Interesting acticle from Matthew Zemek at cfbnews.com. He's written about mental toughness several times; this article contains a nice paragraph on the 2002 Buckeyes.
I have edited out the middle half of the article, which dealt with college basketball.
http://www.cfbnews.com/2005/Preview/MZ/MentalToughness.htm
As April hits the calendar--and college football teams hit the practice field for spring ball--the diehards at each Division I-A school will begin to size up the physicality, athleticism and raw talent of the boys who will wear the alma mater's colors. Based on these kinds of assessments, predictions will begin to take shape in the dormitories, computer labs and pubs of college towns across America. And to a certain extent, these assessments will have some merit.
But if you're really paying attention to big-time college athletics, you'd realize that the real source of the rise and fall of college football powers will take place not on the practice field, but behind closed doors and within the hearts of the 20-year-olds who are thrust into a larger-than-life spotlight for eleven (maybe twelve) Autumnal Saturdays.
Yes, you can talk about "beef up front" or "lateral quickness" or "speed on the edges" or "every-down durability." It can't be denied that those things have their share of importance in the college football world. But when the rubber really meets the road, college football champs and chumps are determined between the ears and in the privacy of the interactions between players and coaches. Physical excellence will separate the decent teams from the awful ones, but it's mental toughness that distinguishes great teams from merely above-average ballclubs.
Just consider what's transpired in the first half of this decade:
In 2000, Josh Heupel wasn't a superior physical specimen in comparison to Florida State QB Chris Weinke. But who had the steadier head on his shoulders, despite the noticeably weaker arm? Yeah, that's right--the national title-winning signal-caller who merely avoided mistakes and moved the chains. Sexy? No. The last person standing? Yes.
In 2001, Ken Dorsey led Miami to the mountaintop. Was Dorsey the baddest gunslinger in the joint? Hardly--he could be downright pedestrian at times. But the one thing that was never in doubt was Dorsey's total leadership and command, both on the sideline and in the huddle. Ken Dorsey's presence and competitive fire made him a legendary collegiate football player, and his '01 Miami team a great champion. Mental fortitude was Dorsey's greatest competitive asset.
<TABLE cellSpacing=7 width=301 align=right border=0><TBODY><TR><TD width="100%"><TABLE id=table1 cellSpacing=7 width=301 align=right border=0><TBODY><TR><TD align=middle width="100%"><!-- ---------- 300x250 Code -------------- --><!-- ---------- Copyright 2000,---------- --></TD></TR></TBODY></TABLE></TD></TR></TBODY></TABLE>
In 2002, a whole team displayed what it meant to be mentally tough. Ohio State, time and again, persevered amidst fourth-quarter tension and anxiety, while all of its competitors, in one way or another, fatally flinched before the final gun. Were the 2002 Buckeyes big on style points? Clearly not. But they never failed to make the few plays they absolutely had to make, when they absolutely needed to make them. Being mentally strong was the Buckeyes' collective calling card, up and down that entire roster. As a result, Ohio State repeatedly won close games with machine-like regularity, thereby dismissing the notion that a close game was an accident or a sign of weakness. When a team wins nailbiters with virtually perfect and automatic consistency, that's a sign of something much greater and more powerful at work--namely, the human mind.
In 2003, Matt Mauck--not a blindingly awesome passer or dominant physical specimen--nevertheless piloted the LSU Tigers to the national title, armed with gifted skill position people who, though speedy, were also focused and mature enough to make big plays in clutch situations. After the previous year's disappointment--missing out on the SEC West title because of a numbingly devastating last-second loss to Arkansas--Nick Saban rallied his troops by convincing them to turn their greatest athletic setback into their greatest competitive triumph.
And last year, both success stories--official national champ USC and deserving national champ Auburn--both showed how mental toughness, more than anything else, carries a team past its most forceful and formidable obstacles. For USC, joy was the source of an undefeated run under Dr. Feel Good, Pete Carroll, a coach who made and kept the game fun for his players all season long, especially in the laughter-filled Orange Bowl against Oklahoma. For Auburn, high self-esteem and love of coach united the Tigers, who were so thoroughly committed in their support of Tommy Tuberville that they didn't want to let down their embattled coach. Each Saturday became a chance to honor and dignify themselves as a football family, and as a result, Auburn continued to play with purpose and passion in games such as the Sugar Bowl, whereas other teams would have moped around and ultimately suffered a defeat. Though presented with numerous chances to complain and lose focus, Auburn never sulked and drove to the finish line intent on staying perfect. The positive mental attitude that permeated the team, more than Cadillac Williams' skill or even Jason Campbell's right arm, is what truly elevated Auburn to new heights last season.
In college football, talent can provide the year-in, year-out 10-2 top-15 team. But only mental toughness makes champions in this ruthlessly competitive sport.
But just in case you're still not convinced about the centrality of mental toughness within the realm of college football, consider the even larger realm of collegiate sports.
All college sports are unified by the fact that they all involve athletes of the same basic age range: 18-22. As we live longer, one would like to think that we're growing and learning more about ourselves. One thing we hopefully learn as we get older is that we were really dumb--dumber than we ever thought possible--around the time of our 20th birthday. Twenty-year-olds--that's right: college athletes--are extraordinarily fragile mental and emotional creatures. The vulnerability to all sorts of longings, urges, cultural siren songs, teases, tugs and temptations is paramount at this age, and the ability to have tunnel-vision focus is severely limited by the seemingly limitless pressures that assault 20-year-olds in contemporary American life.
<TABLE cellSpacing=4 width=120 align=right border=0><TBODY><TR><TD width="100%"><!-- ---------- Banner Code -------------- --><!-- ---------- Advertising.com ---------- --></TD></TR></TBODY></TABLE>
It should not be a surprise to anyone that in a culture where the average attention span of Americans is 1.6 seconds and falling, 20-year-olds would have a hard time maintaining their focus. Add in the hungers and temptations that accompany big-time athletics, and the attention span can only shrink some more. The age of 20 should not and cannot be viewed as an age of wisdom, but instead as a point in life where a young man is ahead of the curve if he is merely able to begin to contemplate the nature and existence of a larger wisdom in the cosmos.
The enormity of the pressures faced by 20-year-old man-children is the very thing that gives big-time college sports their amazingly entertaining unpredictability and fascinating volatility. When these youngsters are thrust into the glare of the big-game spotlight, they're not already-molded men, but people who are really just beginning to be molded by life, as they emerge from the very small world of the high schools where they were almost certainly the big man on campus, the focus of adoring crowds in close-knit neighborhood communities. Any big-time college athlete will succeed or fail, then, based on whether he or she can cultivate a strong, sound and healthy mental framework. Some college stars will do this by creating a me/us-against-the-world mentality. Others will turn to religious faith. Still others will have a head start on developing mental strength as a result of traumas successfully endured in childhood or adolescence. But regardless of the path taken, those who cultivate that rock-solid emotional interior are the ones who will rise to the moment when a season hangs in the balance. It is the enduring beauty of college sports, the part of the endeavor that truly can be said to mold young people for life; yet, at the same time, it is the source of college sports' fragility, of championship dreams dashed by a moment of weakness.
EDITED OUT BASKETBALL PORTION
Go ahead--dare to say this is hokey and cliched stuff. Feel free to claim that this is psychobabble removed from the real considerations of D-I college football, things like 4.3 40s, 500-pound bench presses, 300-pound lines, off-season weightlifting and strength training, and X-and-O masterminds.
But if you want to take that line of argumentation, just realize that the media crush on college football (and basketball) is intense and all consuming in ways it never used to be 30 or even 20 years ago. Back in the days when saturation media coverage just wasn't very pervasive or overwhelming, the very notion of dealing with the media was not the regular source of external pressure that it is for today's 20-year-old athletes. Pressure from expectant fan bases has been the constant in D-I college sports, but media-reinforced and culturally driven pressure is something that didn't always exist in college football or the NCAA Tournament. Today's 20-year-old athlete has to deal with these externals in a culture that is hostile to soulful contemplation of just about anything that can lead to a fully-established sense of inner peace and sustained concentration. It might not sound like the classic nuts-and-bolts sports analysis that your father's sportswriter would provide before a college football season, but in today's cultural landscape, sports psychology has more than a little significance in deciding college football champions. Mental analysis--if you look at how our major college sports championships are being decided in the first years of the 21st Century--has a lot to do with football analysis. This claim has to stop being viewed as a peripheral concern for college football writers, and thereby be considered as a central, mainstream part of standard football analysis.
I have edited out the middle half of the article, which dealt with college basketball.
http://www.cfbnews.com/2005/Preview/MZ/MentalToughness.htm
As April hits the calendar--and college football teams hit the practice field for spring ball--the diehards at each Division I-A school will begin to size up the physicality, athleticism and raw talent of the boys who will wear the alma mater's colors. Based on these kinds of assessments, predictions will begin to take shape in the dormitories, computer labs and pubs of college towns across America. And to a certain extent, these assessments will have some merit.
But if you're really paying attention to big-time college athletics, you'd realize that the real source of the rise and fall of college football powers will take place not on the practice field, but behind closed doors and within the hearts of the 20-year-olds who are thrust into a larger-than-life spotlight for eleven (maybe twelve) Autumnal Saturdays.
Yes, you can talk about "beef up front" or "lateral quickness" or "speed on the edges" or "every-down durability." It can't be denied that those things have their share of importance in the college football world. But when the rubber really meets the road, college football champs and chumps are determined between the ears and in the privacy of the interactions between players and coaches. Physical excellence will separate the decent teams from the awful ones, but it's mental toughness that distinguishes great teams from merely above-average ballclubs.
Just consider what's transpired in the first half of this decade:
In 2000, Josh Heupel wasn't a superior physical specimen in comparison to Florida State QB Chris Weinke. But who had the steadier head on his shoulders, despite the noticeably weaker arm? Yeah, that's right--the national title-winning signal-caller who merely avoided mistakes and moved the chains. Sexy? No. The last person standing? Yes.
In 2001, Ken Dorsey led Miami to the mountaintop. Was Dorsey the baddest gunslinger in the joint? Hardly--he could be downright pedestrian at times. But the one thing that was never in doubt was Dorsey's total leadership and command, both on the sideline and in the huddle. Ken Dorsey's presence and competitive fire made him a legendary collegiate football player, and his '01 Miami team a great champion. Mental fortitude was Dorsey's greatest competitive asset.
<TABLE cellSpacing=7 width=301 align=right border=0><TBODY><TR><TD width="100%"><TABLE id=table1 cellSpacing=7 width=301 align=right border=0><TBODY><TR><TD align=middle width="100%"><!-- ---------- 300x250 Code -------------- --><!-- ---------- Copyright 2000,---------- --></TD></TR></TBODY></TABLE></TD></TR></TBODY></TABLE>
In 2002, a whole team displayed what it meant to be mentally tough. Ohio State, time and again, persevered amidst fourth-quarter tension and anxiety, while all of its competitors, in one way or another, fatally flinched before the final gun. Were the 2002 Buckeyes big on style points? Clearly not. But they never failed to make the few plays they absolutely had to make, when they absolutely needed to make them. Being mentally strong was the Buckeyes' collective calling card, up and down that entire roster. As a result, Ohio State repeatedly won close games with machine-like regularity, thereby dismissing the notion that a close game was an accident or a sign of weakness. When a team wins nailbiters with virtually perfect and automatic consistency, that's a sign of something much greater and more powerful at work--namely, the human mind.
In 2003, Matt Mauck--not a blindingly awesome passer or dominant physical specimen--nevertheless piloted the LSU Tigers to the national title, armed with gifted skill position people who, though speedy, were also focused and mature enough to make big plays in clutch situations. After the previous year's disappointment--missing out on the SEC West title because of a numbingly devastating last-second loss to Arkansas--Nick Saban rallied his troops by convincing them to turn their greatest athletic setback into their greatest competitive triumph.
And last year, both success stories--official national champ USC and deserving national champ Auburn--both showed how mental toughness, more than anything else, carries a team past its most forceful and formidable obstacles. For USC, joy was the source of an undefeated run under Dr. Feel Good, Pete Carroll, a coach who made and kept the game fun for his players all season long, especially in the laughter-filled Orange Bowl against Oklahoma. For Auburn, high self-esteem and love of coach united the Tigers, who were so thoroughly committed in their support of Tommy Tuberville that they didn't want to let down their embattled coach. Each Saturday became a chance to honor and dignify themselves as a football family, and as a result, Auburn continued to play with purpose and passion in games such as the Sugar Bowl, whereas other teams would have moped around and ultimately suffered a defeat. Though presented with numerous chances to complain and lose focus, Auburn never sulked and drove to the finish line intent on staying perfect. The positive mental attitude that permeated the team, more than Cadillac Williams' skill or even Jason Campbell's right arm, is what truly elevated Auburn to new heights last season.
In college football, talent can provide the year-in, year-out 10-2 top-15 team. But only mental toughness makes champions in this ruthlessly competitive sport.
But just in case you're still not convinced about the centrality of mental toughness within the realm of college football, consider the even larger realm of collegiate sports.
All college sports are unified by the fact that they all involve athletes of the same basic age range: 18-22. As we live longer, one would like to think that we're growing and learning more about ourselves. One thing we hopefully learn as we get older is that we were really dumb--dumber than we ever thought possible--around the time of our 20th birthday. Twenty-year-olds--that's right: college athletes--are extraordinarily fragile mental and emotional creatures. The vulnerability to all sorts of longings, urges, cultural siren songs, teases, tugs and temptations is paramount at this age, and the ability to have tunnel-vision focus is severely limited by the seemingly limitless pressures that assault 20-year-olds in contemporary American life.
<TABLE cellSpacing=4 width=120 align=right border=0><TBODY><TR><TD width="100%"><!-- ---------- Banner Code -------------- --><!-- ---------- Advertising.com ---------- --></TD></TR></TBODY></TABLE>
It should not be a surprise to anyone that in a culture where the average attention span of Americans is 1.6 seconds and falling, 20-year-olds would have a hard time maintaining their focus. Add in the hungers and temptations that accompany big-time athletics, and the attention span can only shrink some more. The age of 20 should not and cannot be viewed as an age of wisdom, but instead as a point in life where a young man is ahead of the curve if he is merely able to begin to contemplate the nature and existence of a larger wisdom in the cosmos.
The enormity of the pressures faced by 20-year-old man-children is the very thing that gives big-time college sports their amazingly entertaining unpredictability and fascinating volatility. When these youngsters are thrust into the glare of the big-game spotlight, they're not already-molded men, but people who are really just beginning to be molded by life, as they emerge from the very small world of the high schools where they were almost certainly the big man on campus, the focus of adoring crowds in close-knit neighborhood communities. Any big-time college athlete will succeed or fail, then, based on whether he or she can cultivate a strong, sound and healthy mental framework. Some college stars will do this by creating a me/us-against-the-world mentality. Others will turn to religious faith. Still others will have a head start on developing mental strength as a result of traumas successfully endured in childhood or adolescence. But regardless of the path taken, those who cultivate that rock-solid emotional interior are the ones who will rise to the moment when a season hangs in the balance. It is the enduring beauty of college sports, the part of the endeavor that truly can be said to mold young people for life; yet, at the same time, it is the source of college sports' fragility, of championship dreams dashed by a moment of weakness.
EDITED OUT BASKETBALL PORTION
Go ahead--dare to say this is hokey and cliched stuff. Feel free to claim that this is psychobabble removed from the real considerations of D-I college football, things like 4.3 40s, 500-pound bench presses, 300-pound lines, off-season weightlifting and strength training, and X-and-O masterminds.
But if you want to take that line of argumentation, just realize that the media crush on college football (and basketball) is intense and all consuming in ways it never used to be 30 or even 20 years ago. Back in the days when saturation media coverage just wasn't very pervasive or overwhelming, the very notion of dealing with the media was not the regular source of external pressure that it is for today's 20-year-old athletes. Pressure from expectant fan bases has been the constant in D-I college sports, but media-reinforced and culturally driven pressure is something that didn't always exist in college football or the NCAA Tournament. Today's 20-year-old athlete has to deal with these externals in a culture that is hostile to soulful contemplation of just about anything that can lead to a fully-established sense of inner peace and sustained concentration. It might not sound like the classic nuts-and-bolts sports analysis that your father's sportswriter would provide before a college football season, but in today's cultural landscape, sports psychology has more than a little significance in deciding college football champions. Mental analysis--if you look at how our major college sports championships are being decided in the first years of the 21st Century--has a lot to do with football analysis. This claim has to stop being viewed as a peripheral concern for college football writers, and thereby be considered as a central, mainstream part of standard football analysis.
