Luckless
My
apologies for being away so long since our last conversation. My non-seafaring
schedule is seasonal, and there was a recent blitzkrieg of events that
required my full attention.
At last we are only hours away. What we should expect after the first
’04 Tunnel Walk has been plumbed, probed, vivisected and glossed-over
many times elsewhere, so we won’t take much time here. But if you
want to play the Guess Those Scripted First Fifteen Plays game, a good
bet is on short drops and quick, high-percentage passes to the Good Hands
people; namely, Matt Herian (still) and Terrence Nunn (suddenly). Settle
the QB, provide opportunities for the pitch-and-catch to find a rhythm,
and praise-be-to-all-that-is-good-and-holy, at long last truly force an
opponent to not place 37 men in the box for the first four consecutive
series.
It has been interesting watching the question “Will it work?”
drift away from an undercurrent of doubt and slowly morph into a rephrasing
of “How well will it work and how soon?” It will be interesting
to see what Callahan and Norvell show in this first game. Opponents used
to be unprepared for all the different run formations and the variety
of option plays run out of them, but now they are intended to be unprepared
for the different passing formations and the variety of receivers that
run out of them. In the NFL, you peg the redline from game one, quarter
one, minute one. I would suspect that holding back is not in Callahan’s
game plan once the first-game nerves are settled and the first-down markers
are moved.
We know what Callahan intends to do on offense, and we have a pretty good
idea of how he will use and protect Dailey. What will be interesting to
watch is how aggressively he rotates the backup players in; at this point,
nothing is more critical for this team than building depth. Furthermore,
the starters cannot afford to get overly fatigued, because that’s
when poor technique shows up and injuries occur. Should this game get
out of hand for the Leathernecks, I will be very curious to see when Callahan
pulls the starters and sends the youngsters into the fray. Mass substitutions
late in the third quarter are so dearly missed that the sight of such
future-building may well bring a tear to these Red eyes.
Yet there is something greatly disappointing in a remark Callahan made
in recent. weeks. I have been very pleased to read about his voluminous
note taking and planning, the sheer intensity of his meticulousness. And
then he said it. A four-letter word. The “L” word.
Friends, if you only take one piece of advice from me, let it be this:
Never put your faith in or give a moment’s credence to this empty
concept we call “luck.” No such thing exits. It’s an
empty term. It’s a hollow word that humans devised to explain things
they could not control or understand. There is no mystical force that
smiles on rabbits’ feet, frowns on broken mirrors and collects in
the hollow of horseshoes. There is no entity that can be quantified and
accumulated by pinches of salt, knocks on wood or the avoidance of dark
felines. There is only drive and motivation. There is only choice and
responsibility. There is only performance and execution.
I fully expected a man like Callahan to know this, even when giving the
standard coach-speak spiel about what it takes to win a championship.
The problem is when “luck” becomes a crutch. Quarterback getting
beat up? Bad luck on that blindside hit (No, protection broke down). Running
back fumbled? Bad luck on that other player’s knee hitting the ball
(No, he should have held on tighter). The opponent kicks the ball to send
the game into overtime? Bad luck on a galactic scale (No, the founding
fathers of your university should not have signed a deal with the devil
or whatever they did that keeps causing these unholy things to happen
on your cursed field).
Certainly we must have a word for that nothing we call “luck,”
and that word has to be easy to say, as evidenced by the fact that I simply
cannot convince Mrs. The Red to replace “lucky” with “fortunate
and beneficial happenstance” or even “pleasant coincidence”
in our household, try as I might.
Though it looked nightmarish early in fall camp, it is very good—and
unexpected—that injuries have not been devastating. But don’t
credit the fact that you wore your lucky jersey every day to work to do
your part for the team. Don’t think for a second that no torn ACLs
was simply due to the capriciousness of fate. If Dailey goes down, don’t
blame bad luck. Blaming luck—or any other uncontrollable intangible—is
weakness. A team that finds a solution despite injuries, despite bad officiating,
despite weather, and especially despite things that do qualify as unforeseeable
misfortunes, that is a team that earns its success.
However, the coaches can’t hold the players’ hands all day.
If a freak training-parachute accident can cause a (thankfully temporary)
ankle injury for Lydon Murtha, one would have to think that it’s
at least as possible for a socket wrench to fall from the new stadium
addition frame, bounce off of scaffolding four times, carom off the foreman’s
hardhat once, deflect off a passing skid loader’s bucket, bounce
twice on the sidewalk and wedge itself into the front bicycle spokes of
a passing biker, lodge into the front fork, flipping the rider, Joe Dailey,
face-first into an elm. Therefore, the obvious logical precaution to take
is to cut down all the trees on campus to protect our chances at Kansas
State. Given the QB situation, certainly it is no small comfort that Beau
Davis has occasionally found a rhythm with the receivers, but he’s
still so slight of build that he makes Wil Wheaton look like Hellboy.
All in all, many of the number ones aren’t established yet, and
the two-deep listing is a roster version of Whack-a-Mole.
But this staff should know a little about protecting a QB; after all,
that’s the name of the game in the NFL. Pro teams can only afford
to bankroll one starter-caliber signal caller, and we’ve seen what
usually happens to the team when that guy goes down. So NU fans should
at least rest a little easier knowing that Joe Dailey has a head coach
who has spent the last few years protecting an aging, decrepit, fragile,
quarterback on his previous team. An aging, decrepit, fragile, formerly
curly-haired quarterback. Who wears number 12. And was the league leader
in passing under Callahan.
But luck won’t help the Huskers any more than it will save the Leathernecks.
Lucklessness is a very good thing. No pretenses, no crutches, no excuses.
Time to earn it.