It’s a tough time of year all around. My usual wintertime cocktail of Maker’s Mark and Tylenol Flu is wearing off. And bad news is just around the corner. Following this weekend’s conference championship games, the ramp-up and let-down begins: minor bowl games, major bowl games, BCS bowl games… nothing.
Or worse than nothing, recruiting news. Already, after being left for dead behind a non-existent offensive line versus Auburn, Brodie Croyle has been replaced in the hearts of some fans by the next top prospect yet to play a down. The arm is always golden-er on the other kid.
With a football program like the University of Alabama’s, the question of legacy should be taken seriously. Croyle, due to his father, was already considered one, but what will he leave behind? To some, Our Blessed Saint of Rainbow City is little more than two seasons of broken bones and four Iron Bowl losses. Though reprehensible, there is an appealing binary logic to these types of fans I envy. Winners make everyone beautiful.
Other, more holistic, fans will remember his performance against Florida, his perfect sideline toss in the waning moments of the Tennessee victory, his video game-like numbers against South Carolina. They will remember the bits of the promise fulfilled.
But those seeking an objective correlative to hold their proper metaphor should look before this season to two years ago, when Alabama was at the bottom of the SEC, the bowl possibilities already lost, and Croyle took the field each Saturday wearing a brace that held his left arm to the rest of his body. For that and more he deserves whatever honor he claims.
The boy has suffered enough. I won’t add to it.
Roll Tide.
