np_husker
Starter
From journalstar.com - Karl Vogel
Almost two years ago, Nebraska athletic director Steve Pederson walked into a room in the upper reaches of Memorial Stadium and announced he had fired head football coach Frank Solich (who was 9-3 that season and heading toward a bowl game), not because Pederson was upset with the amount of wins or losses that the team was putting up, but rather because of “the overall direction of the program, and where I see it headed in the next five to 10 years.”
Only a second later, Pederson explained his decision by saying, “I refuse to let this program gravitate to mediocrity.”
Flash forward to Nov. 5, 2005, and Nebraska is 10-10 under Solich’s replacement and all of the glory, honor and tradition of the program is now a thing of the past. The streaks of dominance that have come to define this program for nearly a half-century, are now just the things I’m going to have to tell my children and grandchildren about when I try to explain that football in these parts was once something special and that this football program was once one of the premier programs in the history of the game.
It’s not just that Kansas has ended a 36-year drought against Nebraska. It’s not just that the vaunted West Coast offense can’t even hit 200 yards against the Jayhawks.
It’s that this program has done more than “gravitate to mediocrity,” it’s tumbled past medocrity like a man trying to grab a twig as he falls off the side of the Grand Canyon.
When will the offensive line knock somebody down and open a hole for a running back or keep Zac Taylor from getting hit by a pass rusher? When will the defense stop someone? Where’s the bright future? Where are the signs that we can expect anything positive from this football team?
If we, the fans, continue to buy into what has become the Spring Game fashion show for the WCO and expect great things when the team takes the field in the fall, then the university has done its job of persuading us that we should keep buying tickets and lining their pockets even though the product on the field hasn’t for a long, long time now been worthy of the high ticket prices.
Until then, how about a few changes in the way things are done? Replace “Sirius” for the famed Tunnel Walk theme and replace it with the theme song from “Barney and Friends.” It’s at least a lot more apropos for the way this Husker team plays. And if the offensive coaches don’t intend to use the running game the way it was meant to be used (even in the WCO), then why even offer the pretense of putting a running back on the field? Just line up with five receivers on every down and chuck it as far as the quarterback’s arm allows. That couldn’t be any worse than what we’ve seen this season, could it?
If anyone understands what this program means to the people of the state of Nebraska, it should be Pederson, a native of North Platte. He cut his administrative teeth in South Stadium and learned at the feet of Bob Devaney, Tom Osborne, Bill Byrne and “Fox” Bryant. Pederson had to know what all those streaks meant to us. Now, they’re all gone – save the ever-important Memorial Stadium sellout streak that is at 43 years and counting, but it, too, may not have long to live.
Almost two years ago, Nebraska athletic director Steve Pederson walked into a room in the upper reaches of Memorial Stadium and announced he had fired head football coach Frank Solich (who was 9-3 that season and heading toward a bowl game), not because Pederson was upset with the amount of wins or losses that the team was putting up, but rather because of “the overall direction of the program, and where I see it headed in the next five to 10 years.”
Only a second later, Pederson explained his decision by saying, “I refuse to let this program gravitate to mediocrity.”
Flash forward to Nov. 5, 2005, and Nebraska is 10-10 under Solich’s replacement and all of the glory, honor and tradition of the program is now a thing of the past. The streaks of dominance that have come to define this program for nearly a half-century, are now just the things I’m going to have to tell my children and grandchildren about when I try to explain that football in these parts was once something special and that this football program was once one of the premier programs in the history of the game.
It’s not just that Kansas has ended a 36-year drought against Nebraska. It’s not just that the vaunted West Coast offense can’t even hit 200 yards against the Jayhawks.
It’s that this program has done more than “gravitate to mediocrity,” it’s tumbled past medocrity like a man trying to grab a twig as he falls off the side of the Grand Canyon.
When will the offensive line knock somebody down and open a hole for a running back or keep Zac Taylor from getting hit by a pass rusher? When will the defense stop someone? Where’s the bright future? Where are the signs that we can expect anything positive from this football team?
If we, the fans, continue to buy into what has become the Spring Game fashion show for the WCO and expect great things when the team takes the field in the fall, then the university has done its job of persuading us that we should keep buying tickets and lining their pockets even though the product on the field hasn’t for a long, long time now been worthy of the high ticket prices.
Until then, how about a few changes in the way things are done? Replace “Sirius” for the famed Tunnel Walk theme and replace it with the theme song from “Barney and Friends.” It’s at least a lot more apropos for the way this Husker team plays. And if the offensive coaches don’t intend to use the running game the way it was meant to be used (even in the WCO), then why even offer the pretense of putting a running back on the field? Just line up with five receivers on every down and chuck it as far as the quarterback’s arm allows. That couldn’t be any worse than what we’ve seen this season, could it?
If anyone understands what this program means to the people of the state of Nebraska, it should be Pederson, a native of North Platte. He cut his administrative teeth in South Stadium and learned at the feet of Bob Devaney, Tom Osborne, Bill Byrne and “Fox” Bryant. Pederson had to know what all those streaks meant to us. Now, they’re all gone – save the ever-important Memorial Stadium sellout streak that is at 43 years and counting, but it, too, may not have long to live.
