So don’t you feel silly now?
No?
Well, I can’t really blame you. It’s around this time of year that the bad memories start flooding in. If you’re an Alabama fan, you can ignore the banker on this one: November has been the cruelest month is recent years.
The next two weeks will provide a balm to this. Louisiana-Monroe exists specifically to end these types of dry spells, and next week’s contest in the Land that Hygiene Forgot will hopefully end another.
But before we turn our eyes to that, there is this matter of Chris Capps to address.
I’m sorry.
If you have to ask what for, then I thank for following your search results for “German avant-noise pop,” “violence AND Rilke,” or “college ringtones” this far, but you may cease reading further. You’re obviously unconcerned with Alabama football and would not be interested in what follows.
Now where was I? Oh yes . . .
I’m sorry.
There. I said it (twice). If Charlotte Corday can admit she was wrong, then so can I. However, don’t expect me to take a knife to Bob Connelly while he’s soaking in the tub. This thing has limits.
Besides, I should leave that to a Bruins fan now.
Furthermore, don’t think that this amounts to a reverse course. When the Alabama press turned this week’s slew of game articles into a de facto Capps Künstlerroman, none of them nominated him for all-conference honors or said he was the second coming of John Hannah.
But they did say that Capps had been named a team captain by our Great Leader three times this year.
And they also mentioned that despite being benched in this his senior season, he continues to practice hard and prepare as if he were a starter. Furthermore, they also mentioned—
Hell, let the man himself say it:
What happens when that guy goes down and the whole team is counting on you? . . . You don't want to let anybody down.
No, I don’t suppose so. And when you do, that’s a needle in the heart, ain’t it? We’ve all been there, big fella.
And the last thing you need is some jackass with a pill problem and Internet access kicking you while you’re down.
So that stops today.
There is a certain breed of Alabama fan who does not understand economics. This fan is ignorant of supply-and-demand principles and belives dollar values are set, at best, arbitrarily or, at worst, conspiritorily.
To this fan, one Nicholas Lou Saban, the highest paid coach in the history of American collegiate athletics, is in dire need of advice. To this fan, a special teams player is an amalgam of Tim Tebow, Darren McFadden, and Jesus, who should be starting under center and at tailback simultaneously, and a career 54% completion thrower should be lighting up the scoreboard.
This type of fan believes that all that is needed for success on the football field is “want to” and “heart” and things that can’t be quantified like forty-yard-dash times or bench presses.
Talent doesn’t matter, this fan will tell you. All you need is a player who does his best and you’ll win.
Bullshit.
I know we’re a little late in the game for this, Capps, but from henceforth, I’ve got your back.
Now, don’t be a hero or anything. I’m not expecting anything out of you that you don’t already have. Like you said, “. . . go to class . . . show up on time . . . it’s not very hard.”
Even if the suspended linemen don’t come back next week for the Auburn game and you square off against Quintin Groves again this year . . . well, if you do well, I’ll scream my fool head off.
And if history repeats itself?
We know you did your best. That’s all we have a right to ask.
Roll Tide.
