by Mike Coffey
As the late great Mike Royko once said, some things you wonder, some things you think, and some things you just know. And after a couple days in South Beach, I wonder if I’m going to get “Beachfront Avenue!” out of my head any time soon.
If this game showed us anything, it’s the importance of good line play. Notre Dame rode excellent performances by its defensive line to the championship game, but couldn’t get the 13th one. Recruiting and coaching can solve that problem.
I don’t know who does the logistics planning for Sun Life Stadium, but the port-o-potty subcommittee should be canned. Scattering single units all over the stadium is not a winning combination. They needed at least twice the number of johns they had.
I also believe the port-o-potty subcommittee helped out with the traffic control plan. Getting into the stadium eight hours before kickoff should not have been such an adventure, and nor should it have been necessary for us to sit in our car without moving for 30 minutes trying to get out.
It’s always been my philosophy that fans you meet at bowl games, whether friendly or adversary, tend to be from the upper strata of the fanbase. This game did nothing to convince me I’m incorrect. I could count the number of dickbag Tide fans on one hand, and had a number of friendly exchanges. That said, the group who accosted my sister and her friend for the crime of walking through the parking lot during halftime can eat a big bag of dicks.
I come away from South Beach with the same feeling I got visiting Hollywood … I’m glad I can say I did it, but if I’m never there again, it won’t break me up all that much. Then again, I’m way too high on the age scale and low on the attractiveness index to succeed in that environment anyway.
Not much else to say. A great season and trip marred by an awful couple of hours. Bright lights, big city. Let’s be more ready for it next time.