College football ought to reward noble
decisions. If that were the case, the Downtown Athletic Club would book a
table for two for next year's Heisman Trophy presentation.
Instead of the normal party of five, Southern
Cal quarterback Matt Leinart and Memphis running back
DeAngelo Williams would receive the
only invitations. And instead of touchdown passes and electrifying runs, the
nation would celebrate their decisions to stay in school.
But in an era of college athletics where the
student has all too frequently abandoned the student-athlete, that makes as
much sense as a football bat. So do the decisions Leinart and Williams made
to postpone the commencement of their NFL careers.
In fact, we're talking about the ultimate
gamble where the potential losses far outweigh the gains.
By staying in school, their guarantee of NFL
riches is at risk. Had they gone with the grain, this April would have
promised fast cars, flashy threads, and a new crib to showcase on MTV.
Judging by their position in the pecking
order — ESPN draft expert Mel Kiper Jr. rated the tandem among the top three
juniors — Leinart and Williams would have become their own Kings of Bling.
Given that, no one this side of Utopia could sanely question the decision to
go pro.
With Leinart's golden arm and Hollywood
looks, we're looking at a southpaw version of Joe Montana. The potential
bidding war between Pepsi and Coke might have been like an eBay auction on
steroids.
What's more, you would think the rapid rate
at which Big Ben became a Pittsburgh monument was enough to provide the
deciding nudge.
In Williams, you have the second coming of
Marshall Faulk, the type of combo back who possesses the speed, power, and
hands to play every down. His nifty feet and illuminating smile could launch
a blood-and-guts war between Adidas and Nike.
"(Williams) is so versatile, he can do so
many things," Louisville coach Bobby Petrino said prior to the season. "Not
only running the football, but catching the football. He's very difficult to
stop.
"He can do all the things you ask a running
back to do. He can cut. He's got power. He's built low to the ground, so
he's difficult to tackle. He also is good at running out of tackles."
Now all bets are off.
One play could end the career of either one
before he gets started. In a sport with a ball designed to take
unpredictable bounces, a cruel twist of the knee could turn the promise of
riches back to rags.
That's the risk most underclassmen aren't
willing to take. It's also one that all logic advised Leinart and Williams
against.
But in my book, it's a decision that
increased the priceless value of the college experience.
For every Leinart and Williams, there are
five dozen Koren Robinsons. By the time most college stars are three years
removed from their high school class, their existence on a college campus is
reduced to the weight room.
Instead of focusing on literature or history,
mental preparation shifts towards the personality tests players must take at
the annual NFL combine. When you play for pay, your ability to pontificate
Wordsworth or Thoreau lacks in comparison to the importance of your favorite
of ice cream.
Not to Leinart and Williams, the football
incarnates of Tim Duncan.
By returning to Wake Forest for his senior
season, Duncan rewrote his legacy as a college athlete. Instead of going
down merely as one of the greatest players in ACC basketball history, he'll
also be remembered as the one who most embraced the ideals of the
student-athlete.
Though there was little left to prove on the
hardwood, the lure of college life, finishing his degree, as well as a
four-year commitment to Wake were enough to trump basketball interests.
Likewise for Leinart and Williams, who have solidified their places among
the role models in college athletics.
In a perfect world, Leinart and Williams will
punctuate their college careers with record breaking performances. They'll
lead their teams to major bowls, go first and second in the NFL draft, sign
long-term contracts and make lucrative endorsement deals.
Unfortunately that isn't a guarantee. Their
willingness to make that gamble has renewed my faith in college athletics.