Mike Bianchi SPORTS COMMENTARY
GAINESVILLE — A long, long time ago, an old man sat on the back porch and watched a young boy in his little orange and blue Florida Gators jersey pretend to run out of the tunnel and onto Florida Field.
The old man stood and cheered, and the young boy reveled in the adoration of his grandfather and those thousands of make-believe fans sitting in the stands. Too bad the old man, known as Papa Mus, is gone now because he would have loved to see the young boy's vision come to fruition Saturday night. The boy is Will Muschamp, and, of course, he's all grown up now. And, unlike three decades ago, this time he ran out of the tunnel Saturday night in his first game as UF's head coach and 90,000 real fans stood up and hollered.
Nobody knows how Will Muschamp will do in his first head coaching job as the successor to the great Urban Meyer, but somehow on this Swamp-stomping 41-3 era-opening victory against legendary coach Howard Schnellenberger and his not-so-legendary FAU Owls, Gator football felt more like Gator football than it has in years.
The old man stood and cheered, and the young boy reveled in the adoration of his grandfather and those thousands of make-believe fans sitting in the stands.
Nobody knows how Will Muschamp will do in his first head coaching job as the successor to the great Urban Meyer, but somehow on this Swamp-stomping 41-3 era-opening victory against legendary coach Howard Schnellenberger and his not-so-legendary FAU Owls, Gator football felt more like Gator football than it has in years.
This year's offense totaled more yards in its first game (468) than last year's offense did in every game but one. Quarterback John Brantley threw the ball efficiently and – are you ready for this? -- didn't have one running play called for him. Running back Jeff Demps ran the ball explosively and his backfield mate Chris Rainey scored three different ways. The defense didn't allow FAU in the endzone and the special teams blocked a punt for a touchdown. It was Gator football the way Muschamp remembers it.
Muschamp even let his seniors talk him into outfitting the team in those horrid orange jerseys the Gators used to wear in Muschamp's boyhood years when Charley Pell was the coach in the early'80s. The only thing missing was the NCAA investigators taking notes in the stands.
Even Florida State legend Bobby Bowden was on the opposing sideline – albeit briefly. In town for a news conference to announce that he and Schnellenberger would be coaching together in an upcoming college all-star game. Bowden was on the FAU sideline and shook hands with Muschamp before the game.
But this wasn't about Bowden or Schnellenberger; it was about UF starting over with a new coach, a new attitude, new coordinators and new schemes. But even with all the newness, it seemed more like the Gators of old … before Meyer came in and transformed Florida football into his own image.
Meyer was a blazing comet across the southern sky, streaking to two national titles in six years before he rapidly burned out. But even though he built a great program, he never seemed completely fulfilled. Even when he was coaching the Gators, he once said Notre Dame was his "dream job."
Muschamp grew up in Gainesville just a Steve Spurrier spiral away from Florida Field, where he used to sell Cokes on game day. Yes, Muschamp must win and win big if he is ever to fill Meyer's considerable shoes, but maybe, just maybe, he can win – and win the way Florida fans want to win.
Meyer built his Gator program with the spread offense that, even though it spawned the iconic quarterback and folk hero Tim Tebow, always felt a little foreign to Gator fans who grew up on the vertical passing game of Spurrier and Ray Graves.
Not that Weis' offense is as wide open as Spurrier's once was, but he will at least take a few shots down the field.
"He looks like the John Brantley from high school again," Rainey said of Brantley, a legendary prep passer from Ocala
Brantley admittedly was like a Charlie-in-the-Box on the Island of Misfit Toys in last year's anemic spread option offense – a scheme predicated on the quarterback being a running threat. During the spring, Weis, who once coached Tom Brady with the New England Patriots, said: "I can definitely guarantee that you can count the number of times John Brantley will run the option this year on no hands."
Brantley smiled this summer when asked about the Weis quote: "That's what I like hearing," he said. "I don't want to run the ball; we've got some darn good running backs to do that. I want stand in the pocket and deliver the ball down the field."
It is Gator football the way Brantley envisioned as a boy.
And the way a young Will Muschamp and his old granddaddy envisioned, too, all those years ago.
"I guarantee you, he was watching me," Muschamp said of his grandfather. "He watched me in the back yard every day for probably five or six years and was closer to me than any parent or friend."
Somewhere up on That Big Back Porch in the Sky, Papa Mus stood and cheered his boy Saturday night as young Will ran through the tunnel onto the green, green grass of home.
Muschamp even let his seniors talk him into outfitting the team in those horrid orange jerseys the Gators used to wear in Muschamp's boyhood years when Charley Pell was the coach in the early'80s. The only thing missing was the NCAA investigators taking notes in the stands.
Even Florida State legend Bobby Bowden was on the opposing sideline – albeit briefly. In town for a news conference to announce that he and Schnellenberger would be coaching together in an upcoming college all-star game. Bowden was on the FAU sideline and shook hands with Muschamp before the game.
But this wasn't about Bowden or Schnellenberger; it was about UF starting over with a new coach, a new attitude, new coordinators and new schemes. But even with all the newness, it seemed more like the Gators of old … before Meyer came in and transformed Florida football into his own image.
Meyer was a blazing comet across the southern sky, streaking to two national titles in six years before he rapidly burned out. But even though he built a great program, he never seemed completely fulfilled. Even when he was coaching the Gators, he once said Notre Dame was his "dream job."
Muschamp grew up in Gainesville just a Steve Spurrier spiral away from Florida Field, where he used to sell Cokes on game day. Yes, Muschamp must win and win big if he is ever to fill Meyer's considerable shoes, but maybe, just maybe, he can win – and win the way Florida fans want to win.
Meyer built his Gator program with the spread offense that, even though it spawned the iconic quarterback and folk hero Tim Tebow, always felt a little foreign to Gator fans who grew up on the vertical passing game of Spurrier and Ray Graves.
Not that Weis' offense is as wide open as Spurrier's once was, but he will at least take a few shots down the field.
"He looks like the John Brantley from high school again," Rainey said of Brantley, a legendary prep passer from Ocala
Brantley admittedly was like a Charlie-in-the-Box on the Island of Misfit Toys in last year's anemic spread option offense – a scheme predicated on the quarterback being a running threat. During the spring, Weis, who once coached Tom Brady with the New England Patriots, said: "I can definitely guarantee that you can count the number of times John Brantley will run the option this year on no hands."
Brantley smiled this summer when asked about the Weis quote: "That's what I like hearing," he said. "I don't want to run the ball; we've got some darn good running backs to do that. I want stand in the pocket and deliver the ball down the field."
It is Gator football the way Brantley envisioned as a boy.
And the way a young Will Muschamp and his old granddaddy envisioned, too, all those years ago.
"I guarantee you, he was watching me," Muschamp said of his grandfather. "He watched me in the back yard every day for probably five or six years and was closer to me than any parent or friend."
Somewhere up on That Big Back Porch in the Sky, Papa Mus stood and cheered his boy Saturday night as young Will ran through the tunnel onto the green, green grass of home.
