northwestern (two straight) to reach those lofty goals.

Just as important, though, to Nebraska finally turning that proverbial corner is to avoid embarrassing itself. Beating a team like Ohio State or Wisconsin loses a lot of juice if Nebraska doesn’t take care of business against a team like South Alabama or Northern Illinois – and NU’s history over the last decade or so suggests NU is vulnerable to such a sub-par performance.

So it’s a very good sign that Martinez is talking about South Alabama instead of taking the bait and looking ahead to Nebraska’s rematch in Boulder. Rebuilding a winning culture (or, dare I say, a winning tradition) includes taking care of business against the minnows as much as it means winning the marquee games.

GBR, baby.

Nebraska Football: Why Cornhusker Fans Are So Excited About The Hiring of Scott Frost

/ patrickrunge / 3 Comments

frost

Sometimes, being married to a Hawkeye fan is really helpful (although, other times, not so much). Mrs. DXP – in addition to heroically putting up with all this nonsense – has provided some invaluable perspective as the soap opera we call Nebraska football has churned on. She was ahead of the curve in detesting Bo Pelini, and she adored Mike Riley to the point of considering wearing a scarlet-and-cream shirt.

And she’s already sick of hearing about Scott Frost. What pushed her over the edge, I’m pretty sure, was the fact that Frost’s long-awaited announcement as Nebraska’s new head football coach was heralded by the arrival of a Super Frost Moon in the sky on Saturday.

(As a side note, I should mention that I would watch the heck out of any anime titled “Super Frost Moon” right about now).

How, an exasperated Mrs. DXP asks me, can you guys get so excited about a 42-year-old guy who has only coached at a school for two years? What in the world is the big deal?

That’s fair, I said, and not only because I would prefer not to sleep on the roof for the next couple of weeks. Frost’s hiring has excited the Nebraska fan base in a way that no one else has. There was an element of this excitement when Pelini was hired – you can make the walk of shame now if you have a “My Bo-Friend’s Back” t-shirt stuck in your closet somewhere.

But this is different, for two distinct but related reasons.

Hope

Nebraska’s last conference championship was in 1999. But, really, Nebraska’s exile into the desert of college football irrelevance began with Miami’s 38-14 humiliation of NU in the national championship game. Since then, Nebraska fans have been longing for a return to that national limelight.

Bill Callahan sold hope to the fanbase with a revamped offense, an NFL pedigree, and top-20 recruiting classes. That lasted four years and died with a defensive collapse and a poisoned atmosphere from a fractured fanbase. Pelini sold hope in a no-nonsense toughness, and defensive dominance. That lasted seven years and died in ugly losses to Wisconsin and Ohio State and ugly demonstrations of anger and immaturity on and off the field. Riley sold hope with a pro-style offense and a calm demeanor. That lasted three years and died in .500 mediocrity.

Why did Riley get only three years, not even a full recruiting class? In part, it was a lack of unity within the program – more on that in a moment. But more importantly was the volume of losses, and the nature of the losses in year three, that extinguished hope in the fanbase that Nebraska could ever be successful.

In Rogue One, Jyn Erso said that “rebellions are built on hope.” So are sports fans. It’s the bedrock upon which everything in sports fandom resides. Why do we sit out in ridiculous weather to watch a game? Why do we spend thousands of dollars on tickets and merchandise and travel? Why do we tolerate the hypocrisies, little and big, that stain the sports we love?

We do it because we live in hope, that the team in which we have invested our emotional capital will give us back glory. We will put up with just about anything – disturbingly so, in some cases – in the hope that we can bask in that reflected glory of our team’s victory. And if that hope dies, then the underlying ridiculousness of fandom becomes much harder to bear.

By the time Minnesota – Minnesota, fer cryin’ out loud – hung a fifty-burger on the Blackshirts, any remaining hope that Riley could be successful in Lincoln died. And once that hope dies in a fanbase, those in charge of a program face an existential challenge, and have to act decisively.

The hiring of Frost brings hope back to Lincoln. In part, the hope is simply because he’s not Riley, the guy who failed. In part, the hope is based on the success he had at Oregon and Central Florida. In large part, the hope is based on the unity he can bring to both the fanbase and the program – again, more on that in a bit.

But Frost brings hope. And for a despairing fanbase watching the worst performance since 1961 by a Nebraska football team, that hope was something desperately needed and greedily devoured.

Unity

As a smart and particularly handsome analyst observed, the firing of Frank Solich in 2003 created a schism in the Nebraska fan base, one from which it has never truly recovered. Since that firing, the fanbase has been split into warring camps, being either “current-coach-guys” or “not-current-coach-guys.”

Year by year, as Nebraska’s national relevance faded further and further into the mists of memory, that schism deepened. Each season of failure and frustration split that crack further apart, like a hammer blow on a wedge splitting a log. As Nebraska’s coaches and culture whipsawed from one pole to the other, each “camp” of fans took solace in the position that it was the other camp’s position that was responsible for Nebraska’s wanderings in the desert of irrelevance.

Which became, in many ways, a self-fulfilling prophecy by the time Riley arrived. As a man who overachieved at Oregon State, but never had won a conference title or achieved a gaudy record, Riley’s hire took Nebraska fans by surprise. And as an outsider, replacing a coach who still had a “camp” both inside and outside of the program even after his dismissal, Riley immediately faced a portion of his program and his fanbase that was at best skeptical of his ability to succeed – and at worst rooting for his failure.

This does nothing to absolve Riley of his failure, of course. Riley knew exactly what he was getting himself into, had every opportunity to succeed, and was singularly unable to deliver. His dismissal after three seasons, given his body of work, was not only justified but necessary.

Schisms are soul-crushing. Conflict is exhausting. Outside of sports, we live in a hyper-partisan world where your choice of religion or political party or pop singer identifies you and creates a group of mortal enemies who do not agree with your choice.

Since 2003, Nebraska football has fallen victim to the same disease of tribalism that has infected the rest of our land. But Frost’s arrival provides, for the first time since 2003, a healing of that schism and a moment of respite from our hyper-partisan lives. For now, the scarlet and cream family has come together around the returning son from Wood River, and Nebraska fans can bask in the glow of fellowship with their fellow fans.

Who knows how long this unity will last. Frost will never be more popular than he is right now – unless he wins Nebraska a national title, of course. Nebraska fans aren’t stupid, and they know that Frost’s hiring doesn’t guarantee trophies in the cabinet next year – or any year.

But they know that the hiring of Frost has brought them hope and unity. And, for now, that’s more than enough.

GBR, baby.

Image from KETV photographer Dan Grzekowiak.

Editor’s note: The post has been updated to reflect Nebraska’s most recent conference championship as 1999, not 1997.

Nebraska Football: A Thank-You Letter to Mike Riley

/ patrickrunge / Leave a comment

Mike Riley

Holding you I held everything

For a moment wasn’t I a king

But if I’d only known how the king would fall

Hey who’s to say you know

I might have changed it all

And know I’m glad I didn’t know

The way it all would end

The way it all would go

Our lives are better left to chance

I could have missed the pain

But I’d have to miss the dance

– “The Dance,” Garth Brooks

Dear Coach Riley:

I know this wasn’t the letter that you wanted to read, and it sure wasn’t the letter I wanted to write. But before you leave Lincoln, I want to tell you just how much I appreciate the three years you’ve been here.

Yeah, what happened on the field wasn’t what anyone wanted to see, and not at all what you thought your team would be producing. And as honorable and decent of a man and a leader you’ve been, you’ve been doing this long enough to know that it’s a ruthless business. That in big-time college athletics, all the grace and honor in the world, all the graduation rates and great citizens you have on your team doesn’t outweigh the wins and losses on the field.

We both know that the cold lights of the scoreboard have no sympathy and provide no place to hide.

But that’s not why I’m writing you. What you’ve done here in three short years is something truly honorable and truly remarkable, and I want to make sure you know just how much it was appreciated.

As a fan base, we’ve kind of been a mess for a while now. You know all about the run we had in the late nineties, winning three national championships in four years under head coach Tom Osborne. You know that when Osborne retired, he handed the reins over to long-time assistant Frank Solich. And that’s where the trauma of our fanbase began.

Solich was a good man, and held with him a straight line to the history that we as fans hold so dear. He took us to a national championship game (although that one didn’t work out so well).

But after that, his team went 7-7 in 2002. Sadly, we’ve gotten a little used to records like that since 2002, but at that point we hadn’t seen anything like that in a generation – and we kinda lost our minds. Solich’s recruiting fell apart, and in November of 2003 then-athletic director Steve Pederson fired Solich. In explaining Solich’s dismissal, Pederson said that he would not let the Nebraska program “gravitate into mediocrity.”

That was really the ultimate fracture of our fanbase. None of us had ever seen a coach fired growing up. We thought that was for “other programs” who didn’t have the advantages of Nebraska.

(As I know you’ve seen, we tend to think awfully highly of ourselves as a fanbase. There’s probably some good in that, but it also causes a lot of problems – and you in many ways fell victim to us and our perceptions of where the program “deserves” to be.)

About half of us thought the firing was necessary, and that Solich – good man and connection to the past – was not up for the job. The other half, though, viewed Solich’s dismissal – especially coming off a nine-win season, a topic we will see come up again – as a betrayal of Nebraska’s history.

That schism just simmered throughout the tenure of Bill Callahan, Solich’s replacement, a technocrat from the NFL who struggled to connect with the fans. Callahan’s lack of winning, combined with him changing Nebraska’s offense from the iconic option to a West Coast attack, furthered the schism caused by Solich’s firing. Fans in the “keep Solich” camp even took to wearing Ohio Bobcat gear – the school that hired Solich – to Memorial Stadium for home games as a means of protest.

Pederson became, put mildly, unpopular both inside and outside of the athletic department. In the middle of the 2007 season, Pederson was fired and Osborne took over as interim athletic director. As a result, the rest of the 2007 was a drama-filled endeavor wondering if Callahan would be fired.

I know, I know, sounds a lot like what you went through this year.

Callahan’s departure was filled with pique and disdain, and he became the target of the fanbase’s venom for a decade of frustration. Osborne replaced him with Bo Pelini, the guy who was Solich’s defensive coordinator in 2003.

I know you heard a lot about Pelini while you were in Lincoln. In some ways, his ghost haunted the offices at 10th and Vine. I know you heard all about how he never won fewer than nine games. I know you heard how his teams were routinely embarrassed when in the spotlight (ooh, look, Melvin Gordon just scored again).

And I know you heard about, well, what were generously described as his “antics” on the sideline. Combine that with him getting caught with a profane rant about Nebraska fans – and seven years of not winning the conference – and it added up to Pelini’s dismissal by then-athletic director Shawn Eichorst.

But it was what happened after Pelini’s dismissal that was the worst (at least, while he was at Nebraska). He said a whole bunch of stuff, but this is the quote that pretty much sums up what he left you to work with — with apologies for the language, that I suspect you would not approve of (as reprinted from the Omaha World-Herald).

It wasn’t a surprise to me. It really wasn’t. I didn’t really have any relationship with the AD. The guy — you guys saw him (Sunday) — the guy’s a total pussy. I mean, he is. He’s a total cunt.

And since I’ve been here — he’s been here for about two years — I’ve probably had a conversation with the guy a couple times. You saw him. He’s never been in the locker room.

At the end of the day, he was never going to support us. And he didn’t support us. You saw it. He was never going to come out in the paper and support (us).

So that was the cauldron you were walking into, with the kids in your locker room hearing that before you took over. You were an outsider, and you know how we feel about outsiders. You didn’t have a bunch of championship trophies on your mantle, although your record at a place as difficult as Oregon State has always been impressive.

You bore all of that with grace and dignity, never complaining once about the challenges you were handed when you arrived. You kept a level head and a calm demeanor even as you had so many close, gut-wrenching losses in your final season. You showed your team – and your fanbase – how to face adversity and struggle with class, dignity, and professionalism.

And then, Sam died.

I don’t know how you take a group of young men and help them through such a traumatic experience. But you did. You found a way to give those young men space to grieve, and find focus and purpose in the game they love as a way to honor the memory of their fallen friend. That quiet, loving, compassionate leadership you showed in the 2016 season is a model that all of us can aspire to if we are ever faced with such a horrendous challenge.

We call came out of that season, and into this one, with such optimism. You had your quarterback. You had fired your long-time friend Mark Banker as a defensive coordinator to show how serious you were to win and win big at Nebraska. You took risks, putting your career in Lincoln on the line to deliver wins on the field.

It didn’t work. And now you’re left to ponder what’s next for you after what you called your last great adventure. You have to, I imagine, be left regretting what could have been, as well as a feeling of disappointment that you couldn’t give us as a fanbase the success we wanted.

We’re disappointed too, of course. And speaking just for me, I feel a profound sense of sadness that your time with us has ended as it did.

But even as you left, you taught us. As opposed to Pelini, we saw a man stand up (in Nebraska colors, no less) and acknowledge his failing. We saw a man be thankful for the opportunity he was given, rather than feel the need to burn the house down to satisfy a petty need for revenge and self-aggrandizement.

This isn’t a eulogy for you, of course. You’re a young man, with a tremendous amount left to contribute to the game of football and to the broader world. Whether it’s being a grandfather or being a football coach, I have no doubt you will not only be successful at it, but that you will make all the people around you better for having the privilege of being with you.

Thank you, coach. As a fan who has just watched you from afar, I’ve never met you. But I have no doubt I’m a better person for having watched you closely these last three years. And I hope that the next time I am faced with disappointment in my life, I can respond to it they way you taught me as you left your final press conference here (as reported by Sam McKewon of the Omaha World-Herald).

It’s like that old song, I could’ve missed the pain but I would’ve missed the dance.

GBR, baby.

Photo courtesy of the Concord Monitor.

Nebraska Football: Five Rules For Husker Fans For The Rest of 2017

/ patrickrunge / 1 Comment

DSC06372

Most of you are expecting a Re-View of Nebraska’s 54-21 loss to Minnesota. But I just don’t see a point in breaking down this game. Full credit to Minnesota, a team under first-year coach P.J. Fleck who is on the rise and will be good in coming years.

But there’s no way to understand this loss without knowing that head coach Mike Riley is almost assuredly is going to lose his job after this season. This loss had much more to do with Nebraska’s mental state – or lack thereof – than anything in terms of strategic breakdowns.

So what do you do now, Husker Fan? There’s still two games left, but for all practical purposes there’s nothing left to play for. It’s really weird for Nebraska fans to be in early November with games left on the schedule and having nothing to do but wait for the offseason.

We’re here to help, Husker Fan. I know you’re struggling for how to respond – anyone of us who wear scarlet and cream are struggling. So here are some rules to help you out.

You Can’t Stop Caring

I know, I know, this stinks. Your Husker heart is aching about this whole surreal situation. You just saw Minnesota – yes, the no. 119 team in national scoring – put up a fifty-burger on the Blackshirts. And there’s two games left. The first is at Penn State – yipes – and a loss to the Nittany Lions will guarantee Nebraska’s second losing season in three years. The second is home to Iowa – a team that hung 50 on Ohio State – in front of a Memorial Stadium crowd that will be more than ready to bid farewell to 2017.

This hurts. This is no fun. And the rational response to this feeling is to give up and pull away.

Don’t. You don’t get to do that as a fan. I’m not saying you have to soak up every play of the next two games. I’m not even saying that skipping the Iowa game if you have tickets is a problem. Disengaging some, especially from the exhibition-style games that 2017 has left for Nebraska fans, is defensible.

But that’s different than not caring. You’re reading this because you care about Nebraska football, and you’re looking for answers.

I’m not sure I can give you much in terms of answers, although I am going to suggest some ways to get through this year. But I can tell you that giving up on Nebraska football based on this season – or, heck, based on the last decade and a half – would be a huge mistake.

Sure, it’s been since 1999 since Nebraska gave you a conference title. Sure, you’ve watched a lot of embarrassing losses and ugly performances. But be honest – you’ve had a whole bunch of great experiences too.

Not just wins, although those have been fun too. But Nebraska football is woven into the fabric of your life. It’s something to get excited about during the dog days of summer. It’s something to organize your autumn Saturdays around. It’s an easy gift for your family to buy you at Christmastime.

Being a fan – being truly, fully emotionally invested in a team – is an amazing gift. Your fandom lets you intensely experience a range of emotions – admittedly, some bad as well as good – in a way that people who aren’t sports fans can’t understand. To give that up, even while in the throes of Nebraska’s current struggles, would be a very high price to pay.

You Can Be Frustrated, Angry, and Sarcastic

Look, just because you’re not disengaging doesn’t mean you have to say that this is all great. You’re upset about all of this, and you should be. And now, even more than in 2007, you’ve got social media platforms that are built for sarcasm and snark.

Let it rip (within certain limits). Dark comedy is a great outlet for your frustration. Sarcasm can make you feel better. Even a long, ALL CAP FILLED rant is a great vent of your feelings.

All of those things mean you still care, and are looking for an outlet for all your anger and frustration. So as long as you’re not being hurtful (and we’ll discuss what that looks like in a bit), let your snark flag fly.

You Can’t Take It Out On The Players

Social media is great to let your frustration out. But the players live on social media, too. Many of them put themselves out there on media like Twitter and Instagram, and are available to be reached by fans.

Some of you have decided that the college kids who play for Nebraska are good targets for your ire on social media. No one is getting named and shamed on this forum, but there’s only one response I can give to you.

Stop it.

Seriously there is no set of circumstances where calling out the players is a good idea. And I know that some of you will respond by telling me that the players gave an unacceptable effort against Minnesota.

I’m willing to listen to that, and certainly willing to listen to former Nebraska players discuss it. But there’s a difference between an athlete who has bled and sweated for the scarlet and cream and @JoeCouchGuy_7 popping off.

Ladies and gentlemen, football is hard. It’s a really hard game, and it’s really hard work to get ready to play, week after week. Every player on that team, I’m confident to say, has put in more work to be a football player than most people reading this blog have put in for anything in their life.

You know what else is hard? Losing. Continuing to lose plays with your confidence, and losing track of all your season goals makes it hard to give that extra little bit that is the difference between winning and losing.

Nebraska’s players are better than Minnesota’s. All else being equal, that means Nebraska should beat Minnesota. But that doesn’t mean there is a chasm of difference between the two teams. And desire, passion, “want to,” all those things that you hear football fans speak in clichés about, make a difference.

I can’t argue the fact that Nebraska’s effort against Minnesota was unacceptable. But I will argue that it’s awfully hard, awfully hard indeed, for college kids to give the kind of extreme effort necessary to win a football game – yes, even against Minnesota – when many of them have to be convinced that the entire coaching staff is going to be fired shortly after Black Friday.

Yes, that means a team that didn’t give acceptable effort is still doing its best. More importantly, it means that the kids on that roster still need – and deserve – the support of the fans.

You know that whole bit about “in all kinds of weather?” Now’s the time to put that to the test, Husker Fan, and stick together in support of the players as we close out 2017.

You Can’t Strike Your Colors

No hiding, Husker Fan. Now is the time where it’s important to fly your flag and broadcast your fandom. I know, Thanksgiving is coming, and your Hawkeye relatives will be licking their chops waiting for you.

What are you going to do? Put your scarlet and cream away and hope they don’t notice? Good luck with that. Now is the time to earn your stripes.

In 2004, I suffered from a bout of what you might call irrational exuberance. Before the season started, I bought tickets to the Big XII title game in Kansas City. I thought for sure the worm would turn, and this would be Nebraska’s year to scale the mountain.

Well, that didn’t exactly work. But I went anyway, and watched Oklahoma dismantle Colorado, 42-3.

But that’s not the point of the story. I wore my Nebraska coat (because it’s Arrowhead, and Arrowhead is bone-chilling cold in mid-July). And I got more comments – more respect – from the fans that were at the game than any other time I can recall

(Well, from the Oklahoma fans, anyway. Colorado fans are the subject of another essay.)

Here’s your chance, Husker Fan. You’re not 10 years old. You don’t get to change your allegiances when a new shiny object comes around or when you hit a little choppy water.

Lean into the struggle and fly your scarlet and cream proudly. Trust me, it will be worth it when things turn for Nebraska.

You Can’t Forget You’ve Seen This Before.

This is kind of a two-edged sword. It’s a problem for Nebraska as a program that we have been here before, in 2007 after Steve Pederson was fired. We’ve seen a team come unglued under the tutelage of a dead coach walking. We’ve seen ugly losses – although, in fairness, in 2007 the losses weren’t to teams as poor as 2017 Minnesota.

But we survived, didn’t we? We found hope in 2008, even when we thought we’d never feel that again after Kansas put up 76. We dreamed of titles when Nebraska played Oklahoma and Texas in the Big XII title game (although not at the same time, that would have been tough). We thought Nebraska had cracked the B1G nut when a four-loss Wisconsin showed up in Indianapolis – at least until the game started.

Hope will come again, probably sooner than you think. Riley has to go, but he’s not Bill Callahan or Bo Pelini. He’ll still coach and recruit, and leave the team in the best shape possible for the next guy in charge. He won’t shut things down in a fit of pique or poison the well to salve his bruised ego.

And now Nebraska has an experienced football mind in Bill Moos to fire Riley and hire his replacement. That’s no guarantee, of course, the Moos will pick the right guy. Or that the right guy will want to come to Lincoln. Or that the “right guy” will actually be the right guy and get Nebraska back to national relevance.

But there’s reason for hope. Not only because there’s reason to believe in the new decision-maker, but because the drought has been so long for Nebraska that it can ill afford another wrong guy wearing the headset in Lincoln.

Give in to that hope, Husker Fan, at least a little bit. Life is too short, and too hard, to indulge yourself in the cowardice of cynicism. At the end of the day, it is still college football – the most important irrelevant thing around these parts. Whether or not Nebraska is good at football isn’t going to put food on your table or a roof over your head.

But being a Nebraska fan can make you happy. To allow that, though, you have to find a little space in your heart for hope. It’s a tough ask now, I get it. But it was a tough ask before, too. And hope came back, just as sure as day follows the night.

Don’t be afraid of it, Husker Fan. Search out the hope. And embrace it when it comes.

Now, more than ever, GBR, baby.