sorry if this has been posted http://www.collegefootballnews.com Tennessee - LSU Notebook [font=verdana, arial, sans serif]Tennessee 30 ... LSU 27 OT[/font][font=verdana, arial, sans serif][size=-1] [/size][/font]By Matthew Zemek I. Don’t Blame Les... And Be Kind to JaMarcus II. To Throw Or Not To Throw III. A Referendum on Refs IV. Media Musings: Ron Franklin and Bob Davie I. Don’t Blame Les... And Be Kind to JaMarcus Before the season—and Hurricane Katrina—when football had a higher and more central emotional place in the hearts of LSU fans, it was hard for Tiger Nation to think that a team with overflowing talent needed much coaching. The talent was supposed to take care of itself. But in college football, you need premium sideline generals, and Les Miles’ portfolio was hardly indicative of a five-star commander. Equally important in the college game is to have a quarterback who won’t make untimely mistakes, and JaMarcus Russell had a way to go in that department. Coach and quarterback figured to bite LSU in the backside before the season was over. But here’s where college football gets complicated (one can’t stress that enough). In light of LSU’s loss to Tennessee, critics of Miles—perhaps inclined to tell LSU fans “I told you so”—need to look at the big picture: Miles did not do a poor job. When you factor in the emotional dynamics of this game, the weird Monday night feel that just didn’t reduplicate the more liberated weekend energy of a Saturday night affair, and the extent to which Tennessee dogged it in the first half, Miles was a coach who led 21-0, but had precious little control over the game. That seems like an absurd statement to make, but it rings with truth. Tennessee—by playing so horribly—made it hard for the LSU crowd to sustain its excitement. Had there not been Katrina, and had football not been put into perspective, a 21-point LSU lead would have been cause for a major outpouring of emotion from the Tiger Stadium crowd. But one got the sense that in the third quarter, a crowd conscious of how its community, university, and state were forever changed was not 100 percent into football. With a lull in the action and the home team leading by three possessions, the crowd didn’t act like sharks wanting more blood to flow from the Vols’ beaten exterior. Instead, it seemed as though the (appropriate) realization of the small place of this game in the larger scheme of things stilled the LSU crowd. There wasn’t the feeding frenzy that has characterized Death Valley in its greatest moments: the Earthquake game against Auburn, the 1997 upset of Florida, and the 2003 victory over defending SEC Champion Georgia. There was a vacuum in Tiger Stadium in the third quarter, and Tennessee—with one big drive and then JaMarcus Russell’s devastating interception—quickly manipulated that energy in its favor. Once this energy started rolling for the Vols—a team that, under Fulmer, has always been awesome when it manages to get hold of momentum but stinks when its confidence level is low—there was little Les Miles could do to stem the tide. What further removes Miles from blame is the fact that Jimbo Fisher is LSU’s longtime offensive coordinator. Fisher, not Miles, is the man in command of the Tigers’ offense, and is therefore the man who—given his feel for the strengths and weaknesses of his players—has to come under scrutiny for a string of curious play calls down the stretch. With Fisher having an innate knowledge of the terminology of his offense—while Miles is the one learning from his coordinator—it’s Fisher that needs to take responsibility for the fundamental strategic moves that were made in the final few minutes of regulation, and then overtime. Furthermore, given the post-Katrina emotions that Miles has had to manage for so long, not to mention the weirdness of this hurricane-affected game, it would be unfair to view this contest as a legitimate barometer of Miles’ quality (or lack thereof) as a coach. So far in 2005 and especially Monday night against the Vols, Miles has found himself in very unique circumstances the likes of which no other coach has ever had to deal with before. And because the energy of this game—both on and off the field—was so different from a “normal” game played on Saturday night, a lot of the normal guidelines for managing in-game emotions were not in play for Miles. This figured to be an unusual game with very uneven and severe momentum shifts, and that’s exactly what it became. Coaches—as creatures of preparation—can’t prepare for what they don’t know will happen. Miles just doesn’t deserve much of any heat for this loss, even if his credentials were doubted in the offseason. And aside of the focus on Miles, one also needs to lay off JaMarcus Russell. Yes, his interception was the single play that turned the game around, but similar to Miles, this game can’t be viewed as a normal indicator of quality. There was little normal game preparation for this contest, and frankly, Russell was the quarterback in this game who, for the first three quarters, was the better-looking and more prepared quarterback. He simply won’t be able to avoid making mistakes—not immediately, anyway—and it was unfortunate that he chose the worst possible time to make a big mistake. Russell should mature in the future and eventually avoid these kinds of mistakes, but again, the extraordinary circumstances under which this game was played—not to mention the fact that all LSU players deserve nothing but the support and encouragement of all Americans right now—should blunt criticism of Russell in the present moment. II. To Throw Or Not To Throw The supremely fascinating football debate this Vols-Tigers game stimulated—a discussion that could really go on for a very long while—is as follows: when a player makes a mistake, do you go right back to that player to shore up confidence and overcome the memory of failure, or do you avoid that player at all costs? Even more urgently, if this mistake-prone player is your quarterback, how much do you keep the ball in his hands? Jimbo Fisher clearly decided to take the ball out of JaMarcus Russell’s hands after his fourth-quarter interception. Many people would see this as fundamentally smart, given the need to be safe with the ball and run clock with a small lead. But many other people would say, with considerable justification, that by ceasing to throw the ball, Fisher subtly but tellingly expressed a lack of confidence in Russell’s ability to bounce back, thereby limiting LSU’s attack and giving Tennessee’s defense increased confidence. It bears asking: how long do you trust an interception-prone signal-caller to make clutch throws? When is the tipping point where you stop challenging fate and start being appropriately conservative? These are very tough strategic questions, and they’re tough because they are connected to the emotions of the players involved. Some players mentally buckle when they make a mistake, and therefore have to be avoided in the next play, series or sequence after a big miscue. Others, though, turn a mistake into a motivational moment that only enhances performance and intensity. Russell is treading this fine line right now, and Fisher—as his coordinator—needs to find a way to keep Russell confident while also exercising appropriate caution in his quarterback’s abilities. This dilemma illustrates how hard it can often be in college football to choose between two fundamental strategic approaches. III. A Referendum on Refs Pardon one’s French, but the officiating in Vols-Tigers stunk to high heaven. One cannot count the number of times—in crucial situations or on defining plays—when an offensive lineman flinched, only for a false start to not be called. When Tennessee had a first and goal from the LSU 2 after JaMarcus Russell’s interception in the fourth quarter, the Vols’ fullback flinched, but no call. This repeated a play just a few minutes earlier, when—with about 10:30 left in the fourth—another Vol lineman flinched on third and goal from the LSU 1. And even before those plays, there was a third instance in which a Vol lineman flinched: the play when LSU was ruled offside, only for Tennessee’s Josh Briscoe to lose track of a Rick Clausen pass that, if caught, would have resulted in a touchdown. But while UT false starts were missed on several occasions, a very big play that enabled LSU to build a 14-0 lead should not have counted. On the flea-flicker where Russell hit Craig Davis for a huge gain to set up the Tigers’ second touchdown, the LSU fullback was moving forward at the time of the snap, cause for an illegal motion penalty. Somehow, the zebras missed this. And finally, one can’t end this discussion of officiating without mentioning how the overtime sequence witnessed two horrible non-holding calls against each team. LSU held Tennessee’s Jesse Mahelona on the Tigers’ possession, and a key 7-yard run by Gerald Riggs, Jr. was made possible only because of a blatant jersey grab on the edges by a Volunteer blocker. For all who wagered money on this game, Penn Wagers’ crew made life a lot more anxious than it should have been. (The moral of the story? Don’t wager, period.) IV. Media Musings: Ron Franklin and Bob Davie This Monday night game afforded one the chance to listen to a single broadcast crew from beginning to end without interruption, thereby enabling a savvy listener to form more complete and developed views of the play-by-play man and analyst for this contest. In short, Ron Franklin and Bob Davie disappointed, especially Davie. Yes, the former Notre Dame coach made a brilliant identification of an offensive pass interference penalty early in the game against Craig Davis on a pick play. Yes, Davie will occasionally get inside the mind of a coach with a very particular insight, such as his point that Rick Clausen’s touchdown in the third quarter was important for the Vols’ season, not just the individual game against LSU (oh, how accurate that point turned out to be!). But in general, Davie didn’t offer much more than the obvious in a broadcast that really didn’t educate the fan the way a Gary Danielson, Kirk Herbstreit, Todd Blackledge, or Ed Cunningham will manage to do. When Davie said that Tennessee “has done a better job” of policing its program, the comment sounded like a typically lame cover for one coach on the part of another man who, until recently, was part of the coaching profession himself. This is a lot like Dick Vitale or Billy Packer shamelessly defending college basketball coaches (Bob Huggins as an example) whose programs have appallingly low graduation rates. Davie, as a journalist who is no longer a coach, should not have let the Tennessee program off the hook so easily. This doesn’t mean Davie necessarily had to bash the Vols, only that he shouldn’t have concocted a weak, softball defense for the program. That’s not asking too much. Davie also disappointed ESPN2 viewers with his mangling of the English language. He used the term “self-inflicted mistakes” a number of times in rapid-fire succession during a Tennessee possession early in the third quarter. That’s “self-inflicted wounds,” coach. If you wanted to use the term “mistakes,” the appropriate phrasing would have been “unforced mistakes.” Finally, Davie did what no top-shelf analyst should ever do: make a hollow generalization. When Tennessee was on the comeback trail, Davie said—in an echo of what he expressed at halftime—“that’s why they play two halves.” Empty words like those detract from football analysis, and while Davie is extremely good at identifying penalties—easily his best strength as an analyst—he needs a lot of work in the other areas of the broadcasting craft.
i dont put much stock in the effects of the hurricane(s) on the game--at least not the ones zemek mentioned. the biggest effect, and on i think might have had a major effect on lsu's play, was the loss of the UNT game i havent noticed any tigerfan posters talking about bad refereeing. all ive read is griping about an undisciplined team. bs to that. we were more disciplined than our opponent (although not hard when playing those thugs) and the bad calls hurt us more than them-especially all the missed holds.
