Anytime someone referenced Urban Meyer, I was quick to correct them.
“Urban Meyer... You mean Urban LIAR?” my snarky, tween self would say.
I was 11 years old when Urban Meyer stepped away from the University of Florida. And though I was young, I understood completely what his departure meant for Florida football. It meant the Gators would go back to stinking on special teams, that much I knew.
Eleven-year-old me was devastated. I spent every Saturday watching Gators football and I was enamored by Florida’s success. (This was a very misleading time for first impressions to be made, I’ve since learned.)
And through all of the success, Meyer was the common denominator.
He was Florida’s coach. And back then, that meant he was my coach, too.
I can remember standing in line, outside the Heavener Football Complex near Gate 18, waiting for coach Meyer to sign my copy of Buddy Martin’s “Urban’s Way” and my little brother’s football. Footballs weren’t allowed at the signing, but Meyer smirked at my brother and signed it anyways.
But shortly after, he was gone.
How could Florida’s coach… how could my coach just up and leave?
It took me a long time to learn this, but when the Gainesville Sun’s Pat Dooley says that no coach cares about your team more than you care about your team, he means it.
It was a tough pill to swallow, but Meyer cited health issues. And at 11 years old, that was something I could come to terms with (as if it required my approval).
But what I couldn’t come to terms with was when he accepted a job at Ohio State just two years later.
That’s when Urban Meyer became Urban Liar.
Did he see the sun setting on Jim Tressel’s tenure? Was a pedestrian 7-5 finish in 2010 and a lack of elite talent on Florida’s roster that scary looking? Did he dream of wearing a red sweater vest on the sideline of his home state’s flagship football program?
Was he even ill?
While I had the questions, I couldn’t care less what the answers were.
The sting of feeling duped and betrayed stuck around. But like anything else, you get over it. Eventually, other things require your emotional attention… like the feeling of knowing Tim Tebow was so close to being a Jacksonville Jaguar in 2012, yet it never happened.
In 2018, I was fortunate enough to see the should-have-been-Jaguar get inducted into Florida’s Ring of Honor at the end of the first quarter against LSU.
There are no surprises to be seen— it’s just a big ol’ sign with the inductee’s name, jersey number and the Gator head alongside it all.
Tebow’s looks the same as Steve Spurrier’s, who was inducted in 2006.
Nonetheless, it’s incredibly special for the inductee, whose name will be permanently affixed to the north end-zone wall of The Swamp forever.
Not to mention, not everyone gets in. In fact, to my knowledge, there is only one soul on this earth that currently* meets the criteria, yet hasn’t been inducted — maybe.
His name is Urban Meyer.
One of the criteria for induction is a UF coach who has won a national championship. Meyer did that… twice.
However, at the bottom of the list of criteria, heeds one final, fine-line requirement: “The individual… must be in good standing with the University.”
Does Meyer fit that mold? I think so.
After years spent calling him “Urban Liar,” it’s incredibly selfish to turn a blind eye to his accomplishments as Florida’s coach.
Meyer averaged over 10 wins a season at Florida, not to mention two SEC titles, two national titles and a Heisman winner.
Meyer was a vital piece of Gainesville’s “glory days.” And he deserves recognition for that.
Did he do it the right way all of the time? Heck no.
Did he handle his departure correctly? Probably not.
But was there a better way to do it? Think on that. Would Florida and its fans have been less likely to be rubbed the wrong way had Meyer come out and said that he wanted to go home and coach at OSU? You’d be naive to think so.
And since retiring from coaching (and I do believe he is retired from coaching), Meyer has been a soundboard for UF.
And it’s time for UF to be a soundboard for a Meyer.
Get the tarps out. Induct him.
*Any former Gator that gets inducted into the NFL Hall of Fame becomes eligible for ROH consideration
Follow Ainslie Lee on Twitter @AinsliesTwoBits. Contact her at alee@alligator.org.
