NEW ORLEANS — When I got the news that Urban Meyer was stepping down as the head coach at the University of Florida, I nearly caused a multi-car pileup on I-10. I was just crossing over the Pearl River Bridge into Louisiana when John Fineran told me the news. I thought he was joking. When it became obvious he wasn’t, I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the headrest. Memo to everyone: put this on your top 10 list of things not to do.
In terms of shock value, this one ranks right up there with Ron Zook being named head coach at the University of Florida. I thought Zook came in from left field, which is the same place from which Urban’s announcement came. Let’s just say that’s the last thing I expected to hear. I spent the last three weeks envisioning Urban energized and ready for the next great challenge of life in the post-Tim Tebow era. I saw a recruiting class coming together that brought back memories of the 2006 class that included Tebow, Brandon Spikes and Percy Harvin.
I saw more national championships in the future. I saw Urban Meyer coaching Florida for another 7-10 years before retiring as one of the truly great coaches in college football history.
All those things flashed before my eyes just before I saw the rear end of a Toyota Tacoma inches away. Fortunately, I avoided a wreck but it was too close a call for comfort.
I am in a state of shock that Urban Meyer is walking away from college football but that’s the selfish side of me talking. I have to admit I wanted Urban to coach at Florida for a long, long time. Since the day he took the job in December of 2004, I have thought he is the right coach at the right place and at the right time.
Then there is the practical side of me. That’s the one that thinks the world is better off with a healthy Urban Meyer doing something other than coaching football than a coach Urban Meyer always one step away from the heart attack or stroke that would take him away from us forever. I’ve spent the last five years writing about Urban Meyer. I love the guy as a football coach. I love him even more as a person.
Before I go further, I want to share a special Urban Meyer moment with you. In November of 2005, my mother was close to death at a hospital in Orlando after some very serious surgery. Her 77th birthday was Thanksgiving day and things were looking rather grim. Shelley Meyer knew my mom was in the hospital and knew how fond my mother was of Urban. The day before Thanksgiving, Shelley asked me if it would be okay if she called my mom and I, of course, agreed. Thanksgiving morning, she called but she had a surprise. She put Urban on the phone and he wished her a happy birthday and then he asked if there was anything she wanted for her birthday? She told him the best birthday present she could imagine would be a win over Florida State on Saturday. The Gators won that game, 34-7. Not coincidentally, my mother’s health improved dramatically. She still tells everyone that Urban Meyer is about as close as there is to a saint here on earth.
That saint here on earth now says it’s time to walk away from football. Comparitively speaking, I handled Zooker being named head coach at UF a whole lot better than I have handled Urban stepping away. Since nearly causing that wreck on I-10, I have been dissecting every press conference and interaction with Urban I’ve had in the last several months, searching for clues and wondering how I could have missed that his shooting star career was on the verge of a flameout if he didn’t do something about it. In retrospect, I should have seen it coming long before he checked himself into Shands complaining of chest pains after the loss to Alabama in the SEC Championship Game. I don’t know about you, but I never bought into the dehydration explanation. I thought then and I think now that the chest pains were brought on by stress, sort of his body’s warning that it something doesn’t change, something far worse than chest pains will happen next.
In terms of stress, the events of the past three weeks — the DUI arrest of Carlos Dunlap, the loss to Alabama and the sudden decision by Billy Gonzales to leave UF for LSU — must have felt to Urban like barrels of gasoline tossed onto an already raging fire and the more I think about it, the more I think I should have seen this coming long ago.
Back in the spring and in the summer, Urban seemed so at ease when he was dealing with the media. Early in August, I remarked to Gator Country’s Buddy Martin, Mark Long of the Associated Press and Mike DiRocco of the Florida Times-Union that Urban seemed almost playful in the way he was dealing with the press. In the previous four years, every encounter with the media seemed like a chore for Meyer, something he was doing only because he had to. In August, it’s not as if he embraced his time with the media, but he seemed more at ease than any time I could recall. The general consensus was that Meyer was at ease because he had a loaded team that everybody figured would repeat as the national champion so he could afford to have some fun for a change.
And then the season began and there was either a serious issue or distraction nearly every single week. By the time November arrived, it seemed that Meyer was doing more crisis management than coaching. Buddy and I talked on the road trip to Mississippi State and again on the road trip to Columbia how it seemed the joy was missing — that Urban didn’t seem to be having any fun. He talked a good game. His body language told a far different story.
The signs that the stress was getting to Urban were there all along and either we didn’t recognize them or conveniently overlooked them. No matter, he was seriously stressed out, to the point that he had to make a life changing decision. I’m guessing he looked in the mirror one recent morning and decided that he either had to walk away now or allow the combination of stress, the arachnoid cyst on his brain and the family history of heart problems to kill him prematurely.
Urban Meyer loves football like few coaches I’ve ever dealt with but when he had to decide between football and family, family won and once again, I understood why I always felt Urban was the right coach at the right time and in the right place. One of the reasons I always liked him so much is that Urban has always preached that his players have to have their priorities in the right place and priorities always begin with faith and family.
When he had to make a decision about priorities, faith and family won over football. Isn’t that the way it’s supposed to be? Aren’t coaches supposed to set the example? How can you lead if you don’t follow your own set of rules?
Urban Meyer will talk about his decision more today at the 3:30 p.m. (CDT) press conference at the Marriott Convention Center after the Gators arrive for their January 1 Sugar Bowl game with Cincinnati. I’m guessing this will be a sideshow, not exactly what he wanted but what he will have to deal with one more time before he hangs up the whistle.
As I pulled into my New Orleans hotel this evening, feeling very much as if someone had stolen my source of energy, I selfishly hoped Urban would do a Billy Donovan, change his mind and call both Bernie Machen and Jeremy Foley to tell them he had just made a monumental mistake. Before any further thoughts along that line could crystallize, I started thinking about the last five years and how I’ve had the chance to chronicle the greatest run in Florida football history made possible by Urban Meyer, the greatest football coach in Florida football history. Think about it for a second — 56 wins in 66 games; two SEC titles and two national championships; a Heisman Trophy quarterback who will go down as perhaps the greatest player in the modern era of the game.
When I thought about how incredible this five-year run has been, the selfishness vanished into thin air. Back in December of 2004 when he was hired as Florida’s football coach, if someone had told you that Urban Meyer would only coach five years but he would win two national championships and get within a game of competing for a third, would you have taken it? Or would you have said, “No, we have to have someone who will be here for the long haul”?
Long hauls are nice, but I guarantee you 99.999 percent of you would have taken the five years and wouldn’t have blinked. I know that’s what I would have done. Give me a five year run like the one we’ve just experienced any day of the week.
So thanks, Urban. Thanks for five glorious years. Now go spend the time with your family and get your health back. You’ve earned it.