It’s hard to play Tuesday morning quarterback.
What do I say that hasn’t been said about last weekend’s Florida game? It’s been three days since the game, so it’s been dissected from start to finish.
LSU should have won by a lot more than it did.
Then again, LSU would have lost the game if it weren’t for a fortuitous bounce of a ball that was nearly a forward pass.
Even if it were a closer game than needed, LSU wouldn’t have needed to score a touchdown if it weren’t for that stupid two-point conversion failure.
With the win, Les Miles and his coaching staff went from being more hated than BP in Louisiana to being slightly less hated than BP. It’s an improvement, I suppose.
All of these things have been said to some extent. The only thing that we may never fully know is what exactly went on in the minds of the coaching staff when it decided to call that fake field goal.
Can you imagine how that play call even came to be?
Think about it. We all know Josh Jasper can kick a 60-yard field goal if asked. A 53-yarder wouldn’t be that hard.
So why risk it? Why call a fake when you could kick the field goal?
If Jasper misses a field goal, Miles at least won’t have to shoulder all the blame (just the vast majority of it).
If the fake fails, Miles is dead to all Tiger faithful. LSU would lose its undefeated season at the hands of Florida for the third straight year, heads would roll and there would be riots all over Baton Rouge.
If the fake works, they still have to drive the field to score. Miles regains his “Mad Hatter” status, but fans still hate him for doing it.
There was no real way to say going for it would do any good.
This is probably how the call went down, starting from when running back Stevan Ridley lost 2 yards on third-and-1 with the clock running.
Les: “Alright, the clock is stopped, right?”
Crowton: “No! I think we have one of those timeouts left. Maybe we should use it here.”
Les: “No, let it run. Send out the field goal team. Let’s kick it.”
The play clock runs down.
Les: “Timeout! That was a close one. Sorry about that, guys. I certainly wanted to kick the field goal and get the clock stopped, but I didn’t want to waste our timeout, and Sam Montgomery will not play in this game! He was chop blocked!”
Jasper: “Wait. What?”
Crowton: “No doubt.”
Les: “Let’s fake it. I like this team’s chances. This is a hard-nosed bunch of kids. Jasper, run this one into the end zone.”
Jasper: “Coach, I can make this kick.”
Les: “I call bullshit on this team. Run ‘Tiger.'”
Jasper: “Coach, let me kick it.”
Les: “I don’t know if this is such a good idea. Gary, what do you think? Gary? Gary, you there?”
Crowton: “Sorry, Les. I was packing my bags up. Isn’t this game over yet? Have we been fired yet?”
Les: “You know what? Kick the field goal.”
Then special teams coach Joe Robinson was shown on ESPN going over to Jasper. He said something. Here’s what I imagine he said: “Run ‘Tiger.’ I triple dog dare you.”
Jasper: “No, coach. No. You didn’t.”
Robinson: “I did.”
Then Jasper ran over to holder Derek Helton.
Jasper: “He triple dog dared me to run ‘Tiger.'”
Helton: “Crap.”
The triple dog dare. Classic.
Andy Schwehm is a 21-year-old psychology and English senior from New Orleans. Follow him on Twitter @TDR_ASchwehm.
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Contact Andy Schwehm at [email protected]
Schwemming Around: How the call for the fake happened
October 10, 2010