Tuesday, December 15, 2009, 2:08 am

Football season is over

Bobby and Hank Hill digest their Longhorns’ heartbreaking loss to the Cornhuskers:

ATLANTA — During warmups, my dad and I settled into our upper-deck seats at the dome here, anxiously awaiting kickoff of one of the biggest games of the past few college football seasons. Our Gators had come out in all-white outfits, including an untraditional white helmet they had worn the previous week as part of a Nike promotion.

“The good guys,” a guy behind us commented. Maybe. But you know what they say about good guys and where they finish: maybe not last but certainly not first.

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Friday, November 27, 2009, 9:41 pm

Tebow 4:13 (I can do all things through Tim, who strengthens me)

For about 10 months, since a beautiful January night in Miami Gardens, my dad and I have talked many times about what will come to pass Saturday: Tebow’s last stand.

We’ve talked about the decibel level when No. 15 runs out of the south end zone to greet Urban and his parents at midfield. We’ve talked about the bittersweetness. We’ve talked about the chills that will run through some 90,000 people (save for the few thousand in garnet and gold, and even they will likely be awestruck) as the greatest college football player EVER takes the field for his last home game.

Yeah, I said it. Greatest ever. Not the greatest of this decade or at Florida or in the SEC. Greatest. Ever.

As one of the only die-hard Gators in the Record newsroom, the sports writers like to give me a hard time. The other night they were making their case again for their Anti-Tebow for Heisman campaign. They have their points: Timmy hasn’t had the statistical season as a senior that he had during his sophomore and junior years. And after Thursday’s performance, Colt McCoy deserves it.

But take his career numbers into account:

8,335 passing yards
2,743 rushing yards
81 passing touchdowns
54 rushing touchdowns
46 wins to six losses
3 SEC East titles
2 national championships
2 SEC championships
2 first-team Academic All-American selections
1 first-team All-American selection
1 Heisman Trophy

All that with three games to spare.

You can compare those numbers to anyone’s and they will hold up. But to really determine how great he has been you have to watch him convert a fourth down or complete one of those crazy jump passes or get a whole stadium roaring with a jerk of the arms. You have to read about his mission work and his speeches at prisons and look at his GPA.

He’s been the entire package for four years, and we’ll be sad to see him go.

“Heroes get remembered, but legends never die. Follow your heart, kid, and you’ll never go wrong.”

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Wednesday, November 4, 2009, 7:34 pm

You’ll gouge your eye out!

To sum up the last three weeks: Oh my. A last-minute, game-winning field goal against Arkansas; a sloppy victory in Starkville; another rout of Georgia; and now Gougegate.

I don’t condone what Brandon Spikes did. But football is a violent, violent game, and when Georgia players were blatantly taking their own cheap shots, who knows what Spikes might have been responding to (that the cameras and the officials didn’t catch)?

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Friday, October 16, 2009, 8:34 pm

Neaux class

BATON ROUGE, La. — Heading into Tiger Stadium on Saturday evening, we had to walk through a gauntlet of liquored- and revved-up LSU fans who, naturally and understandably, took their share of potshots. Most of the taunting involved Florida’s quarterback and Second Coming of Wuerffel, Spurrier and Jesus Christ combined, Tim Tebow.

The most creative jab came in the form of a mannequin, creepily stripped bare save for a sign on its chest: “Tebow circumcised me.” Perfectly acceptable.

But the not-so-good-natured-yet-strangely-endearing roasting turned nasty minutes before the game. No, not when a group of Florida players jumped on the eye of the tiger at midfield. I was getting a hot dog and didn’t witness that. This had nothing to do with fans, players or coaches but with whatever staff member puts together the Tigers’ pre-game video montage (which, I must say, was about as lame as most universities’ TV spots that almost without fail will show a. the pastoral campus, b. the multicultural group lounging at the student union and c. a professor and student intently staring into a beaker).

First of all, I’m not sure why said staffer felt it necessary to include clips of the Gators. I’m assuming it’s a weekly thing, showing footage of the Tigers’ opponent. Personally, I found it sophomoric, even for the 128th-ranked university in the country. Lame strike No. 2. But when the clip reel included the vicious hit Tebow suffered at Kentucky I lost my shit. Here, in the week leading up the game, you had LSU coach Les Miles and his players saying all the right things about wanting Tebow to bounce back, to be OK, to be on the field. Then to show that “highlight”? That was about as classy as the LSU offense was prolific.

In the end, though, Tebow lined up in victory formation, took the snap and took a knee, and I could look up at the video board and smile: UF 13, LSU 3. See if they show that shit in two years.

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Friday, October 9, 2009, 3:08 pm

Whether he does or doesn’t, I’ll be there

ABOARD AIRTRAN FLIGHT 450 — I’m 30,000 (or something) feet in the air, somewhere between Atlanta and New Orleans, getting more nervous by the minute about the impending game Saturday night at Death Valley.

I just read an article in The New York Times (print edition, duh) about Tim Tebow’s concussion. Before that I read a column by ESPN’s Pat Forde on the (gray) matter (I stole Forde’s pun). Earlier, in the Atlanta airport, a CNN anchor mentioned Tebow, and it gave me pause. I doubt we’ll know whether he’ll play until 8 p.m., when the ball is kicked off at Tiger Stadium, but I had myself convinced that he would. As the game nears and the speculation intensifies, doubts are creeping in.

OK. The plane is beginning its descent into the Crescent City. The last time I arrived here for a football game was late December 1996. A few days later, Florida avenged its loss to hated in-state rival Florida State to win the Sugar Bowl — and its first national championship.

Good sign? In the airspace over a state rife with voodoo, I’ll take it as such.

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