A ’CANES HOMECOMING
’Canes haven’t played football in three weeks
Miami approaches home opener with a lot of questions after three-week break.
He watched The Weather Channel. He talked with his wife, Katharyn. He played a card game called “Double-Deck Shot The Moon” — Richts vs. Richts.
“My wife and I stoned [my son] Jon and his wife, Anna, two to nothing,” Mark Richt said. “Normally, they win. Not this time. I guess it’s ‘What have you done for me lately?’ ” Coach, you trash-talker, you. “Anna’s not going to be happy to read this.”
Here’s what the University of Miami football coach didn’t do much of over that long weekend when Hurricane Irma arrived: Football. No play-drawing. No film work. He watched some football games on television, like you or I, because there was a lot of time to kill.
But X’s-and-O’s, break-down-the-film,
don’t-come-up-for-air football preparation?
“Part of the issue was we didn’t know who we were going to play next,” Richt said this week, ahead of Saturday’s return to action against Toledo. “Some people thought we’d get some extra time to prepare for Florida State. But we thought the path of the storm was going to do pretty much what it did, and that meant there was a slim chance of playing in Tallahassee [as scheduled Sept. 16].
“So we couldn’t do much, one, because of the storm’s path. Then, two, if Miami got the damage it did get, we thought it’d be nearly impossible to prepare for a game properly. So would we start looking at Toledo, what, three weeks in advance?”
Some players went home before the storm. Richt evacuated with other players and staff on a 10-hour bus trip to Orlando. And there they waited. And waited. He checked on players and looked at the weather and finally got his team back together again for a workout last Friday in Orlando.
That’s another thing people didn’t get. The plan prepared for life postIrma. It considered a world of no power, which meant no refrigerators, which meant no food for the 100-plus players and staff.
“Any food is perishable,” Richt said. “If you’re going to get to a store or a restaurant to get food, you weren’t going to get it.”
So at a time most teams were making the leaps and bounds of early-season improvement, Miami was having a practice last Friday that consisted of running. Just running. Then they went back to basics Saturday and Sunday.
“Camp,” Richt called it, as in summer camp or training camp.
They bussed back to Coral Gables after Thursday’s practice. They had another hotel night Friday before Saturday’s game. More than any other of our teams, the Hurricanes were uprooted, their lives and regimens changed by Irma.
Richt remembers having a hurricane as a Miami player. Players went home. Coach Howard Schnellenberger called the team back as soon as the weather passed.
“It might’ve still been raining when we went out there,” Richt said. “People were returning, putting on pads, a few at a time. We might’ve had a four-hour practice because of the way people were showing up.”
Times have changed. And yet they haven’t. Richt gathered his players after Thursday’s practice for a word about what awaited them.
“I told them, ‘Men, some of you haven’t been home in a while. Some of you haven’t seen the damage. I can’t imagine that you wouldn’t have certain emotions about returning and about the storm. It’s OK to go through that process. It’s part of getting back . ... But get through that and get ready to play.”
The unknown is any coach’s concern. This is what Richt faces now. Toledo has won three games. Miami won its lone game three weeks ago.
“I truly don’t know what kind of football condition they’re in,” Richt said of his players. “You can’t simulate a game. Part of opening games is there’s a high level of anxiousness. That zaps some energy from players and coaches.
“Well, we’re having two of those kind of games this year. We’re having two first games.”
It’s the hand they’re dealt. And the stakes are higher than Double-Deck Shoot The Moon.