Offensive jugger ... not; LSU loses 13-3| by Carl Dubois on Oct 11, 2009 at 1:29 am |  | |
Florida's linemen were superior to LSU's. Urban Meyer and his staff were better than Les Miles and his staff. Tim Tebow, at less than Superman strength, was far better than Jordan Jefferson.
Florida is better than LSU.
Gators 13, Tigers 3.
Miles wants you to believe that statistics, such as LSU's ranking in total offense, don't mean anything. Often, I'm leading the charge against reading too much into stats, especially in the first half of a season.
There is no shortage of numbers that tell the story of the game Saturday night in Tiger Stadium.
LSU was 1-for-9 on third down. A Florida offense tweaked to protect Tebow and still benefit from his game management and competitive fire outgained the Tigers 327 yards to 162.
Yards per rush: Florida 4.0, LSU 2.2. Yards per pass: Florida 8.4, LSU 5.6.
The Gators had the ball 13 minutes longer than LSU, which gave Florida another 64 yards in penalties. And, the LSU offense's best yards-per-touch threat of early-season victories against unranked teams was nowhere to be found against the top-ranked team in the country, whether by design or circumstance.
LSU, which on offense has looked like a team that can't figure out what it wants to do, scored three points and looked puzzled as to how to score more.
It's tempting to say Miles had his Hat handed to him, but in truth it was more like he surrendered it.
Meyer came into the Death Valley Saloon with a few rowdy friends who jangled their spurs when they stepped hard on the Welcome mat, grabbed whatever they felt like and got away with it -- and waited to see if anyone would put them in their place.
Miles was the spitting image of the saloon keeper hoping the troublemakers would stop instead of being able to do something about it. Tiger Stadium was Lago without The Stranger, "High Plains Drifter" without Clint Eastwood. Miles without The Hat.
And with the townfolk looking around waiting for someone to save the day.
All hat, no cattle
The stage was set. A record crowd descended upon the campus. Sales of alligator meat were up all over Baton Rouge. It would have been a good week to have a Gator-fil-A franchise here.
LSU's "wear gold" campaign worked beautifully. From the aerial shots, Tiger Stadium was the mother lode.
There was "A Very Special Episode of the 6 O'Clock News" on at least two local stations. The only actual news that happened between 6 o'clock and kickoff -- the Gators jumping up and down on the midfield eye of the Tiger, and officials having to step in as LSU players approached them -- was off camera while talking heads hyped the game from the sideline.
If the CBS Sports cameras captured the moment, they didn't let the rest of us in on it.
LSU hadn't lost a Saturday night home game since 2002, a streak of 30 games if you go by the NCAA definition of a night game (6 p.m. local time) and 32 games if you use LSU's list. The latter included the 2004 game against Oregon State and the 2006 game against Arizona, both of which started before 6.
Tommy Casanova's jersey was ... well, I don't know what to call it, but LSU needs to come up with another word for it when the school "retires" someone's jersey and allows a player to continue wearing his number. Still, the crowd loved it, and it brought back memories of that 28-8 defeat of Notre Dame on prime time television in 1971.
Rahim Alem was urging LSU fans to make some noise -- and they had been since before the opening kickoff -- with Florida backed up deep in its territory early in the game. There were all kinds of other reasons to make yourself think this could be LSU's night, except for the most crucial elements.
For too much of the game, the Tigers were drugstore cowboys, dressed for the part but unable to win a real gunfight. If you're waiting for proof they brought bullets for their pistols, you're not alone.
In-game notebook
Man, Jeff Demps is fast. Emmanuel Moody is stronger than I thought. Thirty years after those great USC tailbacks played one of the most memorable games in Tiger Stadium history, here comes another -- by way of the transfer rule.
Offside, LSU. Offside, LSU. Offside, LSU. Offside, LSU.
Man, Patrick Peterson is fast.
Florida takes a 3-0 lead with 3:50 left in first quarter on a 28-yard field goal. The Gators get an early lead and burn a lot of clock. If that's a sign of things to come, LSU's in trouble.
Nice run by Charles Scott with Florida's defense spread out and blocked well.
Still, this LSU offense could use Matt Flynn, if for no other reason than to play the Matt Damon role in an update of "The Bourne Identity." Who am I? I have all these papers with different identities on them. Which is the real me?
Are we headed for No. 2 LSU at No. 1 Alabama in November?
That's a question I wrote down early in the game. Later, I scribbled the answer: No.
Yellow, not gold
There was too much yellow on the field, and by that I mean penalty flags against LSU's defensive linemen. Kudos to CBS for relaying the complaint of Miles and John Chavis about the head movements by Florida center Maurkice Pouncey and their effect upon LSU's front four.
But there is no excuse for lining up offside, especially after you've already been penalized for it.
For too much of the game, the Tigers looked undisciplined and uncoached.
There was not enough yellow on the field, and by that I mean Riley Cooper got away with holding, sling-shotting his way past Chris Hawkins for the touchdown reception that gave Florida a 10-3 halftime lead.
It happens. You have to overcome, and LSU didn't.
Speaking of the officials ...
There were times when it seemed the whistle came quickly to mark the end of Tebow's forward progress, and perhaps the reason was a subconscious desire -- not a sinister one -- to protect him. A pre-concussion Tebow would have been allowed to see if he could move the pile, but instead, the whistle appeared to cost LSU a strip and a Florida turnover.
But the better team still won.
Better, and better prepared
Miles was his usual my-mouth-is-moving-yet-I-am-not-saying-anything self when he downplayed the challenge of practicing for two different types of Florida quarterbacks, but in the end LSU looked unprepared for Florida and its game plan.
The dives, the Tebow Lite approach -- should we call him T-Tebow for now, like Bobby Hebert's son is T-Bob? -- and a few other tweaks by Meyer helped Florida survive a missed field goal and a few decisions that backfired.
He and his staff outcoached Miles and Co. Did I say that already?
Tebow would get in trouble, and then he was trouble -- scrambling and softening LSU's defense. Then, he and Cooper teamed up like a two-man pickpocket team to steal one.
For a brief stretch, you saw Jefferson make a nifty run, then connect with Brandon LaFell on a well-conceived route, and LSU's line helped make things happen by moving the Gators back. It didn't last.
Jefferson threw an interception. The Tigers couldn't take advantage of a short kickoff. LSU missed a chance to score before the end of the half. Sound familiar?
With a lead, Florida looked like a team in no hurry, knowing time was on its side. Five yards a pop was fine, and if the Gators got more, that was fine too. But, the object was to keep the ball from LSU's offense.
Florida put itself in position to use time as its ally, and LSU didn't. I don't know if the Tigers know how. Time is not often their friend.
The Gators didn't take advantage of all their scoring opportunities, but they chewed up enough clock for it not to matter.
I said LSU needed to simplify and streamline its playbook, and that was widely misunderstood. This offense can't come close to doing all the coaches have been asking it to do, so pruning some of the clutter is advisable.
That doesn't mean resigning themselves to being predictable, but it does require a plan to identify what can work, what can keep defenses off balance and what's just information overload for a quarterback who isn't entirely ready.
Ironically, Florida took care of reducing LSU's playbook, limiting the Tigers' snaps and their choices by being in control of the ballgame and the clock.
The good, the bad and the ugly
LSU's option is far from great, but at times it looked better. The Tigers are more effective when they spread out a defense and run directly through the gaps.
Those are byproduct yards, gains that should be credited, with an asterisk, to the option. They're getting something for their investment in the option, if not always on the option plays themselves.
But if you can't get more out of the option than that, what do you do with Jefferson?
He needs to understand that two bad things happened each time he was sacked. One, LSU lost yardage. Two, the clock kept running, so LSU lost time.
Throwing the ball away stops the clock, important on a night when Florida was in control and led in time of possession -- and on the scoreboard. LSU had no chance for a comeback without understanding the role time played in this game.
The Tigers didn't seem to grasp how valuable every second was after falling behind. They failed to get a play off before the end of the third quarter, and that was telling.
LSU looked like a program run by amateurs on the failed fourth-down attempt in the fourth quarter. The Tigers appeared confused and turned it over on downs.
Tebow gave them a gift with the interception, but you knew LSU would be unable to do anything with it.
This team's lack of attention to detail is going to turn 10-2 talent into an 8-4 season if they're not careful.
Final thoughts
Florida showed the difference between a team with a seasoned senior quarterback and a team that should have one but doesn't. Florida illustrated what Gary Danielson of CBS described as a matchup between a team with a game-changing defensive line and a team that lacks one.
That difference helped Florida prevail without a full-throttle Tebow and the usual playbook. Credit Meyer and his staff for compensation with a smart game plan.
With all of that said, it was still a close game. Except for some penalties, LSU's defense should apologize to no one. Neither of LSU's national championship teams held Florida to 13 points, not even the one that played against a freshman Chris Leak.
The defense played well enough to win.
Three points on LSU's side of the scoreboard? Even against a defense like Florida has, it means the Tigers aren't close to being what they aspire to be as an offense.
They need to figure out their identity fast, or they're in trouble against SEC teams that can outscore them.
The scariest thing for LSU fans right now is the prospect of this harsh reality: Miles and his staff already know what they've got and can't find ways when they're scripting game plans to work around the shortcomings.
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Carl Dubois has written or blogged about LSU sports since 1999. He apologizes for the long post, but he had a lot to say about this game. There's plenty more to discuss, and he's certain readers will contribute their insights and discuss things he didn't touch on in this column. You can contact him at carl1061 'at' gmail.com.
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