Four-star LB Roquan Smith might still choose UCLA, but his decision will have to wait. (247Sports)
Four-star LB Roquan Smith says he feels 'misled' by UCLA. (247Sports)

Roquan Smith is the leading edge of a revolution. He just doesn't know it.

When the four-star linebacker from Macon County (Ga.) High held off on signing a letter of intent last week, Big Recruiting had kittens.

Big Recruiting is the machine that controls the hearts, minds and signatures of the nation's best prospects. Big Recruiting is every recruiting service of note, every get-a-life message boarder, every coach over his monthly cell phone limit.

Big Recruiting dictated that Roquan Smith should have signed his National Letter of Intent on National Signing Day just like everyone else.

Except he didn't. After committing to UCLA earlier in the day, Smith held off when he got word of a crucial eventuality. Bruins defensive coordinator Jeff Ulbrich was headed to the Atlanta Falcons. After waiting nine days, Smith posted an Instagram picture Friday of signed scholarship papers  with Georgia.

Even though it was for a short time, Smith controlled a recruiting process stacked against him and his blue-chip peers. A revolution awaits.

"I feel sorry for these kids," said Smith's former high school coach, Larry Harold. "They love football. They're put on a pedestal and they don't ask for it."

The traditional signing period actually ends April 1, almost three months after that celebrated national signing day. (Sorry, but where did those capital letters ever come from?)

Even then, Smith can still wait and sign what is commonly referred to as a "scholarship agreement." Anytime before enrolling he could be a free agent, right up until August. You can see the kind of chaos that would cause if enough prospects acted on that knowledge.

National signing day could be rendered meaningless. Pressure for those precious "commitments" would melt away. Top recruits could band together and extend the recruiting process as long as it suited them.

You bet schools would keep spots open for them. And it would be a revolution.

"I take a commitment very serious," Harold said. "Don't commit unless you're absolutely sure. I explained to Roquan, my wife and I are real close. Up until we get married I'm going to [have the option] date around."

It all points up the silliness of recruiting. We've allowed a new glossary to emerge.

Hard lean? Solid verbal? C'mon.

Being on time for a date is a commitment. Signing for a house loan or enlisting in the military is binding. Coaches -- and their recruiting service minions -- have spent decades contextualizing the word "commit" into the Magna Carta.

Naïve, bright-eyed teenagers bought it because it stroked their egos, gave them a sense of worth and order. Parents bought in too. That's why you see extended families gathered on the sidelines of all-star games to celebrate another clichéd "hat dance."

It's a culture that celebrated Isaiah Crowell pulling out a living, breathing bulldog pup when he committed to Georgia.

It's why no one blinked when Byron Cowart cradled a Chucky doll when he committed to Auburn.

The national letter was instituted decades ago to add some order to the process. A sort of chaos has emerged as an unintended consequence. Signing day has become a de facto national athletic holiday. An overwrought one at that. Recruiters use it as a dartboard to be hit -- a deadline. Miss it and you're screwed. Unless you're as good as Roquan Smith.

"These coaches have been telling recruits, 'I will personally take care of you like my son. I'm going to develop you,'" Harold said.

And then, sometimes, they leave.

A rash of college assistants departed for the NFL right after signing day last week -- with Ohio State running backs coach Stan Drayton, Florida defensive line coach Terrell Williams among them. That "trapped" a number of prospects who had already signed with schools because of those coaches.

There's a clause in the NLI that makes it all legal: "If a coach leaves the institution ... I remain bound by the provisions of the NLI."

That statement is screaming for a challenge by some high-powered lawyer.

Recruitniks everywhere aren't the only ones who will tell you that's exactly why players sign -- the coaches.

"It's about [coaching] relationships," Harold said. "I don't care what anybody says.

"Since his sophomore year, Roquan really looked up to [Ulbrich]. I don't blame any man for taking a better situation. Our only thing is, let the kid know. ... Had Roquan sent his letter in he could have been one of those, 'Oh well,' kids."

It all smacks of a bit of indentured servitude. A coach can improve his professional life without consequence. Signed prospects, emotionally tied to those coaches, are in a box. Barring extraordinary circumstances, any player intending to get out of his NLI must sit out a year, losing a year of eligibility.

Think what additional pressure would be added with an early signing period.

No wonder some coaches want to eliminate a signing day altogether.

Once signed, a guaranteed four-year scholarship is only an option depending on the conference and school. One Texas official, arguing in favor of one-year renewable scholarships, said, "You continue to fail, you get fired."

Who, then, can blame Roquan Smith for waiting? This is one of those decisions of a lifetime.

In 2001, Butch Davis left Miami for the NFL a week before signing day. An entire recruiting class' worth of promises was ripped apart in a heartbeat. Replacement Larry Coker's biggest accomplishment might have been keeping that class together. Eleven months later it was part of a national championship.

Like Smith now, that entire class had options. It stayed together. It won. Nothing wrong with pro-choice.

Smith's current situation is all a bit much. Macon County High is located in rural Montezuma, Ga., a "one-horse" town (Harold's words). They're not used to this sort of attention. According to several accounts, the only reason Smith would appear on television or talk to media was to get recruiting attention for his teammates.

Eventually, it meant nothing when Smith committed to UCLA. And that's OK.

Without really knowing it, the kid controlled the process. That's OK too. He stiff-armed message boarders who pounced on this rip in the recruiting space/time continuum. They'll continue to pounce, especially those from UCLA who lost out on the highest-rated unsigned prospect.

"He's laying low," Harold said earlier this week. "He's just trying to clear his head."

Suck it, Big Recruiting. Let the revolution begin.