The Dry Season 3: But Does He Have the Mark?
UHND.com - Rock
Kanutski
August 21, 2001
Is this the season that before me lies
Its handle toward my hand?
No, that’s not the Bard talking. When the Bard was born, English rugby wasn’t even a crazy idea, and instead of Survivor, they had public execution.
The Bard wrote “dagger,” not
“season,” which for me is an apt characterization. More on that in a bit. Keep
Macbeth in mind, our “do we kill the king” guy.
Welcome to the third episode of The Dry Season, a summer exploration of the state of Notre Dame Nation.
Last time we praised Bob Davie and called him our TQM coach. (TQM, or Total Quality Management, was the 90s corporate cure-all that fell between “do it like the Japanese” and “do it like Genghis Khan.” Only this one, which preached from the Book of Constant Improvement, actually worked.)
We listed Bob Davie’s virtues: he’s a smart man, a good man, and dedicated to constant positive change.
Then the Rock climbed out on a limb and made a few predictions:
Now, however, it’s time to look at the yes-buts, the discordant song that half the Nation’s fans are singing:
Yes—but he’s too conservative. He plays not to lose. You can’t win if you play not to lose.
Yes—but he keeps making freshman mistakes, like that clock management problem he has. How much more of this do we have to watch?
Yes—but at this rate he’ll take forever. We don’t have forever. We’re going to die someday.
And so on. I’ll pause while you add your own . . .
But Rock, you say, why don’t you list them? Why why don’t you list them all?
Because, my friends, none of these problems is the problem. Search your hearts—is clock management the issue, or is it winning?
If winning is the issue, let’s go to the bottom line—the problem at the heart of the Bob Davie problem.
If I’m wrong about this, great. I’ll be the first to kick myself for even mentioning it. But if this analysis is right, it’s damning. It can’t be fixed. This is the one problem that study, brains, intention, and a world of time can’t solve. And that problem is:
Does Bob Davie have the Mark?
You know, the Mark.
Joe Montana had it. Lou Holtz has it today. Ara carried it most of his life. Rockne, Leahy, Lombardi, Stram; these guys had it; these guys mostly won. Did they study, work hard, prepare? Were they smart?
Of course. But they also won.
What’s the Mark? It’s just that—the thing you have that says you mainly win. It isn’t anything more, or anything less. It’s reducible to nothing; it’s part of nothing. It’s a quantum singularity. It is what it is (to quote our friend). It’s the Mark.
The Mark sits on top of preparation, physical skill, intelligence, hard work. You don’t usually win without those other things. But when the game is on the line and your prep is all used up, when the well of your bright ideas has gone bone dry, when the scoreboard, the refs, and your whole broken body are against you, you need the Mark to win. And with it, you mainly do.
How did Montana win? Who knows? You can point to this pass, that decision, this bit of luck, that scramble on eggshell knees.
But those are just the details, and they varied. When it
looked like he’d lose, mostly he won. We all know it; and we all know why. He had the
Mark.
This is the most loosey-goosey aspect of this whole Bob Davie analysis, this Age of Aquarius magic, this Mark I’m talking about.
But look deep and tell me that’s not your main concern. Everything else we complain about is on the surface; it sits on top of the Mark, almost hiding it. Tell me your fear is clock management after all, and not the likelihood of winning.
Tell me you believe that if Joe Kuharich prepares better than Lou Holtz most of the time, he wins more games than Holtz, most of the time.
Tell me you can beat Bart Starr with skill alone.
Tell me you don’t believe that in sports, as in life, there are people with “something” that makes them great. Something that rides on top of their skill. Something they didn’t practice to acquire. Something you need both luck and your A-game to overcome, if that person is your opponent.
You and I both know it exists. It’s the most valuable quality one can possess. Staubach had it. Magic had it (what an apt name). As Arne Harris, the legendary baseball director at WGN, once said, “I’d rather be lucky than good.” Some people are both.
With the Mark, your bad seasons are surprising
(Parsegian). Without it, your good ones get the talk.
So there you are, ND fans.
Do you think Bob Davie has that pop that will take him to the top of the stack? Maybe he does, and the team will come to glory after all.
Or do you think that with all his smarts, his goodness, and a monumental effort, he’ll only be “very good?” If so, can you live with just very good? Or worse, just good enough? Can Kevin White?
Like I said, this analysis is troubling, because if the Mark exists and Bob Davie lacks it, we’ve already hit the top ring in the bathtub as season records go. I almost don’t want to say these things, except I know, my friends, you’re thinking them with me—and have been since Year One of the Davie half-decade.
Does Bob Davie have the Mark? I pray he does.
Is he hosed without it? Let’s hope not.
As a side note for you fans of irony, let’s say Davie doesn’t have that “something.” Yet discounting the game against the Frito-Lay Woodchucks (sorry, Oregon State Beavers), he had a very good season last year—9 and 2 as I recall, with both losses coming early.
The reason? Matt Lovecchio.
Could it be that Lovecchio has the Mark? There are many
who say he does. Can the Mark be borrowed? Hmmm.
And now the dagger comment. This coming season looks to me like a two-edged thing. Notre Dame could be very good this year. 11-0 or 10-1 is well within reach.
Or the year could come apart. Not 2-9 come apart, but 7-4 isn’t unthinkable, with some surprising losses.
At that point, does Kevin White lay the ceremonial knife on his desk, invite Bob Davie in, suggest that he “do the right thing,” and give the coach a minute to himself? Or does he serve Bordeaux for a job well done?
Either way, it’s high drama this season.
And that’s my Prediction Four—either a Top 5
season or a whole lot worse, with enough drama to make your pacemaker squirm.
Well, it looks like the summer’s nearly over, and with it our Dry Season articles. Fall camp has started, and you can taste the change of weather in the air.
Canaan is in sight, or maybe that’s Omaha. Either way, we’re close.
Is this the tuner that before me lies, its handle toward my hand? Let’s hope so.
Our remaining examinations, planned for a summer in the desert, were to cover the offense, the defense, and Kevin White. Since it looks like summer will end first, these articles will appear in season, along with game analysis. Stay tuned.
And if you want to scan the previous Dry Season articles,
including the one that extolls Bob Davie’s virtues, try here (The Dry Season) and here (The Dry Season 2: A TQM Coach).
Yours in fall
(theirs, not ours)
The Rock
(c) Rock Kanutski
All rights reserved.