An Open Letter to Alabama: Sorry for Ever Doubting You

Dear Alabama,

I’m a big enough man to admit when I’m wrong. And although this won’t be easy, it’s something that needs to be done.

I’m sorry I ever doubted you, Alabama. I’m sorry I fell into the trap of thinking your dynasty was done after the Ole Miss loss. I’m sorry for thinking a freakish five-turnover tornado and crazy bounces were proof that Tuscaloosa was no longer the epicenter of the college football universe.

I’m sorry for suggesting, in October, that you were coasting on name recognition alone or that you didn’t belong in the College Football Playoff discussion.

I was naive. I got caught up in the moment. There was part of me that thought Derrick Henry would eventually tire. There was part of me that thought Jake Coker wasn’t the answer.

I’m sorry for forgetting Nick Saban had won national championships with less. I’m sorry for forgetting he turned Matt Mauck, Greg McElroy and AJ McCarron into national champions.

I don’t know why I thought the challenge would be too difficult for the greatest college coach to ever live. Perhaps because it’s easy to shackle gods with rules that only apply to mortals.

Alabama, I want to apologize also for spending the entire month of December clinging to the hope my alma mater would make the Cotton Bowl a competitive affair. I let my heart get in the way of my mind. I went looking for zebras instead of noticing the steady stream of horses racing by.

Please also forgive me for thinking you were in trouble against Clemson. I should have known a flawless onside kick and emergence of O.J. Howard from Witness Protection would carry the day.

Let the record show there were other, more severe doubters. I’m doing what they won’t. Holding your breath on a Danny Kanell apology would be a risky proposition. I don’t speak for him or the other haters. Only myself.

I can’t do anything about the past disrespect I showed. I can, however, look to the future. And I can promise you it won’t happen again. Not as long as Saban is in Tuscaloosa.

Death. Taxes. Alabama. These are the three constants.

Roll Tide. And please Roll Forgiveness.