By William Qualkinbush.
Less than a week ago, during his weekly press conference, Alabama’s Nick Saban had a stern message for his fan base. The Crimson Tide were relatively unimpressive in back-to-back victories, and the grumbling had commenced.
Saban’s message was simple. Without directly quoting him, here’s the gist of it: Quit acting like spoiled brats and enjoy a win without treating it like a loss.
Dabo Swinney’s mantra, “The fun’s in the winning,” was put to the test on Saturday. My guess is that fans are more interested in finding places to put blame than about being grateful that the Tigers won a game against a tough Boston College team on the road as only a slight favorite.
It was the kind of game fans of previous Clemson teams learned to lose gracefully. It was the kind of game coaches of the past would have loved to win. It was the kind of game people used to expect from the Tigers—a rough-and-tumble slugfest decided by defensive prowess and offensive opportunism.
Instead, a road win in conference play now seems so empty to so many if the game isn’t decided before halftime. Every punt is indicative of widespread offensive issues that should be treated with a heightened sense of panic. Every touchdown allowed is a scathing indictment on every player and coach, since allowing a touchdown in this wide-open era of college football is apparently some kind of cardinal sin.
There’s no denying this little mini-era of college football—we’ll call it the “Chad Years”—has spoiled Clemson’s fan base rotten. That’s where much of the dissastisfaction originates.
To those upset Clemson didn’t win “a certain way” on Saturday, I have one simple question:
What else did you expect?
We know who Stoudt is by now. We know he is best running the offense at a breakneck pace, simply handing the ball off to tailbacks without many frills and featuring the screen game to set up intermediate throws. We also know he struggles to complete deep balls and tends to hold the ball too long.
We know this offensive line is being held together by a hope and a prayer. The depth that was touted prior to the season is gone, and none of it is a coach’s fault. Debilitating injuries are not a coach’s fault. Suspensions and dismissals are not a coach’s fault (well, technically they are, but not in such a negative context). That’s the story of this offensive line. It’s not a dominant unit, but it does what it needs to do.
Venables has veteran players, but he has to mix in some younger guys. It keeps his unit from experiencing some steep regression at key positions in 2015. We know it’s smart to do this, so why do we question it?
Morris does what he does. We may hate how stubborn he is about it, and we may gripe and complain on principle about his insistence on certain things. We may disagree with some of his philosophies. But after the man resurrected a dead offense four years ago, doesn’t he deserve some benefit of the doubt?
These are things we know, so why do people seem to be pretending we don’t know those things? Why does winning a close game have to be “somebody’s fault”? Why does it have to be a bad thing at all?
Cole Stoudt isn’t Deshaun Watson. Adam Choice and Wayne Gallman aren’t Davis and Spiller. Mike Williams isn’t Nuk, Artavis Scott isn’t Sammy, and the tight ends aren’t all carbon copies of Dwayne Allen and Bennie Cunningham. The offensive line isn’t made up of guys named Bostic or Austin or Richardson.
Chad Morris isn’t Harry Houdini. Brent Venables isn’t the epitome of perfection. Dabo Swinney isn’t Red Auerbach.
Clemson is what it is, no more and no less. The players and coaches have strengths and weaknesses, and chances are that we know a good amount about them.
Having unrealistic fan expectations is absolutely fine, but it should not cause us to suspend rational thought when we analyze a team. The two processes must be separate.
In the end, a Clemson football team increasingly reliant on backup offensive players went on the road in the ACC and won. Not only that, but a Clemson football team who lost one of its two leading rushers, its defensive quarterback, and its top tight end to similar injuries within the course of a game went on the road in the ACC and won.
Dabo Swinney and the rest of the Tigers can smile today because of what they did. They know what they’re up against, and there’s something admirable about overcoming obstacles and doing what you have to do to win in adverse circumstances that resonates with fans.
At least, it used to. Just ask Nick Saban.
God Bless!
WQ