Nothing But Heart

"Five years is something that you have to pay attention to... A five-year contract—that's not something that comes along every day."

2010 was a year that saw some remarkable television shows say goodbye. I've already written about the epic swan song of Lost and the overdue conclusion of 24, but I haven't gotten around to blogging about NBC's beloved high school football drama, Friday Night Lights. Although most fans didn't watch the show's fifth and final season until it aired on NBC in 2011, the series wrapped in 2010, with Season 5 airing exclusively on DirecTV that Fall. So, technically speaking, three of my favorite shows—three that are considered the decade's best—saw themselves to the door in 2010.

I didn't start watching Friday Night Lights until the Spring of 2008 when the show was in its second season. A female co-worker had recommended it and lent me the Season 1 DVDs. I have to admit that I hadn't paid much attention to the series up to that point. Even though I liked the 2004 film (then an adaptation of the 1990 book by H.G. Bissinger), I wondered if a more drawn-out TV adaptation was really necessary, and if it could really be better than the movie.

That doubt of mine was quickly quelled after watching a few episodes on DVD. It didn't take long before I preferred the TV series to its silver-screen counterpart, even though it's never fair to compare apples to oranges. If anything, the difference between the two mediums speaks more about the inherent advantage television shows have in getting far more time to develop stories and characters. As it turns out, this was the primary reason why Peter Berg, who directed the film version of Friday Night Lights, wanted to delve deeper into the world with the TV edition, since he had to leave so much out of the book in making the movie.

Swing Your Sword

During his time at Texas Tech, I really grew to love Mike Leach and his "Air Raid" offense. Having grown accustomed to Ohio State eking out cardiac-arresting wins with its conservative Tresselball offense, Texas Tech's aggressive spread attack was quite the antithesis. And as college football offenses evolved in more creative, wide-open ways in the mid-2000s, I only grew to appreciate it more.

I've always been envious that Ohio State hasn't had an offensively minded coach like Leach who could strategically create mismatches and make teams pay. Too many times throughout Tressel's tenure, OSU either lost close, winnable games, or won games that shouldn't have been so tight by allowing lesser teams to hang around. Either way, the conservative approach has handicapped Ohio State for years, with the players having to rely on their athletic ability to compensate for the poor position the coaches put them in. With an offensive philosophy like Leach's, there would have been higher scores, more wins, and much fewer palpitations.

Leach has had success everywhere he's coached. The before-and-after statistics at Iowa Wesleyan, Valdosta State, Kentucky, Oklahoma, and Texas Tech are dramatic. He's developed ordinary players into stars, whether it's once walk-on Wes Welker or quarterbacks Josh Heupel and Tim Couch, both Heisman Trophy finalists. And even though his oddly named quarterbacks at Texas Tech have earned reputations as system QBs, you can't ignore their success, throwing anywhere from 3,000 to over 6,000 yards a season. If those are system QBs, those are QBs I want in my system.

Leach's recently published biography, Swing Your Sword: Leading the Charge in Football and Life, gives great insight into his coaching philosophies. I've never played organized football, but if I coached it, the armchair quarterback in me would adopt many of them. What follows are the excerpts from Leach's book that I identified with the most.

The Emerald Isle

It's been over four months since I got married, so I figure it's about time I write something about the honeymoon.

We chose Ireland because of our Irish roots, and at least in my mind, because it wasn't where everyone else goes on their honeymoon. On advice from an NYC friend who has Irish citizenship, the plan was to fly in to Dublin and drive a rental car along the west coast, then down south, and eventually back to Dublin.

That was the plan, anyway. Let's just say that our honeymoon didn't get off to the best start. Because our flight from Green Bay to Chicago was delayed, we ended up missing our connecting flights, the last of which was to Dublin. So, option 1 was to rough it overnight in the Toronto airport, take an evening flight to Dublin the next day, and lose a day in Ireland. Option 2 involved taking a red eye into London that night and connecting to Belfast earlier the next day, which would be our new final destination. After being assured that Belfast, being in Northern Ireland, was indeed safe these days, we chose the second option because it would keep us on schedule, even though it meant a longer drive to our first hotel in Galway.

Warm Feet

Photo by Ardent Photography.

I have a confession to make: For most of my life, I was afraid to get married.

Actually, it wasn't really marriage that scared me—it was the wedding itself. For years I'd built up the possibility of my own wedding as the biggest event in my life. There were all kinds of things to worry about—the hundreds of people watching me; pressure to not screw up or say the wrong thing; dancing.

My fear was rooted in being the center of attention, a place I've always shied away from. And if there was ever a time when all eyes would be on me, this was it. But being single for the better part of my life allowed me to put these worries on the back burner. We'd just cross that bridge when we got there.

That's why it's amazing for me to sit here and say that not only have I crossed that bridge, but I had a great time doing it. My wedding was a blast, and in the months leading up to it, I expected it to be.

So what changed?

The One

Well, somehow I got married last month.

I say that not because I didn't know it was coming for a year prior—indeed, it was hardly a shotgun wedding or an elopement in Vegas. I say it simply because after 31½ years of being single, it's strange to think that it actually happened.

During my college days in Oxford, Ohio, I spent more Saturday nights in my dorm room than I care to recall. I remember being confused as I walked around campus seeing how many guys had girlfriends. It seemed so easy for them, but impossible for me. It was harder because I wasn't as social back then, but it was still frustrating because I knew I had a lot to offer a girl. It was sort of like a job search that wasn't going well—I was more than qualified, but no woman was hiring.

Fast-forward a few years later to my post-college life in Nashville. I was still girlfriend-less in life, and at this point it was starting to feel like a curse. I often wondered if something was wrong with me. Suffice it to say that I had a girlfriend complex. But then I finally learned why it was so hard for someone like me: my personality type.

According to the Myers-Briggs personality test, most INFPs (Introverted-Intuitive-Feeling-Perceiving) are very selective when it comes to choosing their partners, and tend to only pursue long-lasting relationships. The test revealed many more truths about all facets of my life that were eerily right on the money, but that was the gist of it as far as relationships go. For anyone who's never taken the assessment, it honestly feels like someone's been spying on you as you read about your type because the test seems to know everything about what makes you tick. For anyone looking to gain knowledge and self-awareness far beyond relationships, this test is essential because it can be life-changing. It was for me.