Column: Old-School Quarterback Says It’s Jaxson Dart’s Turn to Prove ‘Em All Wrong
OXFORD, Miss. — Jaxson Dart and his Ole Miss team take on Georgia at 2:30 p.m. Saturday in a game with monumental playoff implications for the Rebels. Simply put, it will be the biggest game of Dart’s career up to now. That got me thinking about my own time as a college quarterback and what it’s like to be on the big stage.
It’s a fact of life that there will be times when you’ve just got to prove ‘em wrong. Even more so when the clock is ticking down to 0:00 on your season.
In backyard games as kids, the self-appointed announcer (who was always me) broadcast to all the players the situation, the crowd noise, and the pressure of the moment. It’s how we would test ourselves, see who came through…and single out the “all you others” who didn’t rise to the occasion.
Who got beat on the game-winning bomb, or who missed a wide-open touchdown? It lives with you, these small victories and defeats, and molds you into the competitor you will one day become.
The more pressure the “announcer” could add to the drama, the better. In a way, it was a self-prophetic model of preparation for when the moment would actually be real, be televised, with thousands in an overflowing stadium, and be for all the marbles.
And suddenly, that 11-year-old kid is smack-dab in the middle of the big time. Middle school and high school are fond, far-away memories, yet they were the proving grounds for that which is ahead.
This was my reality. At A&M we were ranked in the Top 5 several different years at a school that had seen only one winning season in its previous 16. And when I committed to play college ball, freshman eligibility had just become a thing and black kids were only now being allowed to play major college football across the South.
With them by my side, I quarterbacked the first-ever televised win at Kyle Field, the university’s first nationally-televised win on ABC (a revenge game at Arkansas) as well as the first televised win ever by the Aggies at the University of Texas. That victory over the Longhorns in Austin was just the second A&M win at Memorial Stadium in its 55-year history.
I was under center in 42 of the 46 games I suited up for at A&M and finished my career with the Aggies, like you, Jaxson Dart, the winningest quarterback in program history.
My junior year, we lost our first two conference games but stormed back to secure our second consecutive 10-win season, a bowl win over Florida, and a No. 7 ranking in the polls. Pittsburgh, led by Heisman Trophy winner Tony Dorsett, was voted the national champion that year.
This game this week, where your Rebels have also lost two conference games, is when your training and your discipline come into play like never before. The preparations you’ve made, your keys, your hot routes, protections, they’re all second nature now.
You’ve seen it all and somehow, some way, you’ve beaten it all, at least enough times to give you the unwavering confidence that you’ll man the most important position on the field with a certain level of, dare we say, magnificence. Because, frankly, you are magnificent, no rat poison intended.
The calls and the decisions you make on the fly are completely unknown quantities to the onlookers in the stands. The entire scope of what you’re processing in a split second is lost on most of them. Your fans will cheer for the throws and the big gainers, unaware of the how’s and the why’s or the intricacies of the execution. But you will know, and so will your teammates.
That handoff that led to the big gainer, the touchdown — that was the result of your decision-making on the handoff read. Had you pulled the ball from your running back’s gut, it’s just another dead play and TFL. No one really sees this, or even comments on it. It’s you doing your job.
Indecision is your worst enemy and you will experience none of it. The Zone, the Groove, whatever it is we call it, doesn’t do indecision.
The Zone is this mysterious realm of unconscious reaction that’s fostered and groomed by relentless repetitions. You’ve visualized everything your job requires a million times over, and spontaneous precision is your only possible end result.
Throughout the biggest game in your life, you will decide who carries the ball and who catches the ball, post snap, in barely an instant.
Your expertise and proficiency are the result of so many repetitions against so many different looks and so many disguises, that not even you could guess the number of times you’ve run any given play. Because of your knowledge and years of preparation, you will run and throw and execute your reads with complete authority.
The defensive rush is something you’re not even aware of, nor the hurries or the knockdowns after the throw; they are barely noticeable…because your focus is on the ball that’s now somewhere else, spiraling downfield as you feel yourself rising back to your feet.
Communication is vitally important, as is the positive reinforcement you send to your teammates and your defense. As the leader, your defense needs to see you on that sideline, passionately spurring them on.
Sixty minutes passes quickly. So will life and the memories you make here. There’s no need to look up to check the score. The scoreboard is not where the game will be won or lost. The field is where your attention is focused.
You’re looking for matchups; individual matchups, whether it’s blocker on blocker, back on backer, receiver on defensive back, and even the expressions on the faces of your opponents.
You see a man down, step on him.
Head always up, eyes clear. This is what you were born for, and the game, even the biggest games, are nothing but what you’ve seen every day in practice. Every damn day. Your nerves are only practice nerves, barely reaching the surface, but you do feel the excitement for the prospects that are sure to present themselves. Football is the most vicious form of fun on the planet, particularly for the quarterback.
Has any Rebel quarterback ever come back after losing two conference games to win 10 games in a regular season? It’s a hell of an accomplishment to see it through. It speaks to the heart and determination of you and your team, and specifically to your quality of leadership.
Take it from me, it’s a tremendous sense of accomplishment — proving ‘em all wrong. And now you get to revel in the opportunity to do so against the second-best team in the Southeastern Conference…second to yours, of course. It’s Showtime.
David is the consummate true-freshman quarterback, first pioneering the position only a year after college freshmen were given varsity eligibility by the NCAA in 1972. In 1973, the left-handed all-state gunslinger from Sulphur, Louisiana started for the Texas A&M Aggies and earned the All-Southwest Conference Freshman of the Year award as selected by the league’s coaches. David is the first college quarterback ever awarded Freshman of the Year in the NCAA. He was only 17, and still holds the NCAA record as the youngest starting quarterback in college football history. He wore No. 8 at A&M in honor of one of his football heroes, Archie Manning.
In becoming the winningest quarterback ever at A&M, David was converted from a dual-threat QB to a triple option trailblazer. The two-time team captain led three record-breaking offenses that changed the direction of football at A&M forever, establishing once and for all the winning tradition that the Aggies had so-long desired.
As a high school head coach in Houston in the late ‘80s, David stationed his quarterback in the shotgun formation, having him reading defenses and throwing hot routes at a time when such offensive schemes were frowned upon by traditional fans and coaches. One of his quarterbacks tossed 57 passes in a single game, which stood as the all-time Greater Houston Area record for many years.
As you can tell from his bona fides, David is extremely qualified as our expert on all things Quarterback at Ole Miss. Enjoy his exclusive analysis only here at The Rebel Walk!