Any conference media day is designed to announce the upcoming football season with optimism and excitement. New coaches are introduced, narratives are imagined, and aspiring young stars meet the media a month before fans will see them on the field. Reporters fill notebooks with quotes about quarterback battles, jaded coaches look into cameras and explain why last season's shortcomings will be this season's strengths, and everyone in the room celebrates the return of college football.
I'd imagine that Pac-12 Media Day isn't the same as what happens in the SEC, not even several years ago when the conference was regularly producing Heisman Trophy candidates and national championship contenders, but this year's edition certainly reflected the changing landscape of college football.
This is a conference that has never quite figured out how to promote itself. We see that in the disconnect between the league's slogan, "Conference of Champions," and the sad reality of staging its marquee event, the conference championship game, on a Friday night in a half-filled stadium as if it were a high school football game.
You can also see evidence of this on media day. The SEC and Big Ten typically announce the dates and locations of their events just weeks after the previous season ends, but the Pac-12 keeps this day secret until deep into the summer, perhaps building buzz like a pop-up fashion boutique taking over a downtown warehouse, password required, only influencers allowed.
But don't get me wrong. I absolutely love media day; it is far and away my favorite day of the summer. In a sense it feels like an enormous family reunion, and as you walk the periphery of the press room, you see groups of writers catching up with each other, comparing notes not only on the teams they follow but also on family and friends.
But there are lots of famous folks sprinkled throughout this reunion. Chip Kelly is smaller and older than you might think, Herm Edwards is exactly who you think he is, and the ex-quarterbacks walking around (Ryan Leaf, Brock Huard) look like they could step behind center tomorrow. I had a short elevator conversation with Utah's Kyle Whittingham, and when I told him how much I respect what he and his program bring to the conference, he thanked me and shook my hand.
This isn't my world, but even a pretend-journalist like me has made a few connections over the years. On Friday I caught up with a UCLA reporter, had lunch with a Stanford podcaster, and chatted with a writer who traded his Stanford beat for USC. They're friends I see once a year, and it's nice.
Even though media day is supposed to be about the players and coaches and the games that await them all, it seems like every year there's an off-field issue that hovers above the room and permeates every question and answer. Last year it was the sudden proliferation of NIL money into the sport (if only we knew then what we know now) -- can you guess what it was this year?
Pac-12 commissioner George Kliavkoff had the impossible task of facing the media only weeks after he learned along with the rest of us that UCLA and USC were leaving for, if not greener pastures, then greener cash flow. Probably some in the assembled media hoped he might step to the mic and tell us about a brokered deal with a couple mystery schools that would save the conference, or maybe produce a bag of cash just delivered from Fox or ESPN for a television deal that made sense, but that was never going to happen.
Instead Kliavkoff started by laying out the virtues of the conference and the accomplishments of its member schools. He acknowledged the disappointment of the departures, but he was nothing but positive, stopping just short of spitting some bars from Kendrick Lamar. (We gon' be alright, indeed.) He even shared that he had sent a clear message to the remaining ten schools: Be nice to the USC and UCLA athletes. He wasn't just optimistic, he was open and honest. Something that could never have been said about his predecessor's appearances at these events. I was left with one clear thought -- if Kliavkoff had been hired in 2009 instead of Larry Scott, the conference would likely be in a very different place.
There are two types of journalists at media day. There are those who cover the conference or the sport in general, and those who cover individual teams. The former bounce from coach to coach for a question or two as they build a narrative about the upcoming season, while the latter look for longer sit downs with their specific schools. Due to the recent trajectory of the Stanford program, I didn't face much competition; there was only one other person there specifically to learn about the Cardinal.
Along with David Shaw, quarterback Tanner McKee and defensive back Kyu Blu Kelly were there representing Stanford, and I was able to spend plenty of time with all three. The first thing that jumped out -- the first thing that always jumps out -- is that these Stanford players are different. As we sat at lunch, Tanner and Kyu were deep into a conversation about a McDonald's documentary Tanner had just watched on Netflix, and I leaned over to Coach Shaw. "You know, the other players here aren't talking about business documentaries." He agreed and chuckled, "I know it."
But there were also lots of conversations about football. Kyu talked to me about the influence of past players on the current defensive backs, and took me through the anatomy of a defensive breakdown, an explanation that was truly fascinating. (Much more on that later this week.) Tanner gushed about the weapons he'll have at his disposal on offense this year, and we spent some time talking about his high school days at a Southern California football powerhouse, Corona Centennial. I could have spoken to both of them for hours.
And then there was Coach Shaw. If you've been reading this site over the past decade or following along on Twitter, you know that I'm one of the few Stanford fans who stands by Coach Shaw, and that's at least partially because of the conversations I have with him at this event every summer. Quite simply, I like him. My first media day was Shaw's first event also, and he hasn't changed much since then. He and I are relatively close in age, and as I sat next to him at lunch on Friday I noticed in him some of the same things he likely noticed in me. There are a few wrinkles that weren't there when he took the head coaching job back in 2011, and you can hear the wisdom gained from his eleven-year career in the measured pauses before he answers a question.
In many ways he's the most important person in the league. None of the other eleven coaches has won as many conference games, as many conference championships, as many Rose Bowls, or as many conference Coach of the Year awards. He doesn't have the glitz of Lincoln Riley, the craziness of Herm Edwards, or the Wile E. Coyote-ness of Chip Kelly, and the NFL rumors may have dissipated, but his stature in the conference is secure. He is that rare head coach who is focused on his own program but still sees the big picture of the game around him.
I mentioned his résumé and experience and suggested that it probably allowed him to stay calm as things were falling apart during last season's seven-game losing streak, but how, I wondered, were his players able to endure it? He responded with a version of what we've heard before. They knew what was happening. They knew that they were still having great practices, and that they were still showing signs of who they could be. (In separate conversations, Tanner would talk about those glimmers of greatness, and Kyu would mention the need for more consistency this season.)
Shaw also reminded me that they had just completed their first "normal" off-season in two years. Aside from our neighbors on the other side of the Bay, no football program in America was as impacted by Covid protocols as Stanford. In an earlier conversation with some of the Stanford communications staff on hand, we remembered the workout plans sent home to athletes during the height of the pandemic that weren't the usual lists of weights and reps. Instead they included Home Depot shopping lists for PVC piping and sandbags for players without gym access to create their own equipment.
Part of what we saw last fall, Shaw explained, was the result of those two lost years. Lost time in the weight room under the watchful eye of a strength and conditioning coach, lost time in meeting rooms with position coaches, lost time on the practice field. He expects that this year will be different. He specifically mentioned the offensive line, which he described as bigger and stronger, and said that in general this is the healthiest Stanford team in years.
Finally, we spoke for a little about Andrew Luck. Shaw was heavily involved in the recent podcast exploring Luck's early retirement (a must listen if you haven't already), and he's had a consistent relationship with his former quarterback over the past decade. He happily retold the story he shared in the podcast about the moment on the practice field when he and Jim Harbaugh realized what had fallen into their laps. He stood up from the table and took an imaginary football into his right hand, turned his body to the left, then looked opposite and pantomimed a pass to his right. "Andrew just flicked it. No legs, just his arm, and it was a perfect pass, thirty yards on a line."
I told him that I agreed that it would've been nice to see Andrew win a few Super Bowls and eventually pull on a gold blazer at his Hall of Fame induction, but that I was still proud of him. In fact, I'm even more proud that he had chosen himself and chosen his health. "I don't expect you to pass this on to him," I said, "but I just hope he's happy. If he's happy, I'm happy for him."
"He's happy."
We shook hands, and I wished him luck.
