Self-Righteousness Surrounding Al Golden at Temple

Why were so many Temple fans upset when UCLA was talking to Owls' head football coach Al Golden about the possibility of replacing Karl Dorrell as the head coach at UCLA?

Coaches move all the time, and Temple hadn't found a successor to Wayne Hardin until, well, Al Golden. Bruce Arians, Jerry Berndt, Ron Dickerson and Bobby Wallace all failed, most miserably. Hardin, a clever game coach who coached Heisman winners Roger Staubach and Joe Bellino at Navy, also was good at recruiting the Philadelphia Public and Parochial Leagues, the coal country of Pennsylvania and South Jersey. He gave Penn State fits a few times in the 1970's and did an excellent job on North Broad Street.

After Hardin, the program sank, almost into oblivion. They became a perennial DI doormat until a) the Owl left the Big East (okay, they really were ejected), b) they joined the Mid-American Conference and c) they hired Golden, a Penn State alum from Central Jersey who was the defensive coordinator at UVA. What a pedigree! What energy! And, seemingly, the Owls are on their way back, having put together two good recruiting years (and they're en route to a third).

Now, Temple isn't, say, Rutgers (at least not yet), and if you were a Rutgers' fan you would get upset with the prospect of a Greg Schiano talking with UCLA. Why? Because, believe it or not, the Bruins' job might not be a step up, especially when you're more known as a hoops school and you have USC in your backyard. But if you're a Temple fan, you have to understand why an Al Golden would talk to UCLA. It is a step up, has a better tradition, and is a pretty good job (and, yes, a much better job than the Temple one currently is).

Still, some Temple fans expressed their disappointment in the Philadelphia papers that Golden would look for another job. I was surprised to read of some of the rancor. Sure, Temple fans would be disappointed, because Golden has done a great job. But angry, expressing feelings of betrayal? Get over yourselves, and, at the same time, feel flattered that your once-dying program has quickly earned enough national respect for its head coach to get considered for a very good job. That says something about Al Golden and the job he's done for Temple.

Temple fans also had better get used to this type of attention. Golden isn't 40 yet, and if Temple has a .500 year or better next year, Golden will have done an (even more) amazing job in a very short time on North Broad Street. So much so that he could be a contender for a bigger job, much bigger. He's a Penn State alum, and Joe Paterno is 81, and there isn't a logical successor for JoePa (not Tom Bradley in State College, not Schiano, not Cal's Jeff Tedford). If Golden has a few more good years, who knows? Ditto UVA, where he coached the defense so ably. Head coach Al Groh isn't so young, either.

But this is a good thing for Temple fans. The attention Al Golden is getting means the program is in better shape, that the head coaching job is no longer the Last Chance Hotel of DI football and is much more attractive a position, and that the college football world thinks Temple can ably compete in the MAC. All very, very good.

I have been a Temple football fan since I can remember. My father played football for the Owls for a few years, and I recall going to many a game, first at Temple Stadium off Cheltenham Avenue in the West Oak Lane section of Philadelphia, and then at Vet Stadium. I recall them playing before sellout crowds against Penn State, once at Penn's Franklin Field and the other at Veterans Stadium and a night game against West Virginia at Temple Stadium where they upset the Mountaineers and the players carried Coach Hardin off the field (this was pre-Gatorade shower time), and I recall seeing a cornucopia of good football players -- quarterbacks John Waller, Tommy De Felice, Steve Joachim and Marty Ginestra (an Earl Morrall-like relief QB if there ever was one), running backs like Henry Hynoski and Anthony Anderson, wide receivers like Jim Callahan and Steve Watson, offensive linemen like Skip Singletary, Jim Cooper and Joe Nedney, kicker Nick Mike-Mayer and punter Casey Murphy, defensive linemen like Joe Klecko, linebackers like Wayne Coleman and defensive backs like Chris Fletcher and Todd Bowles. Most of those guys played in the NFL, and under Hardin they thought they could beat everyone.

My father's been dead for a while and I live far enough away that I don't get to games, but I always find myself checking the scores on ESPN and in the papers, hoping that the Owls won. They remain an important connection for me to my father's memory, and I'm sure that he'd be flattered that a school like UCLA was interested in his team's coach.

It's about time.