It's a thin line between confidence, which is suave and good, and arrogance, which is poisonous and bad.
For my money, that line was never more succinctly described than by the 26th President of the United States, Teddy Roosevelt (peace be upon him), when he said his foreign policy was to "speak softly and carry a big stick."
Confidence doesn't come from words passing through one's lips. Sure, Floyd Mayweather seems like walking wrecking ball to this theory, but Money Mayweather is an even greater showman than he is boxer (and he's the world's best boxer).
Boxing, mixed-martial arts, professional wrestling, and the need for pay-per-view buys aside, however, I think it's a principle that holds true, especially in team sports like college football.
It's why I laughed in 2012 at Michigan #croots flapping their gums at Urban Meyer and Ohio State before even stepping on the field. (Feel free to look up their records against OSU since.)
It's also why I cringed when Evan Spencer issued his out-of-character (albeit infamous) 2013 proclamation:
"I think we'd wipe the floor with both of them."– Evan Spencer talking about FSU and Alabama, 11/11/2013
Consider the facts at the time: Ohio State was on a 21-0 streak extending back to 2012. Admittedly, it was due to circumstances out of their control, but up until that time, Urban Meyer's Ohio State feasted on a historically weak schedule and hadn't won, and thus proven, diddly shit.
Would that Ohio State team have wiped the floor with Alabama and (eventual champion) Florida State? We'll never know, because Mark Dantonio's Michigan State put that team's championship hopes to sleep in the fourth quarter in Indianapolis.
Evan Spencer, despite his usual superb blocking efforts, did not register a single catch in the game. I'm sure nobody here needs a refresher on the 2014 Orange Bowl, either.
Did arrogance have a bit to play in those results? I believe so.
Fast forward to this year, and I think that double dose of humility to close the 2013-14 campaign was a blessing. Loss and humility can be the perfect storm of motivation, and it's obvious Urban Meyer (and his entire staff) realized that.
The proof, after all, is in the pudding.
Let's pretend for a second Braxton Miller went pro (and has the upstart Cleveland Browns in the playoffs). Ohio State lost its two offensive talismans, its best wide receiver, four-fifths of its offensive line (three of which started an NFL playoff game), its two best defenders... and somehow got better.
That's the definition of turning an L into a W, which is what separates the coaching elites like Urban Meyer from "good" coaches like Oklahoma's Bob Stoops. (Urban used the Virginia Tech defeat to get better. Bob Stoops used his team's fifth loss, a 34-point shellacking at the hands of Clemson in the Citrus Bowl, to remind people he beat Alabama once upon a time.)
This year, however, there have been no pregame proclamations of floor wiping from the Buckeyes, just as there were no excuses after the Virginia Tech game.
That's because it's as Focus3's Brian Kight told me back in August: This Ohio State team always knew its identity as much as its ability, and its confidence — not arrogance — in those beliefs were unshakable. When that's realized... this season's outcome starts to make a lot more sense.
And that's why, in the lead-up to a non-hypothetical match-up with Alabama, there was no pregame puffery from Evan Spencer, even though I'm sure he believed the results would be the same.
This time around, however, Ohio State's unheralded senior only posted one catch for seven yards, but he sprang a key block in Ezekiel Elliott's 85-yard dagger and linked up with Michael Thomas — a guy who also knows a thing or two about the trappings of arrogance (and is oddly never mentioned as a guy who could go pro) — for a bit of magic that will live in Ohio State trick play lore:
(Seriously, why aren't people talking about Thomas as a pro prospect?)
That was the play that let the country know Ohio State wasn't about to roll over the mighty Alabama Tide as pretty much everyone outside the great state of Ohio predicted.
And it let Alabama know it was in a for a knife fight. Did Alabama expect a fight for all four quarters? Well, consider this pregame post from one of its best players:
Was All-American (and future NFL first-rounder) Landon Collins ready for a back-alley knife fight? You tell me:
Scott Donaldson/Icon Sportswire
(Verdict: He wasn't ready.)
So, regardless of the score of tomorrow night's game, it's been a pleasure to watch this team carry itself with a subdued swagger that would make Marlo Stanfield swell up with father-like pride. I've only been alive since 1986, but this is easily the most likable team for which I've rooted in any sport.
The national media threw Ohio State in a shallow, unmarked grave somewhere outside of Pataskala after the Virginia Tech fiasco. A little over four months later, the Buckeyes stand on the cusp of the school's eighth championship.
One might say Ohio State did the damn thing on its enemies. Another might say it walked softly and carried a big stick. But no matter tomorrow night's outcome, one thing is certain: They'd both be right.
