Braid 'em all, baby. Braid 'em all.

As I watched Syvelle Newton run, throw, juke and jive all across the Williams-Brice Stadium turf on Saturday night, my only thought was this: Why aren’t more of our players braiding their hair?

After a record-setting, 324-yard passing performance, Newton’s woven, intertwining locks have immediately become the most important haircut in South Carolina history, even more important than the unforgettable orange-colored dye job that Strom Thurmond fashioned throughout the 1990’s.

Watching Newton toss bomb after bomb to Troy Williamson, you couldn’t help but think that, like Samson, all of Newton’s powers derive from his hair. I expect to see a lock of Newton’s braids showing up on eBay pretty soon. I know I’d pay at least a C-note for some.

Should we assign a security guard to Newton’s hair at this point? It’s only sensible to do whatever you have to do to protect your assets. Listen, don’t think for a second that Alabama and Tennessee aren’t already thinking about sending someone down to Columbia in the dead of night with a pair of scissors. SEC football is warfare, man.

You might recall that Newton had a sensible, closely cropped cut last year, when Lou Holtz was still clinging to those crazy, ancient notions about having players that "look presentable and professional." You might also recall that Newton spent most of last year on the bench, looking presentable and professional while bouncing around from quarterback to wide receiver. With few opportunities to see the field, Newton made less of a noticeable impact last season than the last couple of Bobby Brown albums.

But during the off-season, Lou let up on all that faux-Lombardi business, and good things began to grow. More specifically, Syvelle Newton’s hair began to grow. So much so that by the time he showed up for the spring game, Newton had achieved a thick afro that would have done Dr. J proud. Anyone know what other quarterback grew an afro during this past off-season? Two words: Michael Vick. I think we can all agree that Newton needs to do whatever Vick is doing in the off-season. If Newton can find a way to start dating Vick’s ex-girlfriends, it can only help the South Carolina program.

Newton tamed the 'fro into a sleek, braided helmet for the actual season, and I think we can now say for certain that the off-season styling worked. And that’s why I am now officially recommending braids for everyone. If I look down on the Gamecock sideline this week and see one single strand of hair that isn’t wrapped and wound, I’m going to be charging the field to find out why. I want to see Noah Whiteside in braids. I definitely want to see place-kicker Josh Brown in braids.

I even want to see receivers coach Rick Stockstill in braids, which will be difficult considering that Stockstill is currently balder than Paris Hilton’s pet chihuahua. Still, any hair that remains on Stockstill’s shiny head must be braided – and it must be braided sooner rather than later. (And by the way, has Stockstill gotten the job done so far or what? I noticed a funny thing during the Vandy game: Our receivers were actually catching footballs that were thrown directly to them. It kept happening during the next two weeks, too. At this point, I’m not even sure how to react to caught passes, because I’d gotten so used to guys swatting at the ball like they were trying to kill dragonflies.)

Forget offensive and defensive coordinators: The most important person in the game-planning process this week is the Gamecock team barber. Did you see what Newton did last Saturday? It defied logic. There can’t be any other explanation for it other than the braids. That and the fact that he was facing South Florida’s defense. I don’t want to say South Florida’s defensive backs were slow, but some of them would have trouble outrunning a parked car. Did you see those poor fellas trudging along 15 yards behind a streaking Troy Williamson? I haven’t seen that much huffing and puffing since Oprah Winfrey tried to run a marathon a few years ago.

See, that’s the bad news here. It would be nice if we could go ahead and grant "savior" status to Newton. It would be nice because the guy’s just so cool, and all things considered, saviors should be cool.

But we can’t. Not yet anyway. That’s because we don’t yet know what Newton can do against SEC-caliber competition. We don’t know how he’s going to react when he throws a critical interception, don’t know whether he’ll fold the tents when things start to get ugly or rally the boys around him like the great ones are supposed to do. This early, after Game 3, we don’t yet know how much magic the braids have in them.

I’ve found myself stuck in an odd, unsettling limbo since I left the stadium the other night. I want to give my heart and soul to Newton, but I’m not sure I should yet, because the affair might be unrequited in the end. I think he might be the answer, but then again, I’m not even sure what the actual question is. It’s like that brief pause right after you ask a girl to the prom, when you don’t yet know what she’s going to say. You think you really want her to "yes," but if she ends up saying "no," well ... maybe that’s what you really wanted after all. OK, now I’m beginning to get confused.

Anyway, here’s what we do know: Newton can throw the ball deep. We stretched the field like the elastic waistbands on Bill Clinton’s shorts last Saturday. Newton and Williamson hooked up more often than reality TV stars with a hot tub nearby. I wasn’t even aware that a South Carolina team was legally allowed to throw a football farther than 15 yards. This was like watching everything you thought to be true in life disintegrate right before your eyes. I’m still in shock.

From what I could gather by listening to the post-game call-in shows, most of you were in shock, too. Some interesting claims were made about Syvelle Newton during these shows, including suggestions that Newton could defeat Arnold Schwarzenegger in an arm-wrestling contest, that he has developed a cure for the common cold, and that he was last seen ascending into the clouds above Williams-Brice after the game ended.

That’s why I want to ask all of you to do me a favor (and I’m talking to myself here, too): If it eventually turns out that Newton can’t cure the common cold or ascend into the clouds, don’t turn on him just because you put all of your hopes and dreams for our program onto his shoulders. I remember the last time another funny, interestingly coiffed quarterback burst onto the scene at South Carolina. His name was Steve Taneyhill, and after he raised his arms in victory to the marmalade-colored masses at the University of Lake Hartwell, we all thought a Taneyhill statue should be erected on the grounds of the South Carolina Statehouse.

By the end of the next season, a 4-7 debacle that sent Sparky Woods packing, fans were openly calling for Taneyhill’s backup and even letting a few scattered boos fly whenever he did anything other than complete a 30-yard pass. Didn’t matter that our defense was just a rumor during the years that Taneyhill played for us.

So let’s try to hold our horses. And whatever happens, let’s never forget how cool Syvelle Newton seems right now, right at this very moment, with the braids flapping under the helmet, the passes zipping downfield and nothing but sunshine on the horizon.

There’s no need to go overboard with this thing. But still, Lou, if we could get the whole team braided ASAP, I’d feel a whole lot better.