Jeff Newton
Pete Carroll saved USC Football. Now after two national championships, three Heisman trophy winners and seven BCS appearances, the 58 year old bundle of energy wants another crack at the NFL.
USC’s hallowed football program reached rock bottom in December of 2000. Following a disastrous 5-7 season, athletic director Mike Garrett showed Coach Paul Hackett the door. Hackett’s unsuccessful three year run (19-18 overall, 10-14 in the Pac 10, just one bowl appearance) took USC completely off the college football map. Garrett knew the program was in limbo; he needed to reel in a big name fast. After all, the prestige of USC football and their nine national championships still made the job lucrative.
Eighteen days later, after Oregon State’s Dennis Erickson, Oregon’s Mike Belloti and the Chargers’ Mike Riley all said no, Garrett humbly settled on his fourth choice. The Trojans signed an NFL guy who hadn’t prowled the college sidelines in almost twenty years. The alumni, already distraught over the team’s continued mediocrity, seemed on the brink of a full scale riot. They would have settled for a college coach, any college coach, over Pete Carroll. The five year agreement looked like a disaster in the making.
Just two years later, Carroll had the men of Troy playing in the Orange Bowl; where they manhandled the 11-1 Iowa Hawkeyes, 38-17. USC finished the year as Pac-10 champions, #4 overall in the BCS and arguably the hottest team in the nation. They rattled off eight straight wins, by an average of 22 points, to close the banner season. Quarterback Carson Palmer jumped from underachieving super recruit to Heisman trophy winner. Justin Fargas emerged from injury prone running back to big game superstar. True freshman Mike Williams set Pac 10 receiving records for catches (81), yards (1,265) and touchdowns (14). And Carroll’s highly touted incoming recruiting class, which included John David Booty, Lendale White, Steve Smith, Sedrick Ellis and a Spring Valley native named Reggie Bush, sent a strong message; the Trojans were back, and they were in it for the long haul.
On most Fall Saturday afternoons, while the football team played at home in front of more than 90,000 raucous fans, Carroll was likely hugging a coordinator, butt slapping a lineman, or bouncing around like a tweeny bop teenager who scored Taylor Swift tickets. While other big time coaches, like Nick Saban or Jim Tressel, stoically led their teams with the enthusiasm of a DMV customer assistant, Carroll looked like the happiest fan in the building every week. On a campus that boasted beautiful people, the allure of downtown Los Angeles nightlife, a bustling Greek system and lavish parties, a 50 something father of three was having the most fun. And whenever USC took the field, he had every reason to smile.
From 2002, Carroll’s second season, to 2008, Carroll’s second to last year at USC, the team finished a remarkable 82-9. They smoked Notre Dame on an annual basis, toyed with Michigan whenever the two met in the Rose Bowl and blitzed through their non conference schedule as if they were running half hearted scrimmages against the scout team. The fans usually had their keys rattling halfway through the third quarter. The student section could always expect an upbeat Saturday: tailgate to excess, watch the Trojans pulverize some over matched opponent, go home happy. The games always seemed inevitable because nobody recruited like Carroll.
He almost held a monopoly over Los Angeles prospects, from Compton to Orange County. He plucked Booty, one of the biggest prospects of the last decade, from SEC country and nabbed Dwayne Jarrett from the New Jersey area. If there was a “once in lifetime” high schooler in the rural mountains of West Virginia, Carroll would find the young man, and sign him. The coach’s remarkable 2003 recruiting class alone produced 13 draft picks, four of them first round selections. Scouts.com penciled the school’s recruiting class in the top 5 year after year. Nationally televised high school all star games usually included at least five SC commits. And unlike Charlie Weis, who brought exciting recruiting classes and disappointing win totals, Carroll’s blue chippers filled All-Conference and All-American ballots. When Palmer left for the NFL, Matt Leinart stepped in. When Fargas graduated, Thunder (Lendale White) and Lightning (Reggie Bush), took the carries. Until this season, the term “rebuilding” didn’t exist in USC’s repertoire. The fans became so used to winning, and proudly flaunting their hats and shirts and alumni license plates, they forgot what it’s like to be adequate instead of excellent.
In the Pete Carroll era, you couldn’t drive through Los Angeles without seeing at least a handful of USC flags, prominently flying over pricey luxury sedans and SUVs. You couldn’t walk through a busy intersection without noticing a middle aged man, donning both a sweatshirt and a hat with the school’s colors. And you couldn’t stroll through the university’s campus without witnessing a sea of Crimson and Red, as almost every student proudly supported their student body. The undergrads put their money and credit cards in their USC wallets, drank from USC mugs and hung USC blankets in their dorm rooms. I’ve been on that campus, and in those dorms, over a dozen times and the atmosphere never changed. Even the football greats came back. On any particular Saturday, ABC cameras caught Marcus Allen talking to Keyshawn Johnson on the sidelines, or Snoop Dogg trading laughs with Will Ferrell. Everyone wanted to be on the Trojan bandwagon.
Now with Carroll bolting for a $35 million deal in the NFL, those same supporters want to torch their season tickets with their USC lighters. They feel betrayed by a coach who, they believe, took the money and ran right as things got tough for the football team and the athletic department. They’re happy to back Lane Kiffin, a 34 year old who’s best known for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. The non stop love fest, between Carroll and the people who worship USC, has turned real ugly real fast. They would just as soon he take his hoots and hollers, his goofy antics and his big bear hugs to the pros. Maybe in time they’ll remember the 2004 Rose Bowl, when Mike Williams threw a reverse touchdown to Matt Leinart, USC cruised over Michigan 28-14, and the Trojans secured an AP National Championship. Maybe they’ll remember Carroll high diving into a pool during summer workouts, as a way to draw laughs from worn out players. Maybe they’ll even have a Pete Carroll day and let him give a speech at halftime. For now, though, they don’t care about the two national championships or the 34 game win streak or how many donors contributed to the school once the team started rolling through seasons. Pete may not have gone out on top, but he created college football’s force of the decade. Good luck, Mr. Kiffin; you’ve got some big shoes to fill.
