“Pain”

Down. And out.

A post about the University of Miami football program.

Remember that part in “The Perfect Storm” when Diane Lane and George Clooney share one last moment on the dock before the former sends her husband off to sea for the final time?

You knew then how it would all turn out: in tragedy, misery, suffering, helplessness and despair.

I think I’ve hit just about every emotion conveyed (or outright name-checked) in Monday’s dueling Core Team email threads – the ones inundating my inbox in the immediate wake of Miami’s way-worse-than-the-scoreboard loss to the impotent UVA Cavaliers on Saturday.

One subject header reads, simply, “Pain,” the other “All Is Not Lost,” in an optimistic, though futile, attempt to correlate a potential 6-loss season with the hiring of either TCU’s Gary Patterson or Stanford’s Jim Harbaugh.

I don’t see why either of these coaches would take lesser jobs at the Program Formerly Known as The U – unless they want to head an inferior team for inferior pay – but speculating on a new hire at this point is a lot like talking cheeseburger and milkshake when your hopelessly wasting away on an undetected desert island.

So going back to my original metaphor, I knew this program was headed for shipwreck when Bret Bielema’s lumbering Big 10 middleweight beat the hell out of us in last year’s Name That Bowl Game and I knew it, too, the moment Randy Shannon lapsed into catatonic trance at the prospect of end-of-game clock management in the PineNutsDotCom Bowl the year before.

The analogy is exactly the same – from the sick feeling in my [Lane's] gut, to the hardheaded hubris of the people steering the ship, right down to the fact that neither George Clooney nor Randy Shannon can coach a football team.

The obligatory "Randy looking confused" picture

The Hurricanes are now 5-3 on the year with four of these wins coming to teams with a combined .500 record (16-16) and the other coming to a Subdivision opponent known primarily for their marching band. The three losses, similarly, have been ones of the worst sort – lopsided and humiliating. And as bad as the multiple-touchdown ass-kickings to Ohio St. and FSU, Saturday’s no-longer-historic meltdown was, to this civilian casualty, the worst of all.

Nevermind that Virginia is one of the most feeble teams in the FBS (wins against Richmond, VMI, Eastern Michigan… and Miami) or that the program hasn’t been particularly relevant at anything since the first Reagan term. I’m more upset, per usual, by how we lost: undercut by Pop Warner-caliber tackling, embarrassed at both lines of scrimmage, unable to stop a 3rd-and-1, and penalized multiple times by our undisciplined fatf*cks up front.

Experts say games are one and lost in the trenches. I believe them.

Now Jacory’s hurt – out with a concussion after a run-in with a San Quentin prison break (I mean, the UVA pass rush). And to you who say that his injury should buy Shannon another year to prove himself, I counter that building your team around a 6’4″, 165-pound QB is no different than erecting a fortress from plywood. In no way is it surprising that J-12 finally gave out – Saturday was an end to prolonging the inevitable. What is surprising is that we have a guy on our team who’s even worse!

That Spencer Whipple rose to No. 2 on the depth chart is nepotism at its finest. I was sure I’d never see a more pitiful display under center than future tight end Buck Ortega’s infamous three-play shot at glory some six years ago.

I was wrong.

I thought about attempting to organize some kind of unofficial Shannon/Whipple/Shalala boycott. I really did. I also thought about putting in my formal resignation to the Core Team. Something plain and short. Something to the effect of “I don’t have time for this bullshit.” And as far as that group is concerned, I wouldn’t be the first.

I’m still waiting patiently on my father’s protest letter to President Shalala, but at this point I find it hard to believe that he could still care so much. I, for one, really don’t have the will or energy to do anything other than hop on a few message boards, bang out a deflated rant and prep my facade of interest for the next impending debacle.

Back in February after a typically cynical discussion with my father, I wrote a post entitled Mediocrity: It’s a ‘Cane Thing. Since then, things have deteriorated immeasurably.

This is miserable.

Shannon is a sobering 23-20 against FBS competition since replacing secret-genius-in-comparison Larry Coker in 2007, which is startling in itself, but even more so considering the school hasn’t dealt with any issues that normally derail major programs. No NCAA sanctions. No recruiting violations or cheating scandals. We’re not USC or SMU. We’re just a one-time worldbeater that somehow found a way to turn a Whole Foods worth of produce into a tasty shit sandwich.

We’ve shot ourselves in the foot. And now it seems we’re content to let the body bleed out.

- Robbie