Time Really Does Fly
#. November 28, 2022
#-1. Athens, Georgia, United States
#-2. University of Georgia
#-3. Butts-Mehre Heritage Hall
#-4. House of Payne
"The team's energy is fantastic."
"Haha. That's our pride and joy."
Jere Morehead, president of the University of Georgia, beamed at the compliment from the SEC Network's college football analyst.
Roman Harper had joined the roster of video shoots and interviews leading up to Saturday's championship game. Right now, his gaze was fixed on Moi.
"He's a fine leader on the practice field, too."
"Exemplary. I've never seen a young man like him. Flashy without ever rubbing anyone the wrong way, eye-catching without ever being grating — he's a rare breed."
…
With the Alabama Crimson Tide failing to reach this year's SEC Championship Game, the doubts piling up around Bryce Young showed no sign of stopping. Negative stories were resurfacing in force — about the Week 10 loss to LSU that decided the season's fate, and about the poor showing in the Tennessee game three weeks prior.
Some defended Bryce Young, arguing that being measured against Dwayne Moi Stone was a handicap in itself, but the prevailing outlook was that he was headed down the well-worn path of failed high-round quarterbacks.
Roman Harper, who had visited Alabama's practice facility a few months back, found himself in quiet agreement with the criticism. Not that he ever showed it outwardly. He had built good relationships with SEC schools by keeping a comfortable distance and writing articles as neutral as possible, so burying his personal opinions in his chest had long since become habit.
But even a man like him was certain of one thing.
Dwayne Moi Stone looked good.
From Georgia insiders to the far corners of the college football world, nothing but positive words poured from every mouth that spoke his name.
That was an extremely rare thing.
"Coach."
Slipping into the brief lull in practice, Roman Harper approached Georgia's head coach, Kirby Smart. The two had known each other for years, and fortunately had always maintained a perfectly cordial relationship. What followed was an off-the-record conversation.
"BJ is sharpening his knives, I hear."
"Haha. He's a good kid."
"That kid's grudge is aimed squarely at you."
"I know. But it was for the good of the team's discipline."
The BJ they were speaking of was the younger brother of Azeez Ojulari, who had played at Georgia until two years ago.
Like his older brother, BJ Ojulari had played at Marietta High School near Athens, and he had waited desperately for a scholarship offer from Georgia — but none ever came from Kirby Smart. Kirby Smart had worried that the Ojulari brothers' fierce bond, combined with their forceful personalities, would breed a faction within the team. So the Georgia head coach turned his back on Azeez's younger brother, and BJ initially declared he would play at Tennessee before veering off at the last second, before putting pen to paper, and chose LSU instead.
A linebacker like his brother, BJ was currently projected as a guaranteed top-two-round pick in next year's draft. And at the same time, wanting revenge on the man who had snubbed him, he intended to prove himself in the SEC Championship Game.
Kirby Smart, however, wasn't worried in the least.
Because he believed in his team's quarterback.
"BJ has his motivation, sure — but so does every single player on this team. And frankly, I doubt something that small will move the needle. Call me arrogant if you like, but that's just how it feels right now. This team simply does not seem capable of losing."
"…That's quite the confidence you have there."
"Haha. May as well enjoy it while I can."
"A wise call."
Forty-two straight wins since 2020, when the age of Dwayne Moi Stone began. Counting last year's bowl game, forty-three — the second-longest streak in NCAA D1 FBS history. If Georgia won all three remaining games this year, it would reach forty-six, and two more wins next year would shatter the record Oklahoma had held for over sixty years.
The atmosphere of a Georgia team making history alongside Dwayne Moi Stone was, as ever, lively and cheerful today too. Laughter rolled across every corner of the practice field.
#. November 29, 2022
#-1. Baton Rouge, Louisiana, United States
#-2. Louisiana State University
#-3. LSU Football Operations Center
#-4. Meeting Room
This year's LSU was yet another case study proving the importance of coaching.
Ed Orgeron, who had lifted the team to the summit with a perfect season in 2019, had gradually faded from that point on, bottoming out with a mediocre 6-7 record the previous year. The steady exodus of his coaching staff was to blame.
DC Dave Aranda, who had driven LSU's success alongside Orgeron, leaving to become Baylor's head coach hurt especially badly. And shifting a perfectly capable OC into an analyst role while hiring a coach who had already failed in the NFL proved a failure in its own right.
One personnel catastrophe after another. Having failed miserably in the single most important competency for a head coach, LSU fired Ed Orgeron and hunted desperately for a new man to lead them.
That was when their eyes fell on Brian Kelly, who had seemed destined to stay at Notre Dame forever. LSU moved immediately. Everyone expected the courtship to be difficult, but when offered more than triple his Notre Dame salary, Brian Kelly signed without a moment's hesitation.
A great coach switching conferences. The results were immediate.
"We have to match their tempo."
…
"Forget worrying about points given up. We go for scoring more than they do. We can't win a war on both fronts anyway — it's only right to probe the front where we actually have a chance."
Having succeeded at Notre Dame and then again at LSU, Brian Kelly had shed most of the labels that had clung to him. And this time he'd taken over an LSU team that had finished dead last in the SEC West the year before and led them straight to a division title — so nobody voiced the old criticisms anymore.
A diverse array of offensive schemes, unconstrained by any single philosophy. A fluid defense that shifted between 3-4 and 4-3. Brian Kelly's philosophy had dramatically developed LSU's players, and the expressions on their faces as they took the field were brighter than anyone could have imagined before.
This was the biggest change Brian Kelly had brought.
"It really won't be easy, will it."
"No. It's the greatest team of all time."
"Whew— you really think so?"
"The results speak for themselves. You have to give credit where it's due. Last year's and this year's Georgia are the greatest team in NCAA history. Not a single weakness at any position. There's only so much as a crack to poke at."
While not quite last year's level, this year's Georgia was still allowing the fewest points in D1 FBS.
But what was scarier still was the offense — not merely the best in D1 FBS, but producing the most total points and the highest per-game scoring average in the history of college football.
That was why Brian Kelly was pushing his big-picture plan of answering Georgia's scoring with offense of their own, rather than trying to strangle it defensively.
"Good grief. I've never seen a team like this."
"Kirby Smart is blessed."
"He truly is."
"Shall we grab a coffee?"
"Now you're talking."
Back in his office, Brian Kelly brewed a warm cup of coffee for Mike Denbrock, the team's OC he had been reunited with this year.
The two had worked together at Notre Dame in the past, and Mike Denbrock had signed on as the Cincinnati Bengals' OC in 2017, showing excellent ability through last season. Even with a quarterback forced to survive behind an offensive line neglected by a franchise culture that refused to invest in it, Joe Burrow had managed to shine thanks to Denbrock's skill. In particular, the Bengals' run to the Super Bowl the previous year had finally taught the front office how much offensive linemen mattered.
The result: Cincinnati invested heavily in its O-line this year, and on that foundation finds itself on the doorstep of the playoffs once again.
Assembling an offensive line built around an elite quarterback — that is Mike Denbrock's greatest specialty. Thanks to it, Jayden Daniels' game had taken an enormous leap this year, and with a massive class of quarterbacks headed to the NFL next year, people were already saying he would be the best QB in the NCAA.
It was no exaggeration to say that LSU's current success owed itself to Brian Kelly's astute staffing and Mike Denbrock.
"Honestly, it feels like challenging the impossible."
"…They're strong."
"They are. I can't draw a picture of us winning. That's a first for me, too. I keep feeling like I'll have to draw up some vague plan and gamble everything on game day. We might put up 40 points — and Georgia would put up 60 right back."
LSU's defense this year was actually quite good. Several solid edges lined up along the D-line, and Jay Ward and Jayrik Bernard-Coverse made a fine pairing in the secondary. When it came to the BJ Ojulari-led assault on the quarterback, they could claim to be every bit Georgia's equal.
Even Alabama's Bryce Young had struggled against exactly that, and so had every quarterback who faced LSU this year.
But Georgia's quarterback would be different.
No — it looked all but certain he would be.
"We'd better hope Matt brings his best."
"He's going to have his hands full."
The LSU head coach and OC, hoping DC Matt House would rise to the occasion, were preparing for the championship game wrapped in worry far heavier than hope.
#. December 1, 2022
#-1. Athens, Georgia, United States
#-2. University of Georgia
#-3. Butts-Mehre Heritage Hall
#-4. Quarterbacks Room
Every team develops its own identity from the makeup of its roster, and opposing teams prepare their game plans around it. That's Football 101, really.
But that identity is multidimensional, wearing many different faces — and to keep any one of them from collapsing under pressure, the best environment is one where all sorts of opinions can surface freely.
By that measure, Coach Todd Monken is an excellent man. His mouth runs a little rough, sure, but his ears are always open to what others have to say. He listens seriously to a freshman's idea first, then lays out the good and the bad of it without holding anything back.
Some of the guys found it a bit awkward at first, but by now the atmosphere feels completely natural. The offense's collective read of opposing defenses had improved dramatically since last year precisely because everyone had learned to lend their ear to every corner of the room.
This time was no different.
"These guys have no brakes."
"That does seem to be their tendency."
"They'll floor the accelerator out of nowhere."
"And then ride the momentum."
LSU's schedule this year had been easier than ours. They'd played only three AP-ranked teams all season.
Most people would assume those ranked matchups are the games we'd study most closely, but what we actually zeroed in on were all the other games — to catalog the reckless, gambler's patterns that only show up against overmatched opponents.
The conclusion from our early-week meetings: LSU might well come at us with weekend-gambler's choices, and both the offense and the defense were building their plans with that in mind.
The gamble our offense expected from LSU was simple — attacking the quarterback without ever looking back.
Pass rush. Blitz. In a 4-3 look, both defensive tackles set wide left and right with two inside linebackers stacked behind them, all of it charging at me. It happens to be a position group where LSU has stockpiled a lot of their best talent, and given that their cornerbacks are strong and aggressive while their linebackers lag behind on the back end, the inference holds up well.
If they've already concluded they can't stop our offense outright, then a gamble beats playing it straight. An approach like that sends the pace of possessions soaring — and the faster the swings, the more chaos factors pile up.
Besides, LSU's quarterback Jayden Daniels is still green, but he gives the impression of a guy who'll take what you give him. Against strong teams, he seems to carry the tools to manufacture an upset or two, no question.
"So when are you going to make your announcement?"
"Not thinking about it."
"Fair enough. Not like a guy like you needs to."
Walking out of the meeting alongside Coach Monken, we traded a few words about the future.
And then—
"I might end up going to the NFL."
"Really?"
"Nothing's set, but I've gotten a few calls. I'll think it over once the season's done, but I don't imagine I'll be here next year."
"Damn—! Congratulations, Coach!"
"Heh. Is that something to congratulate?"
"You'll be making more money, won't you?"
"I suppose."
"Then congratulations it is."
"Ha!"
"Haha. Anyway — I'm headed this way."
"Right. Good work today."
Since the meeting had come after dinner, the halls of Butts-Mehre were nearly empty now. I walked down the white, silent corridor, stepped out into the great atrium, exchanged a hearty greeting with the night security guard, and bundled my coat tight at the door.
December already. Time really does fly.
Beanie, earplugs, mask, gloves — all of it on, then the zipper of my long puffer jacket pulled all the way up. I stretched my hands out in front of me.
Mm—
Not bad at all.
I'd gotten used enough to Athens winters that leaving them behind felt plausible — though I was never going to stay here long anyway. And yet I love this place. Because it's the community I belonged to.
Halfway across the parking lot, what Coach Monken had said floated back to me, and I stopped in my tracks and looked up at the sky for a while.
The feeling of a generation coming to an end. What will become of the ones left behind?
I could tell myself it's no longer my business — but I didn't want to be that cold. So I resolved that wherever I go from here, I'll cheer for this place, for UGA, to the very end.
And to prove it, I'll dedicate this year's championship trophy to everyone on this campus.
Exactly two of them.
The Athens night, two hours shy of midnight. Light and laughter spilling into every corner.
#. December 3, 2022
#-1. Atlanta, Georgia, United States
#-2. Mercedes-Benz Stadium
LSU (14) — 00 : 00 —
Georgia (1) — 00 : 00 —
With the Atlanta Falcons having effectively fallen out of the TFM race last week, the SEC Championship Game held in their home stadium had become, quite literally, someone else's party.
The Moi jerseys that had been so easy to spot on the city streets just days before had vanished entirely. And with countless SEC Championship tickets flooding eBay and the like as sellers dumped their seats, the stadium filled not with people in Falcons colors but with fans wearing Georgia and LSU.
WE WANT MOI and MOI 'TIL I DIE were gone from Mercedes-Benz Stadium. No Falcons staff were here today, either. They had accepted reality long ago.
A few souls who couldn't quite let go of hope to the last were still wearing the No. 14 jersey with Moi's name on it — but they were too busy absorbing commentary from everyone around them to enjoy the moment.
Then the stadium announcer's voice rang out, and under the lights the players of both teams emerged from their respective tunnels. Kirby Smart and Brian Kelly stood at the very front, sprinting their squads toward each sideline, and when the long procession finally ended, the crowd turned — as if on cue — toward Georgia's tunnel.
The instant that huge silhouette appeared between the dimmed lights and the billowing smoke, Georgia's fans erupted in cheers while LSU's fans booed, or simply went silent.
One thing seemed certain.
'A star.'
Bruce Feldman, the renowned college football reporter seated in the press box, marveled at the atmosphere in the stadium. ESPN, CBS, Fox Sports — demand for his coverage was so vast across so many outlets that this was actually his first time watching a Georgia game in person.
And right now, the sight of Dwayne Moi Stone brought Ray Lewis to his mind effortlessly. It felt as though the shadow of that legend — the most dazzling, most dynamic figure in American football history, a man whose mere entrance sent waves of energy through the crowd — had attached itself to Georgia's quarterback.
And that was an exceedingly rare thing.
For a quarterback, of all people, to carry that aura.
Pop!
Pop-pop!
Small bursts of pyrotechnics fired off one after another, and after the Haka — by now known to every man, woman, and child in the country — Dwayne Moi Stone tore down the tunnel like the wind and sprinted toward where his Georgia teammates waited. The broadcast cameras trailed his every movement like a shadow.
According to the Real-time data relayed to Bruce Feldman in real time, the viewership had spiked by 2.6 percent at the moment of Dwayne Moi Stone's entrance. Considering that the average SEC Championship rating before 2020 had hovered between 6.5 and 8.5 percent, a jump of 2.6 points was extraordinary.
Bzzt—
<Estimated current viewership: 14.2%>
'14.2?'
Bzzt—
<Up 3.1% from last year; an estimated 30 to 35 million viewers are expected to watch the SEC Championship Game on CBS>
'Insane.'
Numbers don't lie. Bruce Feldman, who had worked in show business and learned that truth better than anyone, believed that Dwayne Moi Stone's star power and marketability had already climbed to the very top tier of the NFL.
Dwayne Moi Stone's final SEC Championship.
So many people were hoping for a spectacular finale.