Post by elp525 on Dec 27, 2009 10:56:06 GMT -5
December 27, 2009
The Associated Press
By JOE HENDERSON | The Tampa Tribune
Meyer cites health reasons for stepping down.
Even as a child growing up in Ashtabula, Ohio, Urban Meyer was driven. That's the word you hear most often associated with Meyer, along with descriptions like "intense" and "focused" and other ways of saying the same thing. He rose to the top as a college football coach by putting the game ahead of himself, and that was just fine for a while.
We couldn't have known the toll it was taking, though. We couldn't have known that those tears after a loss at LSU in his first season at the University of Florida came from a passion to succeed so deep that it can only be experienced, not explained. We should have gotten a clue when he checked into a hospital after Florida lost 32-13 to Alabama earlier this month in the Southeastern Conference Championship Game.
But we didn't know. Not many people did. The circle of those who truly knew what Urban Meyer's need to succeed was doing to him was small indeed. We didn't find out until at 6:42 p.m. Saturday, when the Gators issued a news release labeled simply, "UF's Urban Meyer Steps Down as Head Football Coach."
He'll explain why today, presumably, when he speaks at a news conference for the Sugar Bowl. The Gators are there for the game Jan. 1 against the University of Cincinnati, and it will be Meyer's final game at Florida. Whether he returns to the sidelines again, well, that's just a guess right now - as is any speculation about who might take his place.
For now, we can only marvel at the footprint he leaves behind and how heavy the weight must have been to make him give up something that a year ago he called "my dream job."
He came out strongly that day to combat rumors that he was moving to Notre Dame. He told reporters, "This is my job. I hope to be here a long, long time."
But in leaving this job, he said, "I have ignored my health for years but recent developments have forced me to reevaluate my priorities of faith and family."
Sports Illustrated reported earlier this month that Meyer suffers from a cyst on his brain. It isn't life-threatening, nor is it cancerous, but it can trigger debilitating headaches. The attacks can be caused by stress.
Coaches like Meyer make bargains with stress. They ignore it, they numb it or they decide it's part of the game and they'll deal with the consequences later. That same Sports Illustrated story by S.L. Price told of Meyer being "nearly knocked unconscious by a blast of pain" while working in 1998 as an assistant at Notre Dame.
Conditions like that can't be willed away, even if something else always seems more important. He apparently had that ingrained from childhood, always pushing for perfection in the classroom and in athletics. His father once made him run home after striking out in a youth league baseball game.
Their house was 8 miles from the ball park.
I met Meyer for the first time not long after he was hired in Gainesville to build the Gators back to glory after the Ron Zook era. It was in the middle of his first spring practice and I was warned not to waste time attempting idle chit-chat. Be on time, I was told. Be prepared. Ask your questions. I had a 15-minute window. I was told not to have any illusion it would last 16 minutes.
Sure enough, Meyer entered his office exactly on time and almost acknowledged my existence. He was professional and accommodating, but I wouldn't call it cordial. At one point he complained, "I'm a lot more concerned with the execution of our third-down offense in last night's scrimmage than I am with this interview."
We shook hands. I thanked him for his time. He was gone, cell phone to his ear.
I remember thinking if he's that way during the middle of spring practice, what must he be like during, oh, LSU week?
"He's 24/7 football," said baseball's Fred McGriff, who got to know Meyer while his son, Erick, was being recruited by the Gators. McGriff also competed against Meyer when both were in the minor leagues. Erick wound up at Kansas, but Meyer left an impression.
"He goes so hard to be the best," McGriff said. "The pressure just mounts on him. You could see it. There are just so many expectations, so much pressure to stay on top."
Maybe that's the only kind of guy who can win two national championships in five seasons. It takes a relentless drive for perfection and a focus that won't let anything else intrude. The problem is, there is more to life than national titles.
The physical and mental demands can eat a body alive, make you old before your time.
Urban Meyer is 45. And after five years and a 56-10 record, two national titles and two SEC championships, he has had enough. We never knew that was possible.
Maybe he'll come back some day, returning to another sideline at another school in search of perfection in his third-down offense. Florida will just find another coach, someone with the confidence to stand in what are now two vast shadows - Steve Spurrier and Meyer.
You'll hear the usual names. Bob Stoops is probably at the top of the list, just like he was when Meyer took the job. Gary Patterson of TCU was just voted national coach of the year. Shoot, Tony Dungy needs a job. But we speculate idly.
For now, it's about the shock of leaving and concern for Meyer's health. It's about looking at a human being instead of a coach who brings pleasure on Saturdays to Gator Nation.
It's about a guy who did his best to hide the things inside him until they couldn't be hidden any more.
The Associated Press
By JOE HENDERSON | The Tampa Tribune
Meyer cites health reasons for stepping down.
Even as a child growing up in Ashtabula, Ohio, Urban Meyer was driven. That's the word you hear most often associated with Meyer, along with descriptions like "intense" and "focused" and other ways of saying the same thing. He rose to the top as a college football coach by putting the game ahead of himself, and that was just fine for a while.
We couldn't have known the toll it was taking, though. We couldn't have known that those tears after a loss at LSU in his first season at the University of Florida came from a passion to succeed so deep that it can only be experienced, not explained. We should have gotten a clue when he checked into a hospital after Florida lost 32-13 to Alabama earlier this month in the Southeastern Conference Championship Game.
But we didn't know. Not many people did. The circle of those who truly knew what Urban Meyer's need to succeed was doing to him was small indeed. We didn't find out until at 6:42 p.m. Saturday, when the Gators issued a news release labeled simply, "UF's Urban Meyer Steps Down as Head Football Coach."
He'll explain why today, presumably, when he speaks at a news conference for the Sugar Bowl. The Gators are there for the game Jan. 1 against the University of Cincinnati, and it will be Meyer's final game at Florida. Whether he returns to the sidelines again, well, that's just a guess right now - as is any speculation about who might take his place.
For now, we can only marvel at the footprint he leaves behind and how heavy the weight must have been to make him give up something that a year ago he called "my dream job."
He came out strongly that day to combat rumors that he was moving to Notre Dame. He told reporters, "This is my job. I hope to be here a long, long time."
But in leaving this job, he said, "I have ignored my health for years but recent developments have forced me to reevaluate my priorities of faith and family."
Sports Illustrated reported earlier this month that Meyer suffers from a cyst on his brain. It isn't life-threatening, nor is it cancerous, but it can trigger debilitating headaches. The attacks can be caused by stress.
Coaches like Meyer make bargains with stress. They ignore it, they numb it or they decide it's part of the game and they'll deal with the consequences later. That same Sports Illustrated story by S.L. Price told of Meyer being "nearly knocked unconscious by a blast of pain" while working in 1998 as an assistant at Notre Dame.
Conditions like that can't be willed away, even if something else always seems more important. He apparently had that ingrained from childhood, always pushing for perfection in the classroom and in athletics. His father once made him run home after striking out in a youth league baseball game.
Their house was 8 miles from the ball park.
I met Meyer for the first time not long after he was hired in Gainesville to build the Gators back to glory after the Ron Zook era. It was in the middle of his first spring practice and I was warned not to waste time attempting idle chit-chat. Be on time, I was told. Be prepared. Ask your questions. I had a 15-minute window. I was told not to have any illusion it would last 16 minutes.
Sure enough, Meyer entered his office exactly on time and almost acknowledged my existence. He was professional and accommodating, but I wouldn't call it cordial. At one point he complained, "I'm a lot more concerned with the execution of our third-down offense in last night's scrimmage than I am with this interview."
We shook hands. I thanked him for his time. He was gone, cell phone to his ear.
I remember thinking if he's that way during the middle of spring practice, what must he be like during, oh, LSU week?
"He's 24/7 football," said baseball's Fred McGriff, who got to know Meyer while his son, Erick, was being recruited by the Gators. McGriff also competed against Meyer when both were in the minor leagues. Erick wound up at Kansas, but Meyer left an impression.
"He goes so hard to be the best," McGriff said. "The pressure just mounts on him. You could see it. There are just so many expectations, so much pressure to stay on top."
Maybe that's the only kind of guy who can win two national championships in five seasons. It takes a relentless drive for perfection and a focus that won't let anything else intrude. The problem is, there is more to life than national titles.
The physical and mental demands can eat a body alive, make you old before your time.
Urban Meyer is 45. And after five years and a 56-10 record, two national titles and two SEC championships, he has had enough. We never knew that was possible.
Maybe he'll come back some day, returning to another sideline at another school in search of perfection in his third-down offense. Florida will just find another coach, someone with the confidence to stand in what are now two vast shadows - Steve Spurrier and Meyer.
You'll hear the usual names. Bob Stoops is probably at the top of the list, just like he was when Meyer took the job. Gary Patterson of TCU was just voted national coach of the year. Shoot, Tony Dungy needs a job. But we speculate idly.
For now, it's about the shock of leaving and concern for Meyer's health. It's about looking at a human being instead of a coach who brings pleasure on Saturdays to Gator Nation.
It's about a guy who did his best to hide the things inside him until they couldn't be hidden any more.
