URBAN LEGEND BECOMES REAL
By David Whitley and Sentinel Columnist
We now fast-forward to what seems inevitable:
THE VATICAN -- Church bells rang as white smoke rose from a chimney of the Sistine Chapel, signaling the election of a new pope. By unanimous vote, Cardinal Regis Philbinus was chosen.
He immediately donned the papal vestments and chose the name "Urban" in honor of the football coach at an American university.
Hey, why not? Urban Meyer was named after a pope. The way he's ascending, it won't be long until they are naming the pope after him.
"He's not like the average coach or the average man," cornerback Ryan Smith said.
Smith became a follower at Utah, later transferring after Florida hired Meyer. In two short years, Meyer has taken the program from Zookville to the Promised Land.
Only 42, Meyer already is being judged in historical terms. Seven seasons ago, he was an obscure assistant hoping to get a job at a mid-major. Now, he can have almost any coaching job he wants.
Should Florida just go ahead and order a sequoia to be chopped down and made into a trophy case? At a guaranteed 10 wins a year, Meyer will pass Bobby Bowden's career victory total about 2038 -- assuming he hasn't been elected governor or president or simply converted into pure energy and gone to live with Zeus on Mount Olympus.
Pardon the hyperbole, but these are dizzying days in Gainesville. The reality is it's foolish to assume anything far beyond 2008, much less 2038.
History shows the victory parade usually doesn't need to refuel very often. And the young man in the lead convertible sometimes gets run over by his own followers.
Meyer is the youngest coach to win a national title since Bob Stoops and Oklahoma won it in 2000. Like Stoops, Meyer was born and groomed in Ohio. Like Stoops, Meyer was in his second year on the job. Like Stoops, Meyer may not win another title for at least five years despite being considered one of the nation's top coaches.
"Obviously, things had to break our way to even get here," Athletic Director Jeremy Foley said after Monday night's game.
The Gators won some close games. They had no major injuries. UCLA shocked USC out of the way. The stars were perfectly aligned.
That doesn't happen often, though once a decade seems to be the interval at Florida. The key for any program is simply to be in position to take advantage of the situation when it arises.
Meyer seems to have done that, though he wouldn't be the first wunder-coach to become a trivia question.
At 33, Danny Ford was the youngest coach to win a national championship when he led Clemson to the 1981 title. The ensuing years produced three ACC titles and a couple of NCAA investigations. Ford resigned in 1990, resurfaced at Arkansas in 1992, then was fired five years and 30 losses later.
Johnny Majors was 41 when he led Pittsburgh to the 1976 championship. He resigned after the season to coach his alma mater, Tennessee. There were good and bad years in Knoxville, but never a national title.
Barry Switzer was 38 when Oklahoma won the 1974 national championship. The Sooners won it again in '75, which certainly gives Meyer something to shoot for in 2007. The Sooners won a third title in 1985, then the scandals eventually caught up and Switzer resigned in '89. He eventually won a Super Bowl in Dallas with Jimmy Johnson's leftovers.
Two decades ago, Johnson was Meyer. He was 44 when Miami won the 1987 national title. Many more seemed likely, but the lure of the NFL was too strong and Johnson left South Florida so he could one day scream "How 'Bout Them Cowboys?"
None of this means Meyer is going to leave to coach his alma mater, Cincinnati. It does mean there is no guarantee of a repeat of Monday night. Then again, none of the previous boy coaching wonders had quite the temperament of Meyer. "The head coach's job is to get involved in every aspect of the program and turn it over to no one," he said.
That may sound like a control freak, who usually turns into a burned-out coach. But Meyer revels in the big and small of the job. It's as if he was hardwired at birth to be a coach.
Bowling Green had six consecutive losing seasons when it took a chance on Meyer, then the wide receivers coach at Notre Dame, for $125,000 a year. Meyer ran off 20 players, went 8-3 and attendance doubled.
He took his approach to Utah in 2003. Two years later, the Utes were unbeaten and the world recognized a boy genius behind it all.
Well, not everybody in the world. The most important people were Florida's players, many of whom felt Ron Zook had gotten the shaft.
"A lot of guys were growling because a new guy was coming in," linebacker Brandon Siler said. "Then he came in and talked to us and we walked out going, 'You know what, we may have a chance to win a national championship.'"
You know what, they did.
Meyer's two-year cycle of success has produced the ultimate reward. The only downside, if it can be called that, is where do you go from here.
Steve Spurrier won it all in 1996. It wasn't long before he felt underappreciated by fans wondering why 11-win seasons weren't automatic.
Meyer's name inevitably will start coming up for NFL jobs. He might need a new challenge. He might feel a home-state tug and want to one day yell, "How 'Bout Them Browns?"
Or he might stay right where he is. Whatever his destiny, one thing seems certain.
"He's just one of those guys," Smith said, "who's always looking to get better."
Can it get any better than this?
Like believers staring at the Sistine Chapel's chimney, Gator fans can't wait to find out.