The end to Friday night’s duel in the desert was a tough pill to swallow for Missouri football fans. The outcome was deflating and gut-wrenching. But, in a strange way, it was also full of promise.
Missouri left the 37-30 overtime defeat to Arizona State with a laundry list of problems to fix before hitting the conference slate. What it doesn’t need to shop for is a quarterback. The one it does have introduced the nation that night to his game, persona and desire.
College football has taught us throughout the years that mere statistics, while sound quantifiers, cannot be the end-all, be-all when concocting a bold proclamation. It’s what we _saw_ from James Franklin that delivers a comfort level that wasn’t quite a commodity before the trip to Tempe.
Franklin entered the primetime showdown with the tall task of leading an offense down three starters. Running back De’Vion Moore’s early injury and the underwhelming play of the defense forced that task to grow a few more inches.
It just so turned out Franklin had done some of his own growing up the previous week. His debut in an uninspiring 17-6 victory over Miami (Ohio) was far from impressive, and no critic was harsher than Franklin himself. But the sophomore exhibited a characteristic beyond his years when he channeled that adversity to build within himself a stronger football player.
It’s difficult to understand the James Franklin swagger unless you have actually conversed with him. The same kid that responds to turnovers and three-and-outs by telling his teammates not to swear isn’t going to allow one lackluster game to taint the vision he has for himself and his program.
Despite the voice in the ear advising him to take the fetal position, Franklin rose up. He rolled out the game of his life in Tempe, Ariz., and it happened because he matched his physical abilities with a mindset molded for moments like Friday night.
In a quarterback duel with ASU’s Brock Osweiler (353 yards, four total touchdowns), Franklin more than held up his end of the battle. The sophomore dual-threat accounted for 403 all-purpose yards (319 through the air) and three touchdowns with no turnovers in lifting the Tigers from life support to a position to win the game.
Every spectator sat waiting for the Franklin mistake, the miscue or the chink in the armor that would seal the Tigers’ fate. It didn’t happen.
With mounting pressure in his face, Franklin took the challenge and ran. When the deficit reached two touchdowns in the fourth quarter, he took a breath and went back to work. And when the blackout crowd told him to take his ball and run on home, Franklin begged for more.
Fans learned that night that there are dents in the Missouri Tiger frame. They also found out that their Tigers have a quarterback ready and willing to fight right through it. Sometimes, it’s not about the game you lose, but the promise you gain.
I’m not claiming that Franklin didn’t show signs of falter: his vision and decisions were not always pristine. But all the while he was running, throwing, hurting and surviving, the Tiger quarterback stayed true to who he was. He was James Franklin. The smiling, happy, determined James Franklin.
Now, the entire country knows his story.
