Little Boy Coaches?

I had a lot of driving time today, and a conversation on the radio about who should be coaching the Redskins sparked something in my mind. The thought was sort of convoluted, so, you'll have to kinda stick with me. Over the weekend, I saw some Bengal's highlights. I kinda have a soft spot for them, as I caught and episode or two on Hard Knocks this summer. That and the brothers Palmer are bus-driving that team. The lesser Palmer brought UTEP to the spotlight a few years back, when Coach Price took over a program in desperate need of attention. Anyhow, I realized Cedric Benson plays with the Bengals. I forgot about that...You all may remember Cedric and I are cousins. Yep, football cousins. He and I share the same high school football coach. I say share because, though it's in the long past, it can never change. So, I'll use present terms since Cedric and I are still alive. What?Anyway, Coach Parchman was his name. Coach Parchman was what I call, vintage coach. He was the second generation in this coaching progression I'm about to discourse on. Coach had a huge belly, maybe mostly beer, and a rather dry, angry disposition. Even in our little part of Texas high school football in Socorro, Coach waddled around the field slowly, with a straw hat and dark shades. My fondest memory of him was once during two-a-days watching him -- literally -- laid on his side in the middle of the field, whilst we ran wind sprints, puking and gagging for air. During games, Coach never wore a headset (a key in his generation). He screamed at everyone, and everybody was morbidly afraid of him.

No, Cedric did not play at Socorro High School. He did, however, play at Midland Lee, where he and Coach Parchman won three straight state 5A titles. In Socorro, the closest Coach Parchman got to the tournament was reading about it in the papers, but once he landed the gig in Midland, he became a rock star, along with Cedric.

For you non-Texans, I’m going to give you perspective on Texas high school football. In those days, we (Socorro Bulldogs) played on grass in front of aluminum bleachers with a half-lit scoreboard. El Paso is the fourth largest city in Texas (about 600,000 in those days); so, talent was pretty well spread and hard to get. Midland is in the middle of Texas, thus the name – maybe. There is nothing to do in Midland (probably 80,000 in those days) but drill for oil and go to high school football games. So, Midland boasted a concrete stadium, complete with artificial turf and digital scoreboard. Yeah, Coach Parchman got a huge promotion; raise and I don’t think he even had to teach in Midland.

I can already tell this is going to be way longer than I intended.

Jim Zorn is in dire straights in the Danny’s World. The assumption was made this morning on sports radio that little Danny Snyder, who has the patience of Jerry Jones, will be making a coaching change soon, if not sooner. The host said, “He needs one of the visor coaches,” a term I claim to have copyright on, but alas. The visor coaches refer to the breed -- clad in visor -- the likes of Jon Gruden, Sean Payton, et al. These are usually former quarterback coaches, who didn’t quite make it in the pros, but visualized complex offensives schemes and took the spread offense to new heights.

The way I see it, you had the Tom Landry’s of the world. The pioneer coaches, dressed in a suit, walking up and down the sidelines on Sunday afternoon, usually subdued and cool. Then came the big-bellied, screaming coaches, perhaps with John Madden paving the way. Like the pioneers, they didn’t all wear headsets – yet – like the pioneers, trusting assistants were doing all they could do. This brand of coach was varied somewhat by the likes of Don Shula and Bill Walsh, and perhaps a start to the visor era.

The visor era brought an intellectual side to head coaching and youth. These guys came with thick, complex offensive playbooks, and often ran offensives before being given the gig of leading an NFL team. The brand of coaching was exciting and my favorite until…

What do we make of Josh McDaniels?

Have you seen this coach? He is known around these parts as Little Belichick, as he took Coach Weis position with the Patriots before taking over as head coach for the Broncos.

He looks like he’s 15 and should be learning to drive, not running a National Football League team.

But, he’s 5-0.

Is this the new generation of coaches? I guess we’ll soon find out.

Well, the 2008 world champion of poker is only 22.

Clausen and Weis -- Can we believe?

Friends,First of all, I didn't save this year. You -- or, y'all -- did. If anything, the only thing I've done is getting my azz in gear. Pardon the French, s’il vous plait?

This is your league. I'm here to serve.

Secondly, in the spirit of encompassing all suggestions you gave me, reflection, rally, survival, etc., the word "perseverance" kept circling. We're going to go with that.

I couldn't sleep much last night. I think I might have logged in 40 minutes, if that -- all night. I had some worries with my daughters, but more than that, I was not sure I could give Clausen (QB for Notre Dame) my full respect -- yet. Why you ask?

It all started with a chick flick and some wine. Last night, after a one-sided (and not to my side) agreement with Mrs. Commish about TV rights, I was able to watch most of the end of the Notre Dame game. The pay-off to her, you ask? I had to watch a DVD with Matthew McConauhey. The picture is something about ghosts and girlfriends. Same drill. He's the guy all women want, but his heart belongs to one. The only positive in this movie is Michael Douglas has a part in it. He saves the movie, in a way. Anyhow, it was brutal. And I know Mssrs. Messer, Dean, Hopkins and others are LOLing as they read this. It's all right men. I know you do it, too.

I know a lot of you hate the Irish, but bear with me. Texas beat UTEP 64-7. Nothing remotely interesting to talk about there. Iowa won big at Penn State. Congrats to T-Bone and his alma mater! Tebow got hammered. Wow! Poor kid. There is a moral to this story.

So, again, the Irish are not winning as I turn to ESPN. Their foe? Purdue's Boilermakers, a moniker they've had to live with since 1891. They barely won the Michigan State game. They lost in the Big House. Their only convincing game was against Nevada, but that was expected. Them not winning 35-0 over Nevada would have been like the Cowboys losing their last game ever at Texas Stadium last season.

Oh wait...

I don't like -- and never have -- Clausen. I don't care how many state titles he won in California -- he would not be my choice. But, Coach Weis chose this kid. I mean, he's a good-looking kid, and his parents moved from the West Coast to South Bend to see their boy play, but still not my choice. C'mon coach! He's not Tom Brady or Brady Quinn!!!

So, for two long seasons I've been waiting for a reason to keep watching the Irish, my "closet attraction." I've been waiting for the magic, though last night was looking like a failed attempt. Clausen fell victim to Deion Sanders' namesake injury here in the Chicken Fried Nation-- turf toe. So, he was out a good part of the game.

I got my reason last night, sort of. The Irish were trailing 21-17 with less than four minutes on the clock. Coach Weis had been playing the backup QB, not wanting his golden boy to play in the second half. But, like many football movies and last-minute heroics we hear so many times, Clausen told Weis, "Put me in Coach!" At least, that's the way I'm going to imagine it. And, he did.

Clausen and the Irish drove down to the 4. But, something happened that kind of puts a damper on this Weis-Clausen love affair. The Irish had no time outs, and the clock had less than 30 tics. Instead of Purdue allowing the clock to keep ticking, hastily forcing the Irish to spike or make an offensive mistake, Purdue's head coach makes the mistake, one he won't soon forget.

He calls a time out.

This gives the Irish plenty of time to decide on a play. The men in the booth took this to the bank! "What's he doing?!" Apparently the time out was for personnel changes on defense, to insure the game.

Guess what?

The large-waist-never-played-no-football genius with the Notre Dame coach's polo shirt had extra seconds to plot with his boy. So, finally, Clausen, a-la-John Elway fires left, on a quick out. Irish score. Irish win.

Barely. Again.

I enjoyed the win. Don't get me wrong. I know a win is a win. But, I am still not sure without that time out on Purdue's behalf they would have won. I just don't know, and at this point never will.

Shistekovich! This is Bootleggers word, by the way.

Yours truly, and still doubting,

Commish