“Jim Murray-esque” is a column by Sean Campbell that highlights all facets of USC Athletics in the style of former Los Angeles Times columnist Jim Murray.
I grew up in whatever the opposite of a football town is.
Water polo, volleyball, golf, lacrosse. If you can name it and it doesn’t start with foot and end in ball, Davis, California is good at it.
Because of that, I was never around a football culture.
The Biking Capital of the United States is certainly no Dillon, Texas from “Friday Night Lights,” though our lights might have cost more because of overly long games where opponents scored 63 or 71 points — don’t ask. If Davis High football had ever visited Georgia, Reba would’ve been singing about that Friday night.
After the USC football team lost four of its last five games by one score — including a one-point loss to Maryland on Saturday — the lights have seemed to go out in Los Angeles, but for a different reason.
Nobody expects the underdog to perform so when they do, it can only be positive, but when Mike Tyson steps into the ring against Average Joe from 47th Street and loses, there’s some hell to pay.
When I went home for Fall Break, I went to UC Davis’ Homecoming game against “rival” Cal Poly with some of my friends who had stayed in town.
At the biggest game of the year — where the now 7-1 Aggies dominated 56-10 — only 10,000 people went. The student section had maybe 1,000. Tailgates took up about 10 parking spots and shut down a minor street.
Enter USC…
I’ve only been in town for two USC home games thus far in my Trojan career. Going back home was still like walking from an Avenged Sevenfold concert to a ballet.
The lights were never on for the Aggies, so whether they win it all or drop dead, they only get so much either way. USC sees way more criticism when things aren’t going its way, but when the Trojans win, people care.
When USC topped now-No. 8 LSU or took a close first loss to the reigning national champion, Michigan, it seemed new people I had never seen before appeared at every TV around my dorm, Parkside, to tune into the road contests.
Now, hope is dying down. After the Maryland loss squandered any top-25 finish hopes and put a bowl game in question, only a die-hard few sat in the lounge on Saturday. A once exciting and promising season has turned into an afterthought for many around campus, and some might say no hope might’ve been better than some.
Since Friday’s matchup with Rutgers is the team’s one-off Friday-night game, it’s hard to imagine this week’s game generating the same atmosphere as even the ungodly 12:30 p.m. Wisconsin start. I think it’s time to question why.
Compared to last year, the Trojans have looked much improved. After moving from the Pac-12, a solid conference, to the Big Ten, aka the big leagues.
There are no true easy wins on the league schedule anymore — though some of those “easy games” gave USC trouble last season. Despite that, the Trojans have never looked out of place.
For context, when my high school moved up in leagues after last season — from the second-best league in our section to the best — the losses went from the mid-20s to 40+ points every week, and the Sierra Foothill League is no Big Ten.
What’s plaguing the Trojans is simple, yet harder to fix than a defensive scheme. They’re allergic to winning.
This is not to say that they are unfit to win. By most eye-tests, USC “should have” won at least three of the four games they lost. But if “should have” and “are” were the same thing, the Dodgers and Yankees would always be in the World Series, the No. 1 seeds would always make the Final Four in March and the smaller fighter would never win.
It’s almost like the team will play its heart out, but still find the one way to blow it at the end.
An interception in the endzone after allowing 14 straight points to Minnesota ended the game for USC. A missed field goal gave Penn State the chance at a game-winning, overtime drive — that included multiple fourth-down conversions — after the Trojans led by 14 at the half. In its Big Ten debut, a fourth-and-1 touchdown with less than a minute left at the Big House led to the first Trojan loss.
Can you write a better story? As an aspiring columnist, I know I can’t.
It may seem easy to give up on the Cardinal and Gold, but where is the fun in that?
Even after hitting one out of bounds, Jack Nicklaus didn’t look at his 1-iron and say “that’s enough for today pal, I don’t trust you.” He pulled that stick out and swung it like his life depended on it. More often than not, it worked out.
Traveler was in the lead, then a nose behind, then fell through a black hole, but if a non-Picard or Kirk-captained Star Trek ship can get out of one, maybe Lincoln Riley can too.
This fighter may have taken a few hits, but it’s still in the ring. Sure it can’t win by decision anymore, but like Rocky I, it can still go out with a bang and come back for the sequel.
For the record, Rocky beats Apollo in his second attempt, and that’s one of the best damn stories out there.
“Jim Murray-esque” runs every Thursday.