Local knowledge can be both a blessing and a curse. This sounds foolish, but just hang with me.
In golf, local knowledge can mean the difference between taking a shot that works in theory and one that works in practice. In politics, local knowledge affects campaign strategy and can make or break a race within a certain area. Choosing a restaurant, taking efficient driving routes, deciding how to spend free time—local knowledge aids in all of these endeavors.
Local knowledge is actually mostly positive, but I try to stay away from using it when making predictions concerning Clemson athletics. That’s one realm where it can be a double-edged sword.
On one hand, being more intimately familiar with a program can provide answers to questions outsiders are asking. On the other hand, it can lead to the creation of faux solutions to problems when the assumption is that such solutions are present. Listening primarily to uber-optimistic coaches can create this false hope for fans.
When I’m attempting to predict where Clemson falls in a given sport, I try to see the program as the rest of the nation does—including any perceived strengths and weaknesses. I try to begin from that perspective and fill in the gaps over time in a cautious way.
Sometimes, though, local knowledge can change the very nature of news. It helped out yesterday when we heard Korrin Wiggins tore his ACL.
I first saw the news on Twitter. Here were some of the modifiers given to Wiggins: “returning starter”, “starting defensive back”, “nickel back”, “veteran”. These weren’t the only ones, but they get the point across.
Losing Wiggins was a big deal, or so they said.
In this case, “they” also included some local media outlets that haven’t been as present at practice over the past week or so. It was primarily, though, the national pundits who panicked at the notion that a Clemson defense that lost so much last year would lose another returner.
For any other program in the country, I’d agree. Panic should ensue. Worry should plague the fan base. Expectations should reset accordingly.
But look at what’s actually happening at Clemson, and a different picture is being painted as we speak.
Wiggins started at nickel in 2014, but he’s not even working there in camp. He has gotten reps behind Jayron Kearse at safety, while Travis Blanks and Dorian O’Daniel are duking it out for the starting nod at the nickel/SAM slot. Basically, Wiggins’ injury won’t impact the position everyone assumes it will one iota.
The only tangible change will be turning an embarrassment of riches at safety into an above-average collection of mostly experienced players. Untested freshman Jefferie Gibson moves into Wiggins’ slot, but the others at safety—Kearse, Jadar Johnson, and T.J. Green—all boast significant starting experience.
Safety just so happened to be one of the spots on the football field where Clemson could afford some attrition. I think people understand that, but they don’t get that Wiggins is part of that group. They think he’s in the mix at nickel, which is a thinner position group in general.
The national perspective misreads the Wiggins fallout in a way that is easily rectified by applying some local knowledge. It’s a prime example of why being close to a program can’t be totally dismissed.
For fans and onlookers, here’s what the Wiggins injury means: virtually nothing. Obviously, you hate it for any kid who gets injured this way, but the on-field product won’t look much different without Wiggins than it did with him.
If you didn’t sleep well last night because of this injury news, you can relax. Solutions exist nobody knows about—except those of us who show up at practice, of course.
God Bless!
WQ