Scott Davis: Sorry, America, We Won
GamecockCentral.com columnist Scott Davis, who has followed USC sports for more than 30 years, provides commentary from the perspective of a Gamecocks fan. You can follow Scott on Twitter at @scdonfire.
Around 7:30 pm on Thursday night, one thing had become abundantly clear: I wanted to win.
Badly.
Despite spending the entire off-season telling friends and family that I was entering the season without expectations, and despite proclaiming over and over again that I planned to “just watch the games, let it play out and hope we progress by season’s end,” and despite saying stuff like “let’s just get these young guys some experience, keep recruiting and lay a foundation for 2017 and beyond,” I was starting to crack.
I’d eaten roughly 80,000 slices of sausage-pepperoni pizza and nervously guzzled two beers at an Atlanta Mellow Mushroom within 30 minutes of kick-off. I briefly pretended to listen to my wife talk about her day while we ate, then just stopped pretending and started gazing into the distance. If someone had offered me a cigarette at that moment, I wouldn’t have just smoked it – I’d have eaten it.
I wanted to win.
Also see: A quarter-by-quarter breakdown of how many snaps each Gamecock player took against Vanderbilt
I always want to win when the Gamecocks are playing football, but for some reason, on this day, in this game, with Will Muschamp leading the boys in garnet and black onto the field for the first time, I really wanted to win.
I wanted to win just to shut everyone else the (bleep) up.
See, by game day, the odds makers in Vegas had moved longtime juggernaut Vanderbilt up from a 3 ½-point favorite over South Carolina to a 5-point favorite.
The drumbeat from media “experts” sounded loudly throughout the day: The Gamecocks would lose to the Commodores in Nashville, perhaps in embarrassing fashion.
The SEC Network’s collective response to South Carolina’s chances in 2016 may as well have been a clip of the hosts cackling into the camera. You know the drill: “There’s just no talent on that South Carolina roster,” “Will Muschamp? Really????”, “Where are the playmakers on this Gamecocks team?” and blah blah de frickin’ blah.
Bleacher Report’s Barrett Sallee eloquently opined that “the ‘Dores will boat-race South Carolina in the opener.” (Just a tough day all around for Sallee, who also predicted that Tennessee QB Josh Dobbs would mount a Heisman campaign this year, only to watch Dobbs turn in his worst game in a Vols uniform against a Sun Belt Conference team on Thursday).
ESPN’s Travis Haney liked the Commodores by a stout 10 points and predicted them to go bowling this season, Tweeting, “In short, Vandy is better. SC is not.”
The low point came when Will Harris, writing for ESPN.com, suggested that South Carolina would battle Kansas this season for the right to be named “the worst Power 5 team in college football.”
Fun stuff, huh?
Unfortunately for the media, the gambling public, and pretty much the entire United States of America, Earth, the solar system and the stars above, South Carolina did what it almost always does against Vandy on Thursday night, and that’s win a football game.
As I wrote earlier in the preseason, my problem wasn’t that the media largely predicted a Vanderbilt win or that the general consensus was that we’d struggle this year. Those aren’t even remotely outrageous opinions. I too had doubts we’d beat Vandy on the road in the season’s first game with a brand new coaching staff and a busload of young, unproven players.
My problem was with the tone of the coverage, with the idea that it would be downright shocking – SHOCKING! – if USC won in Nashville or stumbled into six wins this season. Because anyone who follows this team on even a semi-regular basis knows that there are some talented players on the roster.
True, many of them are young. True, depth is thin almost everywhere. True, we’re still finding out who Muschamp is as a head coach.
But no talent? Not hardly.
Nervous Energy
I woke up Thursday morning thinking that my mental state was still sound. I wasn’t going overboard this time. I wasn’t “READY FOR SOME FOOTBALL!!!!!!!” in all-caps. I was calmly and pleasantly looking forward to some football.
Or so I thought.
Slowly, it began to dawn on me that I might indeed be “READY FOR SOME FOOTBALL!!!!!” and perhaps so ready for it that I briefly contemplated running laps around my neighborhood for no apparent reason. Here’s a quick synopsis of my day leading up to the game:
7 a.m. – Wake up, cook myself a sausage biscuit and then eat that sausage biscuit. Mmmm, pork. Suddenly remember that I’m married, and frantically make my wife a sausage biscuit before she comes downstairs. Appear to be thoughtful, loving husband when she happily accepts her biscuit.
8 a.m. – Try to avoid overdosing on Gamecock Central news, notes and message boards this early in the day. Scroll Twitter instead.
8:01 a.m. – Ban myself from Twitter for the day since every single thing I see on the screen suggests mighty Vanderbilt will roll up South Carolina tonight.
8:02 a.m. – Check watch to see exactly how many minutes are left before kick-off.
9 a.m. – Try watching TV to take my mind off what’s ahead.
9:01 a.m. – Ban myself from watching the SEC Network, or as I like to call it, the “South Carolina? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA” Network.
9:02 a.m. – Give in to the siren call of Gamecock Central.
10 a.m. – Gorge on an entire bag of Doritos.
10:30 a.m. – Stop by bathroom and give long, serious consideration to throwing up.
11 a.m. – Is it too early to crack open a Bud Light at this point? Yes. Yes, it is.
Noon – Eat a turkey sandwich and an entire bag of Ruffles.
12:30 p.m. – Listlessly watch the Weather Channel since I know no one will discuss the USC-Vandy game there.
1 p.m. – Give even longer, more serious consideration to throwing up.
2 p.m. – Make the executive decision to watch a Humphrey Bogart marathon on Turner Classic Movies because 1940s black-and-white movies soothe my soul. Here’s looking at you, Gamecocks.
3 p.m. – Still too early to crack open a Bud Light.
3:15 p.m. – Crack open a Bud Light.
4-6 p.m. – Stare at the ceiling from the couch and occasionally talk to my dog, who offers little to no moral support.
7 p.m. – Meet my wife for dinner and eat more pizza than the entire cast of “Goodfellas.”
7:45 p.m. – Throw up.
Game Balls All Around
If you’ve been a longtime reader of this column, you know that I typically hand out game balls to worthy winners after Gamecock games (as well as Deflated Balls to the unworthy). In the past, I called these the “Pharoh Cooper Large Pepperoni Pizza with Extra Cheese” Game Balls, since I deeply enjoyed Cooper and would rank pizza just behind my wife, family and dog in a list of things I love. Now that Cooper is wearing a Los Angeles Rams uniform, I’ll need a new name.
For this week only, I’m handing out the “Elliott Fry Guts of a Samurai” Game Balls to the following lucky recipients:
ELLIOTT FRY!!!! – Who has the guts of a samurai. When it became clear that Fry was going to have to nail a 50-plus yarder to put the Gamecocks ahead in the closing seconds, I started murmuring things like, “It stinks to have to put him this position. He’s been so great for us and the haters will attack him when he doesn’t come through even though this is an absurdly difficult kick.”
“Relax, he’ll make it,” my wife said from the couch.
I started pacing. “It’s just too much to ask of him. He’s never made one as long as 55 yards before. I hate this for him.”
Then Fry drilled it, dead-solid perfect, at a length that would have been good from 65 yards.
As the Gamecocks celebrated, my wife glared at me with a look that was more “You’re an idiot” than “I told you so,” and I was left to quietly repeat meaningless phrases like, “Well he hit that one crisply. Hit that one crisply.” Thanks for giving my wife just one more reason to think I’m an absolute fool, Elliott.
Sean Kelly – Nice night for Gamecock kickers. Kelly had ample opportunities to punt the football, unfortunately, and aside from an early mishit, he boomed the ball throughout the game, keeping the ‘Dores from establishing momentum with field position.
A.J. Turner – Few expected Turner to ascend to the starting running back role back during spring practice, but by August, Muschamp had declared the redshirt freshman “was separating himself” from the competition. He showed why on Thursday, with 70 yards on 13 carries to go along with three receptions.
Bryan Edwards – Another freshman standout, Edwards did Alshon Jeffery things against Vandy, with eight catches for a staggering 101 yards. For a long stretch, Edwards essentially was the offense. There was also a leaping grab near the sidelines that had a whiff of Sidney Rice to it. Wait, I thought there were no playmakers on this Gamecocks roster, right?
My Old College Roommate and Brother-in-Law for Being Just as Nervous During this Game as I Was – I exchanged texts with these guys throughout the game, and they were struggling just as spectacularly as I was. My old USC roommate began questioning the offensive playcalling with around 14 minutes and 52 seconds left in the first quarter. My brother-in-law wondered why all of our players looked tiny. I openly doubted Fry’s ability to hit the game-winner. Ah, it’s great to have the gang back together!
My Dad for Attempting to Usurp My Role as the Fretful, Slightly Negative Gamecock Fan – Ever the positive influence, my Dad always sends me an upbeat, glass-half-full text after every game, win or lose. It’s right up there with death and taxes. Shockingly, he remained silent after Thursday’s contest, failing to text me and only responding to a group text started by my uncle, in which he halfheartedly tried to suggest that a win was a win “even when they’re not pretty.” Sorry, Pops, there’s only room for one Fretful, Slightly Negative Fan in this family, and I’m that guy. Nice effort, though.
The Defensive Coaches for Trying Things to Actually Generate a Pass Rush and for Not Requiring the Secondary Players to Hang Back a Mile From the Line of Scrimmage Resembling Department Store Mannequins – That was kind of refreshing.
My Wife for Turning the Tables on Me – I’d spent the entire off-season staying positive while my wife openly questioned Muschamp’s hire and declared herself relatively unenthusiastic about the season. Then the actual games got here, and I immediately morphed back into Complaining, Frustrated Dude, and she calmly flipped the switch over to Angelic Voice of Reason. How did that happen, and happen so quickly? “I’m putting up our Gamecock flag and door ornament outside,” she told me just before kickoff. “What?” I gasped. “Don’t you just want to wait and see how we look before we embarrass ourselves in front of the neighbors?” We have an annual tradition of giving each other a quick smooch after we score touchdowns, but I declined to do so after we tied the game at 10-10, feeling too wound up in knots to think about kissing my betrothed. When I attempted a kiss after the game, she wisely rejected me. “Don’t bother kissing me now,” she said. Solid beatdown by her.
I could hand out a few Deflated Balls if I felt the need (1st Quarter Offensive Line Nightmares, Penalties, Dropped Passes Upon Dropped Passes, My Ridiculous Nervous Behavior), but let’s celebrate this one for now.
After all, we weren’t supposed to win this game.
Now let’s see if we can go win some other games we’re not supposed to win.
