VFL-82-JP
Bleedin' Orange...
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warning -- long think piece
Well, that one hurt. Losses always hurt, but defeats snatched from the jaws of victory seem to hurt the most. Sometimes it is very hard being a Tennessee fan.
We feel a need to blame someone. Bad things don't just happen, they have a cause. The world makes sense. There's some logic here. Is it this player, or that one? Is it the coaches? Is it a curse, a jinx? Like Job in his trials, there is a strong urge to sink to our knees and ask, "Why us?"
But of course, this is bigger than just us. The pain we feel, our players feel even more intensely. These players who sacrifice so much of a carefree college life in order to put on the orange and represent us on the field. We watched it; but they lived it. Their huge orange hearts are bruised even worse than ours.
And the coaches. It can be very difficult to muster compassion for the paid professionals who are supposed to be capable of steering us clear of these treacherous shoals. But they didn't come into this game losers. They came in just as eager as us, just as confident and hopeful. It is true: they might be responsible for losing. It is quite possible they had all the tools they needed to win this game, and simply failed in their jobs. Then again, there are very good coaches on the other sideline with the same--but opposing--responsibilities. At the top end of the sport, every peer-to-peer matchup is a 50/50 proposition. Was this just our turn at the bottom /50 position?
Hate to think that. Predestination is a bitter dish. No one is "meant to lose." Winning and losing are the result of effort and skill, heart and sweat, talent and cunning and a refusal to give up. Did we give up tonight? Did we abandon our fate to defeat when it came stalking? After feeling like the lion most of the game, were we really only ever the sheep, tied at the neck and staked in the middle of the clearing as sacrifice to the real predator?
And most painful of all, do the thugs get to win? We've come full circle, back to the world needing to make sense. Tennessee's coaches and players carried themselves with dignity leading up to this game, while Oklahoma's head coach and players--who after all are reflections of their coach--seemed like two-bit actors out of a trailer park. So how do the losers win? How do they profit from disdain, benefit from boorishness? This can't be right. If this is true, the world doesn't make much sense.
At this point in contemplation, the urge is strong to dismiss such deep philosophical thoughts. It is just a football game. Just. That word sounds hollow. One doesn't feel such strong emotions over "just" anything. It has to be something more.
But what?
Well, it is Tennessee football. It is six national championships. One of the greatest sporting arenas in the land. It is Doug and Peyton, Reggie and Willie, Condredge and Peerless, and General Robert Neyland. But again, those are ghosts of our past. There is no route to the past. All paths lead only to the future. But what future? Who are we today? What is this generation's contribution? How do we get back to that level? Where's the path that will take us there? How can we become better than we are? How can we beat the thugs, put an end to embarrassment at their hands?
First, we must avoid becoming them. No shortcuts, no cheats. No disrespect as a costume for pride. No stooping to their level. No 'win at any cost,' because that would not be winning at all.
Second, faith. The family that tears itself apart at the first sign of hardship is no family. There is a great strength in family, in team, an iron strength. But it does not survive self-destruction; discord is its kryptonite. So no finger pointing. Let each of us point fingers only at ourselves. For our teammates, only reassurance and encouragement. I am still with you. I have faith in you. We will figure this out together. We will beat this, as a team.
Finally, snap and clear. Oklahoma was yesterday. It is trapped in amber, stuck in the past. We will some day get a chance to meet that team again, to give it a different result. But that is not our task today. Today, we prepare for West Carolina, then Florida. That is our task.
So this: West Carolina, then Florida. The SEC East. Atlanta. In truth, the same team goals as before, just sharpened down to a narrow point. We are not going to take over the world in 2015. We are not going to challenge for the national championship. We are not in position to right all wrongs. But we can take a step in that direction by focusing on the conference and our place in it. With respect for our players and our coaches and each other.
Sometimes it is very hard to be a Tennessee fan. But it is always worth it, nonetheless. Go Vols.
Well, that one hurt. Losses always hurt, but defeats snatched from the jaws of victory seem to hurt the most. Sometimes it is very hard being a Tennessee fan.
We feel a need to blame someone. Bad things don't just happen, they have a cause. The world makes sense. There's some logic here. Is it this player, or that one? Is it the coaches? Is it a curse, a jinx? Like Job in his trials, there is a strong urge to sink to our knees and ask, "Why us?"
But of course, this is bigger than just us. The pain we feel, our players feel even more intensely. These players who sacrifice so much of a carefree college life in order to put on the orange and represent us on the field. We watched it; but they lived it. Their huge orange hearts are bruised even worse than ours.
And the coaches. It can be very difficult to muster compassion for the paid professionals who are supposed to be capable of steering us clear of these treacherous shoals. But they didn't come into this game losers. They came in just as eager as us, just as confident and hopeful. It is true: they might be responsible for losing. It is quite possible they had all the tools they needed to win this game, and simply failed in their jobs. Then again, there are very good coaches on the other sideline with the same--but opposing--responsibilities. At the top end of the sport, every peer-to-peer matchup is a 50/50 proposition. Was this just our turn at the bottom /50 position?
Hate to think that. Predestination is a bitter dish. No one is "meant to lose." Winning and losing are the result of effort and skill, heart and sweat, talent and cunning and a refusal to give up. Did we give up tonight? Did we abandon our fate to defeat when it came stalking? After feeling like the lion most of the game, were we really only ever the sheep, tied at the neck and staked in the middle of the clearing as sacrifice to the real predator?
And most painful of all, do the thugs get to win? We've come full circle, back to the world needing to make sense. Tennessee's coaches and players carried themselves with dignity leading up to this game, while Oklahoma's head coach and players--who after all are reflections of their coach--seemed like two-bit actors out of a trailer park. So how do the losers win? How do they profit from disdain, benefit from boorishness? This can't be right. If this is true, the world doesn't make much sense.
At this point in contemplation, the urge is strong to dismiss such deep philosophical thoughts. It is just a football game. Just. That word sounds hollow. One doesn't feel such strong emotions over "just" anything. It has to be something more.
But what?
Well, it is Tennessee football. It is six national championships. One of the greatest sporting arenas in the land. It is Doug and Peyton, Reggie and Willie, Condredge and Peerless, and General Robert Neyland. But again, those are ghosts of our past. There is no route to the past. All paths lead only to the future. But what future? Who are we today? What is this generation's contribution? How do we get back to that level? Where's the path that will take us there? How can we become better than we are? How can we beat the thugs, put an end to embarrassment at their hands?
First, we must avoid becoming them. No shortcuts, no cheats. No disrespect as a costume for pride. No stooping to their level. No 'win at any cost,' because that would not be winning at all.
Second, faith. The family that tears itself apart at the first sign of hardship is no family. There is a great strength in family, in team, an iron strength. But it does not survive self-destruction; discord is its kryptonite. So no finger pointing. Let each of us point fingers only at ourselves. For our teammates, only reassurance and encouragement. I am still with you. I have faith in you. We will figure this out together. We will beat this, as a team.
Finally, snap and clear. Oklahoma was yesterday. It is trapped in amber, stuck in the past. We will some day get a chance to meet that team again, to give it a different result. But that is not our task today. Today, we prepare for West Carolina, then Florida. That is our task.
So this: West Carolina, then Florida. The SEC East. Atlanta. In truth, the same team goals as before, just sharpened down to a narrow point. We are not going to take over the world in 2015. We are not going to challenge for the national championship. We are not in position to right all wrongs. But we can take a step in that direction by focusing on the conference and our place in it. With respect for our players and our coaches and each other.
Sometimes it is very hard to be a Tennessee fan. But it is always worth it, nonetheless. Go Vols.
