This is one nutty conference.
Only at SEC football media days could the greatest coach in a school's history need to apologize to the school's greatest player. Only in the SEC could it all be about one silly vote for a preseason all-conference team.
Only the What didn't matter.
It was the Who.
Good morning, Gators!
BallotGate has ended with a whiz and a bang. It was not Professor Plum in the conservatory with a rope, or Colonel Mustard in the dining room with a wrench.
It was Uncle Spur Dog, apparently without his reading glasses, at the University of South Carolina - it was Steve Spurrier who didn't put Tim Tebow first on his all-SEC ballot.
It's a funny deal. It would be funnier, only Spurrier, eternally full of fun, looked so sincerely stricken Friday, so humbled - so doddering - as he took the blame, sort of.
"I messed that up," Spurrier said. "I apologized to Tim Tebow. We screwed it up pretty badly. I'm embarrassed about it. I feel bad about it."
Believe him?
Spurrier called it an accident: He said he admires Tebow, but didn't fill out the preseason ballot himself and his director of football operations voted for Mississippi's Jevan Snead, and Spurrier didn't know it until the Tebow snub hubbub broke out, along with a subsequent nationwide manhunt that followed and, and ...
"I didn't sleep a dang last night thinking about it," Spurrier said.
Spurrier went to the SEC and asked to change his vote to Tebow. I think the SEC said OK, Coach, now, while we're doing that, would you like a blanket and a nice glass of warm milk while we take your vote in the coaches poll away?
I'm sure there are lots of you who think Spurrier is a liar. There are probably some in the Nation who think Spurrier has turned lowdown turncoat, though I'd remind them that there was no Nation, or Swamp, until Spurrier's Gators began tearing up the SEC.
I'm going to take Spurrier at his word, though I admit it's hard to believe that a Heisman-winning Florida quarterback wouldn't double-check to make sure a Heisman-winning Florida quarterback was on his first-team ballot.
But I'll believe him. The alternative is too gruesome.
I mean, it was bad enough as it was, Spurrier in front of the cameras, falling all over himself. I felt sorry for the guy. For a second, I thought he'd go apology crazy.
"I also want to say I'm sorry to Coach Fulmer for that 'U and a T' Citrus Bowl joke."
I'll believe Spurrier because I hate the idea that this was him trying to get attention for himself and so-so South Carolina, to stay relevant.
I'll believe him because I think he does admire Tebow and he couldn't be that petty, could he? I'd hate to think this was because of the lashings Tebow and Florida have handed Carolina, or some sort of Sun Tzu art of war gamesmanship, the kind he once loved, the kind that doesn't seem to work with Carolina talent instead of Florida talent. Then again, what did the man have to gain here? What?
I'll believe him because anything else would make him a profoundly sad figure. It made you think back when Spurrier was king. He was the star of the show. Those days are gone. It was hard enough watching him kick that fourth-quarter field goal while getting stomped by Iowa last Outback Bowl. The king was dead. Now he's a punch line.
Asked about new Tennessee coach Lane Kiffin's motor mouth, a contrite Spurrier couldn't even bring the heat.
"I probably said too many things," Spurrier said. "But in life, when you're winning a lot, when you're winning sort of big, you naturally do that. ... And then when you're 7-6, like I am now, you don't have too much to say. I'm a 7-and-6 sort of coach right now."
I'll believe Spurrier if just as a way of saying thanks for all that fun all those years. It beat the heck out of Friday. There was no swagger, just humble apologies from a 7-and-6 sort of coach, up there, bumbling along, so far from his days as king. I miss the old Spur Dog. We might never see him again. Believe it.
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