E-ticket conversation: Trojan Force
LOS ANGELES -- Football coaches are hard-ass barkers with scowls on their faces and poly-blend shorts pulled up high. Great football coaches run boot camps. They break your will and slowly, if they deem you worthy, piece you back together in their image. They put the fear of God in you, humiliate you, lord over you from a distance, just waiting for you to screw things up so they can bring the hammer down. They're edgy. Paranoid. Surly on principle.
But this isn't that coach.
The season was all laid out before it began. A Heisman-candidate senior quarterback, an embarrassment of riches at running back, and the fastest, hardest-hitting linebacking corps in the country. Wins were there for the taking. Dominance was a given. The season was can't-miss, a mere prelude to a title game.
But this isn't that season.
You think of Pete Carroll as the golden boy, the guy with the surfboard under his arm and the party at Will Ferrell's on his docket. He's laid-back. He's short on discipline and long on confidence. He's the man USC boosters love to love and the man LSU boosters love to hate.
But this isn't that Pete Carroll.
Read "Trojan Force" by Eric Neel.

