Three semi-believable takes on Urban

After the obligatory game of will-he-or-won’t-he, Urban Meyer will be the next head football coach at Ohio State University. Shocker, right? His decision to forgo early retirement and get back into the saddle—err, horseshoe—is being met with mixed emotions. To properly gauge the state of the college football union, we’ve checked in with a few Loose Balls correspondents. First up, from Gainesville, Fla., we have Albert.

OK, Big Al, the floor is yours…

Albert: Hey Urb, just wanted you to know that you’re no better than that turd from Tuscaloosa, Nick Saban. Actually, “The Nicktator” may have even had more tact than you, ya two-faced sonuvabitch. Weren’t we supposed to grow old together? I mean, come on, weren’t your six years in the Swamp, the best of your life? OK, I got that off my chest. Urb’s tenure was sublime, really. Nothing could replace those two national championships, but this wasn’t the way it was supposed to turn out. When he ditched Utah, it was supposed to be for a final coaching destination. After the first flip-flop in 2009, though, I started to have second thoughts. People outside the Gator Nation kept telling me Urb was being a prima donna, that his indecision about his future was Favre-esque. I couldn’t listen to them. It had to be more than that; it had to be his desire to have peace of mind. When he stepped down, I assumed he would be gone for a significant amount of time. After all, wasn’t the grind of a major college program too much to stomach? But, no, he’s already back, and with Ohio St., the program we throttled for the first championship. The grass isn’t always greener on the other side. No way he’ll have the same success up there. Here’s to years of heartache in Columbus, Urb!

Whoa, whoa. Someone sound like a jilted lover. It’ll be alright, Alberto. The Will Muschamp era has just begun! Oh, wait, that’s right, it’s off to a bit of an inauspicious start; something about an awful offense and no quarterback.

ANYWAY, back to our other Urban correspondent, Bro Buckeye…

Bro: Say it with me, “O-H-I-O, O-H-I-O, Ohiiiiiiiio.” Yeah, suck it, Gator Nation, because there’s no nation like the Buckeye Nation. You know what this means, right? We’re back! Sure, Michigan may bragging rights this year, but it was just a momentary setback. Coach Meyer is bringing back a few championships to C-Bus, and it won’t be long before people start uttering Urban in the same breath as Woody around here. Tressel was great, but Urban beat SEC schools on a week-to-week basis.  He’s going to bring some Florida speed and that whacky spread offense to the B1G. Watch out, things are about to get real. Can’t wait to see Braxton do work next year, son. Those punks up at that school in the North think they have turned the tide. Do they really think Meyer-Hoke will be like Woody-Bo? That’s just an Urban legend. Another ten-year war, my ass. Urban’s going to have them singing “Carmen Ohio” from sea to shining sea. Can’t wait to see Coach Meyer tomorrow’s basketball game against Duke. It’s going to make the Miami Heat’s Welcome Party look harmless. YES. WE. DID. URBAN!!!!!!!!!!!!

My take: Slow down there, Bro. No reason to get premature with those wild expectations. Meyer, however, will be really successful at Ohio St. It’s kind of a perfect storm, really. He’ll bring some athletes up from Florida, play that crazy spread, maybe even find a new messianic figure to stick behind center. Watch out, though, Buckeyes. You’re hiring Larry Brown 2.0. He’s never going to be comfortable in one place for more than a few years. Ohio St. is Meyer’s fourth stop in a decade, and you know it won’t be his last. After a modicum of success in Columbus, he’ll be gone, off to the next stop, wherever that may be. Dick Vermeil he is not. For Meyer, coaching is a drug. He’ll never be able to kick it. So he’s back, Ohio St, and it’s going to be a successful few years. But something else will call eventually. Coaching Touchdown Timmy in the NFL, perhaps? 

Elephants and jackasses: The political overtones of the NBA's 'nuclear winter'

Derek Fisher is not Oscar Robertson. Billy Hunter is not Jerry West. This is not going to be some historical labor milestone; it’ll be a time remembered—or maybe forgotten—for ineptitude and indifference. What players will characterize as a momentous stand against unrelenting owners, really, is just a sign of the times. You know, the whole protesting and being a part of a transcendent political moment thing. But, sorry, the times, they’re NOT a-changin.’

In 1964, facing untenable labor conditions, a group of players, led by Robertson and Elgin Baylor, threatened to walkout and not play the all-star game if the owners didn’t reassess the players’ plea for a pension system.

Unsurprisingly, the owners were furious. This, of course, was during a time where there was an actual racial component to labor discussions, not the forced “plantation” references that are thrown around loosely today. As a blizzard was howling outside the Boston Garden, things became increasingly icy inside.

But, really, Walter Kennedy, the NBA’s president—the forerunner to commissioner—had no leverage. This was one of the league’s first nationally televised games, an opportunity to gain support and begin competing for advertising dollars. If he did nothing, the league would lose much-needed credibility.

Because of this, Kennedy gave in and the players’ demands were eventually met. Less than a decade later, Robertson was headlining a piece of legislation that would totally rewrite free-agency rules; players could now negotiate with other teams, causing a major spike in the player salaries, in the process.

But what about today? Are we really debating anything that’s game changing? No, it’s nothing more than a few petty disagreements over system issues.

You say tomato; I say tomahto…Of course, instead of realizing this will be the best deal they’ll get, the NBAPA is calling the whole thing off.

There has been no attempt—especially from the owners—to have a healthy discourse about system issues until recently. Why did it take until the late-October for the owners to offer a semi-reasonable deal? Why is the NBAPA dissolving its union now?

It’s simple, really. Each side is stuck in its ways, and neither one is going down without a totally unnecessary fight. It’s Capitol Hill meets the hardwood, which is something David Stern probably doesn’t want to create an ad campaign around, I’d imagine.

But for now, there is no ‘amazing’ in sight; it’s the NBA: Where Filibuster Happens.

Whether you feel that the owners’ ultimatum/offer was fair is pretty insignificant, at this point. More than likely, you probably thought the players made an acceptable amount of concessions, and the owners’ last offer was enough to get the players out of Kangaroo Court and on the basketball court.

But, really, at this point, it’s not about what’s fair or foul; it’s about smart and stupid, and the players’ decision to leave this offer on the table was the latter.

I’m not necessarily suggesting it was a fair deal, but it was the best they’d ever get. There’s some recent historical precedent for this, too. Given another opportunity, I’d bet that Hunter would take one of the initial incarnations of the eventual deal he signed in 1999. Bill Guerin, one of the NHL players’ leading voices during the 2004-2005 lockout, has publicly urged NBAPA to avoid making the same mistakes the NHLPA made.

But this is the players’ “proverbial” moment. They are fighting for change, for a better system. Public perception—especially from those that aren’t hardcore NBA fans—is that this is a petty battle between millionaires and billionaires. The NBAPA, however, is playing right into the owners’ hands. A vocal group of hard-line owners—spearheaded by Charlotte’s Michael Jordan and Milwaukee’s Herb Kohl—wants to cancel the season, especially those who balked at offering the players a 50-50 split of BRI (basketball-related income).

You could see the twinkle in Stern’s eye when he was giving his post-mortem chat after the NBAPA’s press conference. He was smug, he was condescending, and he was delivering talking points created by some PR maven. The commissioner, ever the seasoned lawyer, sounded like he was preparing for political battle.

After a few final jabs, he told the players to prepare for the NBA’s “nuclear winter,” a characterization he borrowed from Kobe Bryant.

If only things were as “cold” as they were in February 1964, then, maybe this would fit. Instead, we’re supposed to believe the players are fighting some tangible injustice. Really, though, it just feels like a bad session of Congress that will be exemplified by—what else—gridlock.