Saturday, February 16, 2008
Another Championship For The Jags
The Valley Center Jaguars are the CIF champions, and there's only one reason why:
They did it the right way.
Last week in this space we discussed what it means to be a champion, and concluded that a key ingredient is performing with excellence under the greatest pressure.
But we may have missed out on something even more important; something that goes beyond just football, or even sports in general -- we failed to see that it's not just what you do, but how you do it.
For the greatest of champions to be truly loved by the fans, character is indescribably important. Sincerety and graciousness in winning or losing are to be very highly regarded, and when these qualities are absent, it takes away from the accomplishments on the field instead of adding to them.
Take, for example, the New England Patriots in the NFL. Their head coach is widely considered to be the premier mind in football, their quarterback is on a record-obliterating pace, their once-controversial wide receiver is quietly (for once!) having the season of his life, and they have a defense that could probably hold a rampaging army of killer cyborgs to at least a field goal.
But people hate them. Hate them. Well, people outside the New England area, anyway. Why is that? Why aren't the Patriots commonly loved and admired like the Dallas Cowboys of the 1970s, or the 49ers of the 1980s? Why do most fans cringe every time we have to see another Brady-to-Moss heave that ends up as a touchdown?
It's because of the way they're winning. They seem to have convinced themselves that they are the victimes of the early-season "Cameragate" scandal, and they somehow manage to take even the smallest slights as an affront to their collective, personal well-being. Basically, they think everybody's out to get them, and that somehow they don't deserve it.
For the record, I think they cheated, they admitted they cheated, and they were punished for cheating. It pretty much seems like the situation has been resolved, right? But it has somehow gotten worse as the season goes on.
The Patriots have won 16 straight games now, but they play in probably the least competitive division in football (the AFC East, home of the 0-16 Miami Dolphins). Their division is also playing the NFC East this season, presenting some challenges (the Dallas Cowboys), but also serving up another cupcake opponent (the Washington Redskins, who lost by a score of 642-0, if I remember correctly).
The Pats aren't just content to win, they want to rub their opponents' faces in it, and they want to pad their own stats in the meantime.
Which goes against the great Patriots teams of the past seven years, who were known for their subtle gameplans, their ability to use just enough of the playbook to win, and who seemed genuinely happy to be successful. I wonder, if we were to show Tom Brady the film of how he celebrated after beating the Rams after the 2001 season, if he even recognizes himself. He's gone from a happy kid playing a game to a morally-questionable sourpuss who chews out his teammates for missing a route when the team is holding a 30-point lead in the fourth quarter.
And that brings us back to the Valley Center Jaguars, because they are the polar opposite of the New England Patriots.
Head coach Rob Gilster may not have a ripped-up hoodie or every sportscaster in the nation calling him a genius, but when he took over the playcalling duties at the beginning of the season, he knew what he was doing. Time and time again, when the Jaguars needed a big play in a tight spot, coach Gilster found a way to get the ball into the hands of his playmakers and the team responded.
And so did the rest of the coaching staff, from defensive coordinator Randy Cowell all the way through the kids charting the offensive plays on the sidelines. Sure, the players missed assignments, or lined up out of position, and the coaches called them on it. But they didn't stop coaching, and once again, the team responded.
The moment that most indicates the heart of this Jaguars team came after the win at USD, after the celebration, after the crowd started filing out to head home. As the players headed up the ramp to get on the bus, senior linebacker/tight end Burt Lund, who won the sportsmanship award at the game, ran up to quarterback Tyler Bernard and put his arm around his shoulders.
"Hey Tyler, thanks for getting us here," Lund said. "And sorry I dropped that fourth down catch."
Bernard looked up and laughed. "Shut up," he fired back with a grin.
That little exchange showed that the team was glad to be there, even though it's becoming something of a habit to be in the CIF final. But it also showed that these players, though grateful for success, weren't satisfied with anything less than their best effort.
And in the end, it showed that no matter what, they were in it together -- not for the hype, not for the prestige, not for the glory -- but for each other.
These Jaguars are truly champions.
They did it the right way.
Last week in this space we discussed what it means to be a champion, and concluded that a key ingredient is performing with excellence under the greatest pressure.
But we may have missed out on something even more important; something that goes beyond just football, or even sports in general -- we failed to see that it's not just what you do, but how you do it.
For the greatest of champions to be truly loved by the fans, character is indescribably important. Sincerety and graciousness in winning or losing are to be very highly regarded, and when these qualities are absent, it takes away from the accomplishments on the field instead of adding to them.
Take, for example, the New England Patriots in the NFL. Their head coach is widely considered to be the premier mind in football, their quarterback is on a record-obliterating pace, their once-controversial wide receiver is quietly (for once!) having the season of his life, and they have a defense that could probably hold a rampaging army of killer cyborgs to at least a field goal.
But people hate them. Hate them. Well, people outside the New England area, anyway. Why is that? Why aren't the Patriots commonly loved and admired like the Dallas Cowboys of the 1970s, or the 49ers of the 1980s? Why do most fans cringe every time we have to see another Brady-to-Moss heave that ends up as a touchdown?
It's because of the way they're winning. They seem to have convinced themselves that they are the victimes of the early-season "Cameragate" scandal, and they somehow manage to take even the smallest slights as an affront to their collective, personal well-being. Basically, they think everybody's out to get them, and that somehow they don't deserve it.
For the record, I think they cheated, they admitted they cheated, and they were punished for cheating. It pretty much seems like the situation has been resolved, right? But it has somehow gotten worse as the season goes on.
The Patriots have won 16 straight games now, but they play in probably the least competitive division in football (the AFC East, home of the 0-16 Miami Dolphins). Their division is also playing the NFC East this season, presenting some challenges (the Dallas Cowboys), but also serving up another cupcake opponent (the Washington Redskins, who lost by a score of 642-0, if I remember correctly).
The Pats aren't just content to win, they want to rub their opponents' faces in it, and they want to pad their own stats in the meantime.
Which goes against the great Patriots teams of the past seven years, who were known for their subtle gameplans, their ability to use just enough of the playbook to win, and who seemed genuinely happy to be successful. I wonder, if we were to show Tom Brady the film of how he celebrated after beating the Rams after the 2001 season, if he even recognizes himself. He's gone from a happy kid playing a game to a morally-questionable sourpuss who chews out his teammates for missing a route when the team is holding a 30-point lead in the fourth quarter.
And that brings us back to the Valley Center Jaguars, because they are the polar opposite of the New England Patriots.
Head coach Rob Gilster may not have a ripped-up hoodie or every sportscaster in the nation calling him a genius, but when he took over the playcalling duties at the beginning of the season, he knew what he was doing. Time and time again, when the Jaguars needed a big play in a tight spot, coach Gilster found a way to get the ball into the hands of his playmakers and the team responded.
And so did the rest of the coaching staff, from defensive coordinator Randy Cowell all the way through the kids charting the offensive plays on the sidelines. Sure, the players missed assignments, or lined up out of position, and the coaches called them on it. But they didn't stop coaching, and once again, the team responded.
The moment that most indicates the heart of this Jaguars team came after the win at USD, after the celebration, after the crowd started filing out to head home. As the players headed up the ramp to get on the bus, senior linebacker/tight end Burt Lund, who won the sportsmanship award at the game, ran up to quarterback Tyler Bernard and put his arm around his shoulders.
"Hey Tyler, thanks for getting us here," Lund said. "And sorry I dropped that fourth down catch."
Bernard looked up and laughed. "Shut up," he fired back with a grin.
That little exchange showed that the team was glad to be there, even though it's becoming something of a habit to be in the CIF final. But it also showed that these players, though grateful for success, weren't satisfied with anything less than their best effort.
And in the end, it showed that no matter what, they were in it together -- not for the hype, not for the prestige, not for the glory -- but for each other.
These Jaguars are truly champions.
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