Live long enough, and you will see your hero become your oppressor, and then morph into your doppelganger, and then just at the end will change into your demon tormentor just long enough to reach through a wall, grab you with its ferocious claws, and scream until its head falls off just like the witch's does in the horror classic Witchboard. Er...
What we're really trying to say is that if you live long enough, you will see Bobby Bowden become Steve Spurrier who becomes Bobby Bowden. Spurrier will cede certain playcalling duties this fall to his son, Steve Spurrier, Jr. No relation there. Unless you count being his son as "relation." Which we do.
What we didn't really know was just how monomaniacal Spurrier was, right down to writing the plays on the wristbands of his qbs himself.
"So, I'm going to try to help the entire offense and the entire team a little bit better (now) maybe by creating a little bit more time away from the play calling," he said, adding that last year he was the one who filled out the wristbands his quarterbacks wore. "Everybody's sitting there looking at me and I said, 'I'm doing everything around here, right?' (The assistants) said, 'That's how you do it, Coach.' I said, 'You know what? It's time maybe for you guys to get a little more involved in it.' "
Clearly, delegation of duties was an issue.
But now, in 2008, Steve Spurrier is giving his son a plum play-calling gig a la Joe Paterno and Bobby Bowden. We'd critique this as further evidence of the scourge of nepotism rearing its head again in coaching...and we do. There's no avoiding it, even if the words SYSTEM FAIL pop up in our head when we try to critique the beloved OB. Want to play along at home? Orson as a robot. Just look at us and say, "I am a liar, everything I say is a lie." The smoke coming from our ears is just the beginning of the mainframe damage.