"There is no such thing as a moral victory." Yes, I believe this. Yet, I am surprised to find that the Arkansas loss to Alabama does not offend me, does not dismay me. My sense of the game is that two well-matched opponents met on the battlefield, were aware of the stakes, battled bravely and, at the end of the day, the better team took the victory.
So why am I at peace with this loss?
I am at peace with this loss because Arkansas is not Alabama, not Florida, not a titan, not a destroyer of worlds. We are not expected to win every game, every time. We are always anticipated to be competitive, but in most match-ups with the nationally competitive programs, we are not expected to win (except against LSU in Little Rock). But on September 25, in Fayetteville, we took the field against a team that has not lost a regular season game since 2007, and we looked every bit their rival.
We almost won. But how? And why? Not because of a series of flukey plays (an out-of-character turnover, some special-team brilliance, some inspired insanity a la Houston D. Nutt). No, this almost-win was a product of quality play - coaching, play execution, physicality, raw talent. The Hogs deserved to win. And they almost did. Almost.
Had we won, would our fans have pulled down the goalposts? I hope not. I hope we would have had the confidence to appreciate that we had beaten a worthy opponent but that there was more work to be done. Auburn remains unbeaten. LSU will be ready. And Mississippi, God bless HDN, hepped up on locker-room inspiration, they could hang 24 on us before the half. It's the way of the SEC. Beating Alabama would have been just one more rung on the ladder to the ultimate prize - repeat, indeed expected, BCS bowl appearances.
In my humble opinion, our loss to Alabama was not inevitable. Instead, it was more akin to the luck of the draw, on the one hand, and the nod to the more experienced hand at the wheel on the other. I argue that the first three quarters of the game represent what Razorback football can produce, 24-7, against any opponent. The fourth quarter? Imagine a tight-rope walker who momentarily looks down, who suddenly and overwhelmingly appreciates his humanity. We took a lead into the locker room at halftime, then built on it. We never should have looked down. We never should have counted on getting to the other side. We should have just kept going.
Where next? Redemption in Arlington. And a realization that true redemption will only come by resolving every challenge as it presents itself, game by game, play by play.
Go Hogs! Go Hogs.
1 comment:
Wonderfully said.
Post a Comment