ATHENS, Ga. (AP) -Rennie Curran had to smile.
When the Georgia linebacker saw the replay of Tim Tebow sprawled out on the ground – motionless – the immediate instinct was exhilaration, maybe even a bit on envy.
“That was a vicious hit,” Curran said, unable to contain a chuckle. “Those are the kind of hits you dream about as a defensive player: When a guy doesn’t see you coming and you get him right on his chin.”
The hit that Kentucky delivered on Florida’s Heisman Trophy-winning quarterback was a defensive player’s nirvana, the sort of bone-crushing, breath-depriving, fear-inducing, machismo-driven blow that every one of them longs to dole out himself.
“There is a sound,” explained Oklahoma State free safety Lucien Antoine, nicknamed “The Punisher” for all the big hits on his resume. “I’ve never been in a car crash, but it sounds like a car crash. But when you feel it, you know that the person that you hit feels it too.”
Ouch!
smack,” which is self-explanatory and probably universal. No matter what moniker is used, it’s clear that defensive players walk a fine line between the thrill of the knockout blow and the agony of leaving someone permanently scarred.
That dichotomy was never more evident than a couple of Saturday’s ago.
With Florida winning easily in the third quarter, Tebow dropped back to pass, looking to his right for a receiver. Charging in from the left was Kentucky defensive end Taylor Wyndham, who had a head of steam and no one standing between him and the quarterback.
Wyndham lowered his helmet and delivered a vicious but legal hit on Tebow, in that sweet spot just under the facemask. That would have been bad enough for the Florida star, but on the way down he smacked the back of his helmet on Florida lineman Marcus Gilbert’s knee, causing Tebow’s neck to jerk forward violently before he crumpled to the turf.
Wyndham danced around after the hit, bumping chests with several teammates on his way to the sideline. Suddenly, the mood turned somber when everyone realized that Tebow wasn’t moving, not at first anyway. He eventually staggered off the field, spent the night in a hospital and was left with a concussion that makes his questionable for Saturday night’s huge game between the top-ranked Gators and No. 4 LSU.
im in a life-threatening situation,” Curran said. “At the same time, you want to play fast, you want to play physical, you want to play hard-nosed. Injuries are part of the game.”
How does it feel from the other side? Not so good, of course.
Getting an offensive player to admit he’s been hurt? Very tough to do.
“When you’re out there and everything’s flying around and the adrenaline’s flowing, it doesn’t even affect you,” insisted Collin Klein of Kansas State, who’s played both quarterback and receiver – two of the most vulnerable positions.
“You just pop right back up and get going,” he added. “Otherwise, they’ve created two or three problems with one hit.”
Both sides are playing mind games with each other. A defensive player is trying to intimidate, to make that other guy flinch the next time he runs a similar play or ventures into the same area of the field. The offensive player wants to show everyone the hit didn’t bother him, which is best demonstrated by getting up as quickly as possible.
“You’re going to get hit. You’re going to get hit when you’re not looking,” Georgia quarterback Joe Cox said. “But it’s not like a shark attack, where you get bit and don’t go back in the water.”
ut the hit from Wyndham.
Curran and the Bulldogs get their shot at Tebow on Oct. 31.
“The greatest thing in the world for a defense is to intimidate the offense, to make them have that fear, to let them know they have to look around, they have to watch their backs,” the Georgia linebacker said. “Especially that quarterback. If you’ve got him rattled, where he’s wondering if his line can hold up, that’s a great feeling for a defense.”
Even though football is a physical game, the most brutal shots – those “ohhhhhh hits” – rarely happen more than once of twice a game. Offensive player have learned all sorts of subtle ways to lessen a blow, whether it’s lowering a shoulder an inch or two, turning a hip every so slightly or start going down just before the full force of the blow is delivered.
“It’s like scoring a touchdown for a defensive player,” Tennessee linebacker Rico McCoy said. “That’s what you thrive off of – big plays, big hits. If it’s not an interception or causing a fumble or a fumble recovery, you’d just love to be smacking somebody around. That’s the defensive guy’s touchdown. I love ’em.”
The biggest hitters need a combination of speed, power and timing, and they seem to have an innate sense of how to position their bodies just right for maximum impact. They also need an opportunity to really tee off – which is just happened to Tebow.
free shot. Even then, Tebow had started to cushion himself from the hit a split-second ahead of time – the concussion was likely caused by him falling back into a teammate’s leg.
For Oklahoma State’s Antoine, there’s a purpose behind every big hit, more than just the primal satisfaction of knowing that someone felt the blow all the way down to their toes.
“When you hit somebody hard and you look at them the next play, they’re not going to come as hard as they always do,” the Oklahoma State safety said. “It’s always the person that hits the hardest, they always win. And when I hit somebody hard, it’s just the best feeling ever.”
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AP Sports Writers Beth Rucker in Knoxville, Tenn.; John Marshall in Kansas City; and Jeff Latzke in Stillwater, Okla., contributed to this report.
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