Robbie Caldwell for president

"Am I really about to turn on my television to watch a replay of one of the most meaningless exercises in existence?"

That's the question I asked myself as the thumb reluctantly hit the power button on the remote control. It was 11 p.m., and there were plenty of better things to do than watch SEC Media Days.

No. 1 on the list: sleep (especially after getting about two hours of it on the night/morning of the Kyle Parker drama).

But a buddy had e-mailed and told me I had to check out this Caldwell guy at Vanderbilt. So the TV flicked on, and within 10 seconds I was thanking myself for doing it.

First of all, the man's 20-gallon-of-syrup thick Southern drawl makes Danny Ford sound like a stuffy sophisticate.

But it goes beyond the accent.

The reason the man got a rousing round of applause after the unfortunate end of his press conference in Birmingham -- a standing ovation from hundreds of grizzled, cynical scribes? Unthinkable and surely unprecedented at this function -- was the product of more than the accent.

The man just wears his heart -- heck, his entire anatomy -- on his sleeve. Right next to the tobacco juice.

Public figures -- coaches, athletes, politicians -- are so guarded these days. And probably justifiably so. The internet has transformed the media cycle from daily to hourly to every single minute. Deadlines have gone from "late tonight" to "right freaking now." So anytime anyone says anything, there's no time to reflect or evaluate context or perspective.

At functions like the one taking place in Birmingham, coaches are paranoid about saying anything that might be remotely controversial. Players are coached by an army of public relations folks who fill their brains with sleep-inducing cliches like "everybody's working hard," "we're going to give 110 percent," "we're just going to take it one game at a time."

The media folks (including yours truly) moan and complain about the pointlessness of these circuses, the buildup for staged news events that usually end up producing very little news. But we share some of the blame, because anytime anyone says anything interesting we blow it up into something beyond what the person uttering it intended.

So in walks Robbie Caldwell, and we all walk away refreshed and reenergized.

Hard to be cynical after listening to this guy talk openly and honestly about topics such as his first job as a turkey inseminator.

Yeah, you read that right.

Hard to moan and complain about the triviality of this exercise after hearing him tell everyone that, a day earlier, he opened the door for someone at a restaurant and received a tip.

Many coaches, for whatever reason, have become too removed and insulated and aloof and arrogant and too filthy rich to remember who they used to be.

Caldwell presents a reminder of what a lot of coaches used to be before their position became more CEO than coach.

More of him, please.

Here's Doc Saturday's take.

But as of Thursday morning, they absolutely love interim coach Robbie Caldwell, whose folksy humor so thoroughly charmed the pants off assembled media at SEC media day in Birmingham that they actually broke Journalism 101 decorum to applaud the performance as Caldwell left the dais. At least one of the group of hardened cynics deemed it "the best press conference in SEC history."

Matt Hayes of The Sporting News gives his take.

Every once in a while we get something so wonderful, so beautifully perfect in its simplicity, it overwhelms the moment.

The million-dollar coaches in the billion-dollar league spent the first two days of SEC Media Days focused on all that's suddenly wrong with college football. And wouldn't you know it, when you least expect it, all that's right comes strolling through the door.

"This is the greatest thrill of my life," Robbie Caldwell says, "other than my child being born."

Finally, some sanity—in a spectacular display of humility and appreciation rarely seen in the coaching profession.

Nick Saban began SEC Media Days calling agents pimps. Urban Meyer spoke of the pressure of his job, and how it nearly drove him to quit. Mark Richt has won 90 games in nine seasons at Georgia, yet has been fielding questions about job security.

And here comes Robbie Caldwell, a 30-year career assistant who was lining the field for a Vanderbilt football camp when he was summoned to an all-staff meeting with Johnson. A couple hours later, he was cleaned up and being introduced as the man in charge.

"I can still walk places and nobody knows me," Caldwell said. "Last night at dinner, I was opening the door for people and they gave me a tip. I thought, hey, that's great. How can you get it any better than that?"

Well said.

Ron Morris of The State also writes about Caldwell, who's from Pageland.

“I’m from New York originally, you can tell by the way I talk,” Caldwell said, introducing himself as Vanderbilt’s head coach. He laughed as he spoke with a drawl true to his Pageland roots.

“No, obviously, I’m a country boy,” continued Caldwell, who took over as interim coach for Johnson nine days ago. “I enjoy my roots. I like to think I’m a humble guy. I try to do what’s right. I’ve told you already I’m not an angel. I wish I could say that, but I got my faults. My wife will tell you. Just ask her. She’ll school you up on it.”

In Chapel Hill, Butch Davis breaks his public silence.

Despite a few verbal hiccups - Davis said his players were excited for the start of "spring" practice - his message came across clear in his first comments to the media since North Carolina acknowledged on July 15 it was being investigated by the NCAA.

"We take a great deal of pride in doing things ethically and honestly," he said at the Triangle Pigskin Preview, which drew about 350 people to the Washington Duke Inn. "Our players were unbelievably cooperative (with the NCAA) and so, we'll get through this as quickly as possible."

Unbelievably cooperative? Is he including Marvin Austin in that category?

Looks like some negative recruiting going on up in New England. A B.C. assistant allegedly told a recruit the UConn staff won't be around much longer.

Jason Whitlock with a savage, foul-mouthed takedown of "Myth Albom."

I'd pay good money to be present when these guys have to sit next to each other at a sporting event.

In the ACC Sports Journal, Part 3 and Part 4 of an in-depth interview with Paul Johnson.

Notable excerpts:

ACCSports.com: You are one of those rare major college coaches who never played football beyond high school. Many think that an odd path. Do you?

Johnson: No, because my plan was to be a high school coach, and there are a million high school coaches who didn’t play in college or weren’t involved in college. And nobody has ever made an issue of it with me. They might have said it behind my back, but I never heard it.

Plus, kids know. When you go out to practice, they know whether you know what you’re talking about or you don’t. Some of the worst coaches I’ve ever seen were the best players, because the game came so easy to them. They couldn’t understand why everybody couldn’t pick it up and throw it 50 yards like they could. Or run 10.8 in the 100 like they could. I don’t think that has a whole lot to do with it.

ACCSports.com: Seems every few months since you got to Tech the critics have seized on some perceived weakness. First, it was that option offense wouldn’t work at the major-college level, or your defenses have never been that good. Then, there were questions about your ability to recruit for your scheme. Are you tired of the naysayers?

Johnson: The big mantra now is the bowl game. We can’t win a bowl game, because the opponent gets extra time to prepare. You’re better off not even responding. I want to say, “What about the three bowl games you lost in a row before I got here? Was that because of extra time?” And those weren’t the Orange Bowl and the Chick-fil-A Bowl. I got a news flash for you: If you’re playing in the Orange Bowl, you’re playing against a good team. You’re not getting the s**t beat out of you by Fresno in Boise.

It’s never going to change. I’ve realized that as I’ve gotten older, that you’re never going to convince some people. Every year will be the year the defenses catch up. “The option is a gimmick. They’re going to catch up.” Sooner or later, you’re going to prove them right. Sooner or later, you’re going to have a down year where you’re not very good, just like any offense.
Last year was the year they caught up to Georgia. So I guess they’re never going to be able to run that offense again. Or Florida. Or whoever. The difference is if Florida loses 14-6, you don’t have 42,000 people saying. “That’s it. That’s the blueprint. They showed how you play it right there.” After a while it gets frustrating, because you’ve done it for so long.

I remember the beginning of last year, coming off the Chick-fil-A loss to LSU. The doubters were saying, “LSU, that’s it, they gave everybody the blueprint. They’ll just play like LSU.” People aren’t worldly enough or sophisticated enough to see everybody lined up the way LSU did. They just didn’t have the same people, and we didn’t play as poorly.

That’s why you play the games. Iowa didn’t do anything different than anybody else in the Orange Bowl. We missed some reads, they whipped our tails up front, and they just beat us. We didn’t make any plays, and they did. And we still had a chance in the fourth quarter. And oh, by the way, Iowa didn’t lose a game last year when they had their quarterback. It wasn’t like we rolled in there and lost to New Mexico State or somebody.

ACCSports.com: You’ve had some run-ins with the Atlanta media in the last two years. Can you talk about the incident that led to the “Johnson says smack them in the mouth” headline in the Atlanta Journal-Constitution that caused such a stir following the Georgia game last fall?

Johnson: The paper sensationalized the whole conversation. We’re getting ready to play Clemson the next week (in the ACC title game). I’m trying to move on. The guy on the radio won’t let me move on.

And finally he gets to it and says, “What do you say to the Tech fans who have to hear about Georgia all year long?” I said, “You know what, they probably gave it to them a year ago, so turnaround is fair play. They have to take it for a year. Move on.” And he follows up, “What if they just won’t stop? What if they keep going on and on?” I said, “Well, if you’ve heard it enough, and you tell them you’ve heard it enough, and they still won’t hush, you turn around and smack them in the mouth.” That was the whole conversation. They left out the first part. The headline says, “Johnson says smack them in the mouth.”

You have to be so guarded as a coach. Another time last fall, we had just beaten Wake Forest, and we had two TV guys and a guy at the paper who wanted to talk to me. It’s a Sunday night. I’m doing them a favor. I don’t have to do it. They can get their quotes after the game or after practice like everybody else. The newspaper guy keeps going on about going for it on fourth down against Wake. “Why would you do that?” Because I thought we could make it. “But why would you do that?” he asked again. I’d just told him I thought we would make it. “Well, even the TV announcer said it was stupid,” he said. And I said, “Why would I care what those morons say?” Headline in the paper is something like, “Johnson calls TV announcers morons.”
When guys do that, I just don’t talk to them anymore.

Hey, at least the guy makes things more interesting in the ACC. Much better than the dry-as cardboard persona of his predecessor.


LW

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