A little first-person indulgence here, only because the issue requires it:
The Heisman Trophy ballot comes in a regular, business-sized envelope, with a voting card the size of a big raffle ticket and a bumper sticker attesting to one's status: "Heisman Voter 1997" -- pick your year. Either way, it's not the kind of bumper sticker you put on your car without feeling like a self-serving geek.
|
|
|
Charles Woodson led his Wolverines to an unbeaten regular season. (AP)
|
Having said that, the opportunity to vote for one of these awards is a privilege. Some take it seriously. To my surprise, not everyone does. I've been fascinated to hear from veteran members of the Baseball Writers' Association of America that some of those who can vote on Hall of Fame candidates -- a writer has to be in the BBWAA for 10 consecutive years to achieve the honor -- give it about as much thought as choosing between Scream 2 and Home Alone 3 at the local movie theater.
There was plenty of thought given before sending in my Heisman ballot, with Michigan's Charles Woodson as the Heisman choice, Tennessee quarterback Peyton Manning at No. 2 and Washington State QB Ryan Leaf No. 3.
BUT THOSE ARE JUST the votes. The bigger issue in the process is how one personally defines his vote, what criteria he or she considers integral. There is a lot of latitude. Perhaps too much. All of which can leave lingering doubt any year. I'll never know for sure if Woodson-Manning-Leaf was the best choice. It just seemed so at the time.
Personal criteria, I guess, are rooted in individual backgrounds.
A newspaper colleague in Connecticut who had been in the business for 30 years and served as the state's chairman for Heisman voting saw that I covered Ivy League football -- before the laughter gets too loud, the Heisman has a lot of history rooted in the Ivies -- and, snap, I was among the nameless, faceless many with a vote.
IT'S BEEN A RITUAL of early December, a time to court opinions, do a little research, savor being a little speck in the big process. I used to take the ballot to a favorite greasy spoon with a panoramic view of a typically pretentious small New England town, have about three cups of coffee, fill it out and mail it from the post office next door. What you lacked from not being present at SEC or Pac-10 games, you tried to make up for by a lot of reading and courting of opinion.
Each year it's reported that the Heisman voters lean heavily toward the candidate from their own region. Begrudgingly, I can understand, even if I disagree with the mentality. Having been in Atlanta in October 1989 at a wedding where the bride's side of the family teemed with Alabama fans, one can see the strength of territorial bonds. Although they were gathered in Georgia, the Alabama fans gathered in the kitchen for a prayer meeting moments before the Crimson Tide kicked off against Tennessee.
Personally, I don't give a hoot about regions. I was in Florida last year in time to vote for Danny Wuerffel, but that was coincidence. Geography had nothing to do with inking Northwestern's Darnell Autry for second place last year (about 18 others agreed, hardly a landslide). That was based partly on performance, partly on Northwestern's academic tradition and partly on the desire to exclude Iowa State's Troy Davis altogether after what seemed a self-promoting campaign for a man who racked up huge yardage in games his team routinely trailed by a zillion points.
ANOTHER PERSONAL CRITERION LEANS in the direction of bucking trends. What is so wrong about giving the Heisman to a defensive player? Or a lineman? A linebacker? Quarterbacks ... running backs ... wide receivers ... yawn. It's been well-documented how well a lot of those position players have fared in the NFL. Would it be fair to suggest that should tell us something? Maybe not. There's nothing wrong with change, when well-deserved and constructive.
Enter Woodson, the most dominant player on defense for the nation's No. 1 team. Big game, big moment, and he was there. That wasn't necessarily the case for Manning.
Compared to Manning's impact in his marquee test in September against Florida, Woodson was leaps and bounds ahead in Michigan's moment-of-truth game, the season finale against Ohio State. He had a 78-yard punt return for a touchdown, a crucial interception in the end zone after absorbing unnecessary taunts from Buckeye receivers and his own 37-yard reception on the Wolverine's one offensive touchdown drive.
LEAF HAS A FAR HIGHER efficiency rating (No. 2 in the nation, behind UCLA's Cade McNown) than Manning (No. 14), but consideration has to be given to Manning's presence under considerable pressure -- even if it was induced from Tennessee's publicity machine. He still had his best season, essentially eradicated his teammates' mistakes to lead the Volunteers past Auburn for the SEC championship title and is graduating in three years with a 3.6 grade point average.
Saturday evening, in all likelihood it will be announced the award is Manning's. This is what the experts were saying prior to the announcement: Any concern that Manning wasn't clearly more deserving than Woodson or Leaf or Marshall receiver Randy Moss would be overcome because Manning has the South voters behind him and voters in the West are too free-thinking to go for a Pac-10 guy.
These are tiresome explanations. And if they're accurate, they are tiresome truths.
Mike Lurie is a CBS SportsLine staff writer.
Return to the Wiseguys Corner