This is an opinion column.
The modern age of the SEC is here, Nick Saban is gone and Texas just declared war on Alabama.
It’s a lot for me to process in these vulnerable hours after Alabama said so long to the architect of “the process.”
The Longhorns might not officially be in the league just yet — that happens in July — but Texas let everyone know on Sunday that it’s ready to carve out its own sadistic reputation in the most cutthroat conference of them all. Texas coach Steve Sarkisian was once beloved in Alabama, but now he is a Marvel supervillain after lighting Alabama’s soul on fire.
Call him Sark The Shark. Call him Sark The Savage. Sark, the rogue. Sark, the vengeful, insatiable genius.
With the carrot cake commemorating Saban’s retirement still fresh, Texas robbed Alabama of its reputation, its cherished memories and arguably its best player all in the same chess move. In the wake of Saban’s retirement, Iron Bowl hero Isaiah Bond left Alabama for Texas and I still can’t believe it.
Saban retired on a Wednesday and Bond was gone before new Alabama coach Kalen DeBoer could even unpack his travel bag.
DeBoer asked players to give him a chance. Bond said give me some cowboy boots and a black hat.
Bond is the receiver who made the famous touchdown catch in the most recent Iron Bowl. It made him an instant celebrity in the state of Alabama. Fourth and 31 will go down as one of the greatest plays in Alabama football history, but we’re less than two months removed from that magical moment and it all suddenly feels like the charred ruins of a smoldering empire.
There was once a time when being an Iron Bowl hero meant legendary status for life. That era of college football is officially gone.
It was Auburn that was supposed to feel eternal pain after Alabama’s miraculous throw from Jalen Milroe to Bond, but now Alabama will be watching an Iron Bowl legend suit up for Texas next season. Is nothing sacred anymore? Is Bevo the new king of the SEC? How is this even real life?
Being an Iron Bowl legend was once an access card to a different world. In that sense, things haven’t changed. Now it’s a ticket out of town.
I suddenly feel like writing breakup poetry.
Is it too late for Saban to un-retire?
Can His GOAT-ness pull an Urban Meyer?
Hold my beer while I stick my head in the oven.
Take away this pain with a blindside concussion.
Let’s be clear. There should be no hard feelings for Bond. He did nothing wrong in transferring from Alabama to Texas. No one can fault a player for cashing in when they can. The money is out there, so go get it. That’s the game. That’s the American Dream.
College football in 2024 is pure, uncut capitalism. No rules. No regulations. All business.
But it hurts, man. I can’t lie. Even for a grizzled, time-hardened press-box pilcrow like me, this one cuts deep. Players come and they go these days, but that doesn’t mean fans and observers of the game have to enjoy it.
Bond entered the transfer portal shortly after Saban announced he was walking away. Bond later said that Saban’s retirement “100 percent” informed his decision to walk, too. Saban saw all of this coming, of course. When asked about the NIL transfer era, Saban once famously snapped back, “Is this what we want college football to become?”
Answer: Heck no.
Saban didn’t retire because of the changes to roster management in college football, but losing players to the portal certainly made the job less enjoyable. Coaches dedicate large portions of their lives to recruiting players, and schools spend millions of dollars to fund the chase, and then, after all that, Iron Bowl heroes leave for another school.
Saban was the greatest recruiter the game ever saw. Raising money to pay players is the key to winning for Alabama’s new coach, and there are deeper pockets in the new SEC. What’s an Iron Bowl compared to a Texas war chest filled with gold?
