We’re now four years removed from the biggest upset in Pac-12 history, two years removed from what’s your deal?, one year removed from a comeback victory that went completely unnoticed, and believe me: Stanford doesn’t think of U.S.C. as U.S.C. anymore. Now, the acronym means the same — University of Southern California and all that — but the meaning behind the letters, the unquestioned confidence and attitude? That’s lost on Stanford, which boasts a roster that can be split into the following categories:
Those who were recruited with the 2007 win at U.S.C., a win that came as 41-point underdogs, as a selling point. Those recruits, now seniors or fourth-year juniors, came into Palo Alto with the knowledge that the Trojans were far from unbeatable; this was a change.
Those who came of age in 2009, when Toby Gerhart’s two-point conversion attempt failed at scoring but succeeded at completely decimating the Trojans’ sense of invulnerability. It remains college football’s most important two-point failure since Nebraska tried and failed against Miami in early 1984.
Those who came of age in 2009 and matured further in 2010, when Stanford took U.S.C. a little too lightly but still escaped, 37-35, thanks to a game-winning field goal as time expired.
Those who arrived either last fall or this fall, are now true or redshirt freshmen, and know nothing but Stanford domination of U.S.C. in this conference rivalry.
The entire roster, from top to bottom, scholarship and walk-on alike, fit into one supreme category: no one — absolutely, positively not one single Cardinal — thinks they shouldn’t have their way with U.S.C. later tonight.
This isn’t swagger, not in the U.S.C. sense of the word. It’s not entitlement. What Stanford has is confidence, and don’t mistake this quality with cockiness, that fatal flaw. There was cockiness back in 2009, when Jim Harbaugh called for two, but it was cockiness with a purpose: we’re going to knock your block off.
But this team is different. Stanford is professional. Stanford is an N.F.L. team masquerading as a college team, not in terms of talent but in the way the team carries itself between the white lines. Not merely in the play-calling or the game-planning, but in the way the Cardinal approach every single play with a methodical approach bordering on the homicidal.
If you’re the opposition, that is. Stanford doesn’t lull you to sleep as much as take out its book, hit you on the head with it and knock you out. It’s subtle, but not really. And just when you think you’ve figured the Cardinal out
Andrew Luck’s the star. But then he’s not; then the star is the running game, which churned out 446 yards on the ground against Washington, which entered last Saturday ranked third in the Pac-12 in rushing. They left Saturday ranked seventh.
That’s not entirely pleasant news for U.S.C., which enters tonight ranked second in the conference in rushing. But it gets worse: U.S.C. is ranked 102nd nationally in pass defense, which is music to Luck’s ears.
I don’t get the impression it would matter for Stanford if the Trojans were ranked second in the country against the pass. The Cardinal take and take, as good teams do, and don’t bend — they make you bend, flexing until you break, much as the Huskies did a week ago.
And the Cardinal do so without so much as getting dirty: every win thus far in 2011 has come by at least 27 points, and the Cardinal have won 10 straight by at least 25 points — an F.B.S. first since 1936. The only team to sniff Stanford was Arizona, which trailed by only six points at halftime; the Wildcats eventually lost by 27 points.
It wasn’t much of a sniff. And U.S.C., should it be so lucky, will only get a slightly stronger whiff of the Cardinal before falling under the eventual and unavoidable onslaught, much as the last 10 teams to challenge Stanford have done.
It’s not longer 2007 in Palo Alto. If it was, U.S.C. could take the field at the Coliseum chagrined but confident. It’s no longer 2009. If it was, U.S.C. could write off a dreadful loss as an embarrassing but survivable event. It’s not even 2010, where the two still seemed to inhabit the same stratosphere.
It’s 2011, and an already distinct gap has become a nearly impassable chasm. There’s Stanford, professional and methodical Stanford, and there’s U.S.C., strong but inconsistent U.S.C., and the way these two ships have passed in the night says much as about where the Pac-12 was, where the Pac-12 is today and where the Pac-12 may be tomorrow.
Similar Posts:
- High-Flying Meets High-Octane
- 2010 End-of-Year Awards: Pac-10
- Forecasting the Sun Belt in 2011
- Athletics Update – June 2: RUGBY CITY CHAMPIONS!!!
- By Definition, A Must-Win
Post Comment