No fate but what we make

I remember.

I remember thinking about how it was going to be the best weekend I'd had in a long time. I remember taking advantage of a day off to be in Knoxville with old friends. I remember that first hint of Autumn.

I remember how much I enjoyed that first Saturday, with no Tennessee on the schedule to overly influence me. I remember trying not to enjoy it when Virginia Tech lost. I remember being pissed that Mississippi State lost to Louisiana Tech, because how dare they taint the name of the SEC.

I remember watching the Tide roll over Clemson, with that faint internal smile that said maybe, just maybe, this would be the year that Alabama would hold up their end of the bargain and bring the Third Saturday back to national prominence.

I remember gameday. I remember that Chick-Fil-A was giving away free strips, and how nice it was to be five minutes from one instead of an hour and a state away like I am now in Virginia. I remember my friend there at lunch asking me what we'd do if Jonathan Crompton got hurt, and me saying something about how that would be the worst possible thing that could happen, and if that if he did we'd probably go exclusively to the G-Gun because Nick Stephens wasn't ready.

I remember hearing Arian Foster interviewed on the radio - in English, not pterodactyl - and how he playfully ducked a question about how this year, this team, might be special.

I remember thinking that it should be special, because it's the 10th Anniversary of that which was most special. I remember how great it felt after those long summer months and all those words I'd typed - words that described the Vols with promised accuracy, like "underrated" and "dangerous" and "capable" - that finally, finally, my favorite three months of the year were here.

I remember saying "football season will make anything better".

I remember my friend's new apartment, pizza and Mountain Dew. I remember his gigantic television and crystal clear HD. I remember those familiar strains of ESPN's college football telecast, and that inward thankfulness that it was finally here.

I remember being excited about seeing the Clawfense.

And I remember seeing those orange pants.

And we should've known.

I remember feeling genuinely sorry for Kevin Craft. I remember thinking at halftime that we'd just put them away. I remember having a quiet admiration for Craft for pulling it together in the second half.

I remember trying to remember the last time we ran the football.

Then I remember saying "why don't we run?"

Then I remember shouting it.

I remember using the phrase "They're hanging around..." at least a dozen times.

Then I remember the assumption that our defense would stop them, and the cold reality when they didn't. I remember the moment I first thought we would lose.

Then I remember how swiftly that was taken away with a couple completions and a trip to overtime. I distinctly remember saying "If there's one thing we do well at Tennessee, it's win in overtime."

Then I remember saying "Alright, let's just score a touchdown so we can all go home" after UCLA's possession.

Then I remember making an assumption about Daniel Lincoln.

And I remember the moment that kick sailed wide, and everything came unraveled.

It's still unraveling.

How do I remember it all so distinctly?

Because it was only seven weeks ago.

Seven weeks - less than fifty days - a number that, on the other end of the calendar when we say "there's 49 days 'til it's FOOTBALL TIME in TENNESSEE!", we know it's getting close.

And now we know it's gone.

I so look forward to college football season, like many of you who're reading this. Just the promise of it gets us through the summer. I even missed missing it this year while I was preoccupied with the Celtics.

And the reality for Vol fans now is, we probably spent more time breaking down and looking forward to the season than the Vols did being relevant in it.

The season's not over, because there are six games left to be played. Which means it's only halfway done, less than if you assume a bowl game.

But as for the existence we've known as Vol fans for the last two decades...2008 is over.

And that entire existence might be too.

Think, for a moment, about what we take for granted.

Like starting the year in the preseason AP Top 25. The Vols have done that for twenty consecutive seasons.

Or sooner than that, playing in January. We've been disappointed to go to the Outback Bowl in each of the last two years. Now we'll probably be starting our new year watching somebody else's team.

Are you depressed yet?

I love playing EA Sports' NCAA Football video game series, where the Vols have been on the short list of "six star programs" in their dynasty mode - a list that included only eight other teams in this year's game. Right now, I think you'd be hard pressed to find anyone who agrees with that ranking.

See, here's the thing: we can all admit now that things have changed.

The Vols were playing at one level from 1989-2001. They were dominant. We were proud. We were the team you tore your goalposts down for when you beat us...except you probably didn't beat us. The Vols won four SEC Championships in that span, won the division again in 2001 and were a heartbeat away from the big prize, and of course, captured the 1998 National Championship.

Since 2001 - and this is an argument someone else can make somewhere else - either the Vols have regressed, or the talent around them got better, or (most probably) both.

From 2002-2007, the Vols weren't dominant. Some goalposts did get torn down against us. But they were still very good. Two division titles, plenty of big wins.

And each of the three times in the last six years that the ship looked lost, Fulmer saved her.

After the injury-filled debacle of 2002, Fulmer went to Gainesville and made us believe again the following September.

After the tragedy of "We're the best 5-6 team in the country!" in 2005, Randy Sanders was no more and Fulmer and the Vols obliterated Cal, and instantly, all was forgiven and we were in attack mode again.

And when last year looked dead, the Vols responded by winning every game they had to have down the stretch to become an unlikely SEC East Champion.

But this time, there's nothing left to save us.

And what's worse - what's left to believe that it will be saved?

Things are bad right now. What makes us believe that next year will automatically be better?

Because I also remember, more than anything, that every-offeseason belief that the Vols would be among the best teams in the country/conference when the year started. Because with greater consistency than just about any other college football program in the last twenty years, we have been.

Everyone under 30 doesn't know how to deal with this, and that includes me. Because Tennessee is an elite football program that wins. And what we've seen on the field this year...that's not Tennessee Football.

But it is.

The last two years have already killed that thing in me that says "We'll beat everybody but Florida", because that's how I was trained and that's what I lived and enjoyed, for the most part, for the last 20 years. Before it's out, this year might kill the assumption that the Vols will beat South Carolina, Vanderbilt and Kentucky.

Whether Fulmer is the head coach here or not in 2009...what do we have to stand on that says it's all going to be okay?

There was this brief moment of doubt a few years earlier, in the aforementioned Cal game. I remember how strange it felt that day, because you just didn't know. And the Vols did everything right away to ease your pain, and in 2.5 quarters we went from not knowing to "Screw Florida, we're going all the way!"

Then there was David Cutcliffe to ease the distance between the two, that long lost season and the fragile promise of the next one. This year there won't be.

And what if Fulmer does go, on his terms or otherwise? If a new coach comes in here, do we just accept a rough start (like Saban last year) because that's what new coaches deserve? And if so, isn't it tragic that 8-4 will become okay?

The mantra of this blog since its beginning has been "The SEC is good enough to beat everybody any week, and Tennessee is good enough to beat anybody every week."

Is that true anymore?

If the Vols were in a class by themselves from 1989-2001, and four or five SEC teams were all bunched in there together from 2002-2007, are the Vols even in that grouping anymore? I like to make the joke about Georgia not belonging at the adult table...but have the Vols worn out their welcome?

We're spoiled in Knoxville and we take everything for granted.

But now everything we take for granted could be getting ready to change.

It starts now, with this team. Is this a 3-9 team? Because the relevant bowl question is no longer "where?", but "if". With the dream of a championship lost in just seven weeks and more external pressure on the program than ever before, does this team have the desire and the will to keep playing?

And even if they do, are they actually good enough to beat anybody that's left?

Because he's the most stinging comparison: say what you want, but the 2005 Vol team still had some talent.

They were better at shooting themselves in the foot than any UT team I know of. And they too struggled on offense. But they had some talent.

The 2008 Vol offense is much worse than the '05 group, with the only potential future bright spot in Nick Stephens' right arm. We keep hearing about talent that's still here...but is it?

And talented or no...does this team have what it takes to finish the season?

And if they don't...what happens next year? Because there's no guarantee that the Vols will bounce back with a 10-2 season that we'd all probably take at this point.

2005 made me angry. 2008 makes me worried. Really, genuinely, watershed worried.

When does Tennessee stop being Tennessee?

The identity of the program hangs precariously in the balance. This season is lost. As for the future of the program...while some of that will lay in the hands of the head coach, present or future, it ultimately falls to all of them - players, coaches, administration. And fans, for what they can do - staying loyal and faithful to the program, for better or for worse. Because the "for worse" part might become a more present reality. Anyone who says they're cheering for us to lose is a waste of orange. And anyone who openly does so when we play Alabama should be shot on sight.

Tennessee can still lay an important foundation right now, while everything seems lost in the moment and potentially for the future. Don't quit. Get better. Give yourself a chance next season to be Tennessee, no matter who the coach is. Keep hope alive.

We've lived a charmed life for 20 years. If it's over...God, we'll miss it. And maybe one day it'll come back.

But Tennessee people need to understand that nothing is guaranteed. Much of what we take for granted has been earned on the football field for the last two decades.

Remember the Syracuse program that's sent Donovan McNabb, Marvin Harrison and Dwight Freeney to the Pro Bowl and played in early BCS bowls?

Today they're the worst program among BCS conferences in my opinion, and it took less than a decade to get there. Nothing is guaranteed, it's earned.

I don't know where Tennessee Football is going from here. If there is still enough talent in Knoxville to compete with the Florida, Georgia, LSU, Auburn, and yes, Alabamas of the SEC, the Vols need to lay the foundation for that talent to compete again next year. Fulmer needs to do what's best for his team while it's still his team, whatever he believes that to be. And the administration needs to do likewise.

And again, we as fans need to stay true to the orange.

We might disagree about Fulmer. We might not all spend our hard earned dollars on Tennessee vs. Mississippi State on pay per view. And we'll all question that which needs to be questioned.

But the Vols have been very good to us. Now's the time to return the favor.

The future is not set; there is no fate but what we make. The Vols will either go further in the hole or keep playing and lay a solid foundation for what's to come, whatever that will be. And it's the responsibility of everyone involved with the program to do what they can to make it something good.

Because no matter what...it's always great to be a Tennessee Vol.