What a Long, Strange Trip It's Been to the National Championship Game For All of Us
MIAMI — I got into trouble for trying to pour my own coffee.
That was my introduction to the 2021 National Championship Game, one that will be unlike any we’ve ever seen.
This was on Sunday, National Championship Eve for Alabama vs. Ohio State, but I’m getting ahead of myself.
That we’re even here is pretty remarkable.
Even last summer, the odds of college football successfully completing a season — any kind of season, never mind the Southeastern Conference playing nearly every game of a revamped schedule — were completely unknown.
There simply wasn’t enough for anyone to make an informed decision. At the time, no one even knew for sure if the coronavirus could be spread through playing a contact sport, never mind all of the other things that go with participating in collegiate athletics.
A new calendar year later we still have social distancing. Masks. Limited attendance (or none) due to the coronavirus.
It’s been nothing short of a mind-numbing 10-plus months, never mind the big picture that includes 90 million cases worldwide, and 2 million deaths, numbers that experts say are understated. The United States has had 22 million infected and 373,000 deaths.
Surreal doesn’t begin to describe our overall reality, to which many of us have become numb.
Similarly, to be here, in the same location where Alabama won the 2012 national title, one would think Miami would offer some level of familiarity this week.
It doesn’t. Not even close.
On Saturday, the BamaCentral crew drove down Alabama and we didn’t reach South Florida until late. That was followed by some getting settled in, familiarizing ourselves with our surroundings, and celebrating that the 12-hour drive was behind us.
Normally, we would have made the trip days earlier in the week as there are usually numerous events in conjunction with the title game. They range from interview sessions, a grandiose media day in which every player and coach is made available to reporters, and then of course the media party.
For those of you who scoff at that, let me explain. For journalists the National Championship Game isn’t just about what happens on the field, it’s also like a sports journalism convention. We get to see old acquaintances, meet and work alongside some of the legends in our profession, and be around peers.
Two years ago, when Alabama last played for the title, I spent most of the media party in San Jose, Calif., hanging out with many of the key contributors to the Sports Illustrated TMG site, including Tony Barnhart, Chris Dufresne and Mark Blaudschun. Quite frankly, I was like a kid in a candy store while listening to their tales and talking shop. Even better was that other prominent writers, like Ivan Maisel, would stop by and join in.
None of them are here this year. Sadly, Dufrense, the former award-winning writer from the Los Angeles Times, died last May.
We should have been toasting him last night, and telling his wife Sheila, how much we miss him.
Instead, the media hospitality room, which is normally packed the night before and during the hours after the title game, had maybe 35 people in it for dinner, and fewer as the night progressed. All of the events like the Football Writers Association Presidents Dinner, and the corresponding annual awards breakfast the morning of the game, were canceled.
Most national writers understandingly stayed home this year, but so did a lot of local journalists. For example, among the TV stations based in Birmingham it appears that only one sent a reporter.
As such, the media hospitality room, where people normally go to meet and get together, was filled with dividers, chairs spaced apart, and a lot of empty space.
It’s where I got in trouble trying to pour my own coffee. The counter was marked as having been sanitized, and someone had to put on gloves just to provide a dabble of cream.
The reason why this was so striking to me is because this is my first real game of the 2020 season — my opener if you will. The last one I covered in person, and not virtually, was the Citrus Bowl against Michigan last January.
Here’s why: In February, my wife and I found out that we were expecting our second child. We made the decision even before sports completely shut down to isolate as much as possible.
It worked. Our son was born in October. We’ve had numerous scares, but no positive tests, and are extremely thankful to be in this position.
So here I am, back in Miami where it's still the Crimson Tide (facing the Buckeyes), yet the only things similar to the 2019 Orange Bowl, or the 2012 national title game here, have been the morons trying to run us off the road, and the team still wearing Crimson and White.
The precautions of the 2020-21 season will still be in place. Hard Rock Stadium will still be mostly empty, and there will be no first-person interviews, so no one will be able to look any of the players or coaches in the eye as they talk about the game or experience.
I’m even struggling with how to say hello to colleagues and long-unseen friends.
Is a fist-bump expected, elbow tap, or what?
The part that I’ve decided to focus upon is that I’m simply here. It’s surreal, a little scary and about as weird as anything I’ve ever experienced during my career.
It's also Alabama vs. Ohio State.
There’s also hope that the National Championship Game will never be this way ever again.
Christopher Walsh's column regularly appears on BamaCentral
