Bring Back The Heisman Curse

We need it.

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You're all doomed. Or are you?

It used to be an annual event. Every year, a few weeks before the Winter Solstice, a secret collective of people in robes would get together, hold an Illuminati-like conference/goat sacrifice, peruse over videotape, and decide which college football superstar would get his name placed on the same 25-pound bronze statue as past recipients Ty Detmer, Andre Ware, Rashaan Salaam, and the Godfather of the event, Gino Torretta. Right, so…which college football player was going to be a huge NFL bust?

The Heisman Trophy Curse. We need it back.

Not once during the run-up to this year's award did I hear the word "curse" uttered. After Oklahoma's Sam Bradford won it last week, I didn't hear any tongue-in-cheek remarks on radio about him "being cursed" or any stodgy old analysts knocking down the idea of the Curse because it has "no merit". It had somehow completely disappeared from our collective consciousness. In fact, a quick Google search for the term "Heisman Curse" brings up a mere 1,590 entries on the entire World Wide Web. (To give you an example for how small a number that is, my own name brings up 15 times more hits, and my fan base consists of my mom.) Like Bonk's Adventure or California Dreams, the whole concept of the Curse has just vanished into the ether of pop culture. And that's simply not acceptable.

The Heisman Curse brings together the best two parts of sports, real statistical analysis and old fashioned superstition, in one brilliant mix of faux witchcraft.

For starters, there's no doubt that there's something to the Heisman Curse. It's not obviously nonsense like the famous baseball curses—the Curse of the Bambino and the Curse of the Billy Goat—which can be explained by a combination of poor teams, the low percentage of teams that get into the MLB playoffs, and just the way hindsight works in general. ("Hey look, we haven't won a championship in 40 years. We must be cursed!") The other pop culture curses—the Madden Curse and the Sports Illustrated Cover Jinx—can both be explained by the statistical theory of "regression toward to the mean:" a player who has a great enough performance to justify landing on either cover will most likely return to earth soon. But the Heisman Curse demands a much deeper explanation.

Here now, it's time to turn to Mr. Gino Torreta.

When Torretta took home the award in 1992, no one thought he was the best college player (that was runner-up Marshall Faulk) or that he'd be a great NFL player (as evidenced by ultimately being drafted in the 7th round), just that he was the leader of the best team in football. So when he flamed out at the next level, no one was shocked. The same went for the 2001 winner Eric Crouch, a rushing quarterback from Nebraska who had to try to get his NFL career kick-started by morphing into a wide receiver. Or 2000 winner Chris Weinke, who was already 28 years old when he won the trophy.

(If ya like talking about bad Heisman choices, read this too!)

But how do you explain the players who should have had success in the NFL?

Players like:

1994 winner Rashaan Salaam, who rushed for over 2,000 yards and was chosen in the first round by the Chicago Bears, before quickly contracting a bad case of fumble-it is and eventually winding down his career in the XFL.

2003 winner, and 2004 finalist Jason White, who was the all-time leading passer at Oklahoma, before being completely passed up in the NFL draft, signed with the Titans for a brief period, before opting to retire citing weak knees.

1996 winner Danny Wuerffel, who threw for over 10,000 yards while at Florida, but only attempted 350 passes in his 6-year NFL career. To be fair, he did win a World Bowl MVP award while playing in NFL Europe.

1999 winner Ron Dayne, who still holds the record for rushing yards in an NCAA career, but never once surpassed 800 yards in a season during his seven years in the NFL. He was an effective goal line back—28 TDs is nothing to sneeze at—but you kind of expect more from all-time leading rushers.

There's not enough space here to get into the insane career of 1998 winner Ricky Williams, arguably the most gifted Heisman winner since Barry Sanders. Since he's had some success in the league, he gets the last spot on the list.

Even Matt Leinart (2004) was looking like a future star before suffering a broken collarbone and giving Kurt Warner a chance to take hold of the QB spot for the foreseeable future. And Carson Palmer (2002) and Reggie Bush (2005), who both started off their careers looking like All-Pros, have fell from grace hard. How can you possibly justify all of this mayhem with "science" or "explanations"?

Magnolia put it best: "This is not just 'Something That Happened.' This cannot be 'One of Those Things…' This, please, cannot be that." No sirs, this is some bad voodoo we're working with here. Which is exactly why we have to bring it back.

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