By Clay Horning
The thing about Rhett Bomar is he always left you wondering.
Even now.
Let’s see, will he be somewhere else in two years? Or maybe three, a year off for the transfer and another for making lawyer money in the car business. Or could he even play this season, in Alva or Goodwell or Durant or one of the community colleges they’ve got on every street corner in Kansas?
See how that works.
He’s always been a question mark.
At the beginning, even, for all the right reasons.
He speaks well, has a great arm, at least he sounds like a leader. He certainly has the tools. Will he win one or two national championships? Probably, he’ll have to wait for Adrian Peterson to leave to win his Heisman.
He was the golden boy.
Now he’s Brent Rawls, maybe Moe Dampeer.
All the talent in the world with the judgment of a child, and not a very smart one at that. And you could almost see it coming.
He wasn’t even on campus and there were rumblings from camp Bomar, about how he’d set the world on fire just by showing up.
Asked about a tough day at the office — no, not the office at Big Red Sports/Imports — he never seemed bothered by anything he did wrong; if he ever understood he’d done anything wrong. Fumbles and interceptions? It was like somebody else was turning the ball over.
Cocky? Maybe.
Brash? Sure.
But aren’t all the great ones?
That was one way to look at it.
Here’s another.
I drank plenty of beer in college, some of it before I turned 21. Somehow, I figured out a way not to be issued a minor-in-possession citation even once.
Do you have any idea how hard it is to be nailed for the offense twice when you’re the starting quarterback at the University of Oklahoma?
Bomar made it look easy.
A phase?
Hey, he’s just a kid.
For the Sooner Nation, that had to be the hope. But all along, it made you wonder.
At Big 12 Media Days, even after a season in which his Sooners were 1-2 and 2-3, yet finished things off by winning six of seven with a Holiday Bowl victory over a squad many felt was jobbed out of a place in the Bowl Championship Series, Bob Stoops came forth with a familiar harangue.
This team is hard to motivate.
It feels entitled.
He was saying the same things last season, but the Sooners toughened up, came back from the dead and made a stand.
So why was the coach repeating himself?
My guess? The quarterback.
The Sooner brass may well have played its own role.
Paul Thompson won the job last season and fell on his face. He lost the job. Bomar got his chance and fell on his face. He kept it. He was coddled.
No second-half completions against Tulsa and five fumbles against UCLA and there was Chuck Long defending his man and there was Thompson, realizing the way the world was turning and moving to receiver.
Here’s an irony.
The last thing Thompson owes OU is moving back to quarterback. On the other hand, he’s lost the only guy with any experience at getting him the ball. So, for reasons generous or selfish, he’s certain to agree to move back.
And here’s another.
It could still work.
Thompson was terrible against TCU but he could rebound.
It’s a story with all the makings.
But if he struggles again, folks will wonder about Bomar a little more.
What would the Sooners have been with the golden boy from Grand Prairie?
That’s where the wondering should stop.
As it turns out, Bomar never had what it took to make it here.
All the skills and none of the judgment.
That’s why he’s gone.
Clay Horning366-3526cfhorning@normantranscript.com
