Cherry. Brice Cherry. Agent Double-Oh Seven-Point-Three, to be exact.
As a member of the media that covers college football, I am a master of espionage. I have a particular set of skills, skills I’ve acquired over a very long career, skills that make me a nightmare for people like you college football coaches.
Yes, my mission in life is to steal secrets from my sworn enemies — college football programs and coaches — and to expose those secrets to the enemies of my enemies. Namely, other guys in coaching shorts.
So say those coaches themselves, whose rampant paranoia causes them to create the most insane and inane guidelines for the media following their teams.
Exhibit A: Notre Dame’s Brian Kelly. Among the recent stipulations that Kelly handed down for media wanting to report on the Fighting Irish: Reporters could not reveal a specific type of play, alignment or personnel of any packages Notre Dame runs in practice. If I were a Notre Dame beat writer, this would be a crushing blow, because it’s my perpetual desire to bore my readers to tears by breaking down the intricacies of that third-down screen pass.
Human interest? Bah! Who needs it?
At Notre Dame, Texas and, really everywhere in between, college coaches close the gates on their practices to the media’s nosy purview. If you’re able to watch anything at all, it’s generally the first 15 to 20 minutes (when players are performing top-secret, highly-classified acts like bending at the knees and touching their toes) or the last 15 minutes, when guys are sitting on the ground in huddles.
Personally, it rankles me to no end that — as a member of America’s free press (and, as mentioned, double agent for the bad guys) — I’m forbidden from watching football practices. Clearly, there is nothing more riveting than practice. This is drama in its highest…