This is an archived article that was published on sltrib.com in 2010, and information in the article may be outdated. It is provided only for personal research purposes and may not be reprinted.
BYU has a big problem, one made bigger by the vastness of its own tradition.
Its offense blows.
When the Cougars blow on offense, questions become almost existential. In a program so keenly aware of its past, and of the name it's established by way of offensive prowess, that happens. When it circles its identity around and draws its self-esteem from all that and then gains 13 yards in a half, and scores three points in a game, when it is 2-5 and hanging its hopes for a .500 season on a who's who of opponent ineptitude over the next month, it's time to call everything into question.
And that questioning starts at the top.
Bronco Mendenhall said Monday he doesn't have a brain wired for offense, so he leaves it to the brain of current offensive coordinator Robert Anae.
He's the frontman of an outfit that stands at the bottom of significant national rankings, including total offense (107th), scoring offense (115th), passing efficiency (119th), and passing offense (97th). He's the puppet master pulling the strings on players and plans that are embarrassing a program and tarnishing a legacy. It's the equivalent of Bocelli suddenly hitting the wrong notes, of De Niro selling ShamWows, of Gisele packing an extra 50 pounds.
"When we compare ourselves to other groups — yes, we are struggling," Anae says. "Compared to ourselves? I look at it that way: How good can our group become?"
Anae is a smart, decent man who has ridden out a strong run with the Cougars on a sweet combination of offensive talent that has put up impressive win totals over the previous four seasons, although never at a BCS-bowl level.
But long before this particular season, when the talent and experience dried up, when the Cougars have had, as quarterbacks coach Brandon Doman recently put it, "no consistency or continuity," there's been trouble brewing on the offensive side, much of it surrounding Anae.
Even in good years, players have disliked the coordinator, their antipathy stemming from football decisions, worsened by Anae's stubborn streak. Communication breakdowns have made it difficult for many players to relate to the coach.
"Ask the players," Anae says, when confronted with the issue. "I'd like to think I respect each and every player."
Bad news for the OC … I did ask.
Two other related issues: Too often, the Cougars the week before a game practice plays patterned to attack an opponent, and then, come game day, Anae drastically alters the plan.
"We stick as close as we can," Anae says. "It's a process."
A process that bothers players, past and present, who are afraid to speak up and out.
When the offense featured enough veteran players, they could overcome those tendencies. This season, the guys who would stand up to Anae are gone, and now there is dissension and disunity among the younger players. Anybody want proof? Just look at the listless, spiritless demeanor of the offense.
Anae's play-calling has never been a strong suit, and more evidence of that came Saturday. The Cougars wouldn't have beaten TCU with Sean Payton calling plays, but for them to finish with fewer yards than any previous Frog opponent, including Tennessee Tech, is indicative of BYU's sad-and-sorry decline.
"Play-calling is always a deal where, if it works, great," says Anae. "If it doesn't, fault goes to the play-caller."
Fault has gone to the play-caller a lot this season.
Anae's job is to give his players their best chance of succeeding, and too frequently, he has stumbled and bumbled in that regard.
There was the early divide over which quarterback should start, Anae favoring Riley Nelson and Doman wanting Jake Heaps, and, ultimately, the ridiculous decision to split their time and, thereby, limit the progress of each. Anae quite remarkably and defiantly says he has no regrets, calling it "the exact course to take."
"There's bound to be a bunch of second-guessing when you're not successful," he says. "But there's no doubt in my mind that we did the right thing for our team."
There have been both predictable and curious play calls. And there has been the aforementioned installing of a game plan and then sudden desertion of that plan.
"We run plays we've practiced and designed," he counters.
Despite so much futility, Mendenhall on Monday gave Anae a vote of confidence, saying the real problem is rooted in focus and fundamentals. He also admitted that he has no clue when it comes to offensive football. If offense had, in fact, been Mendenhall's thing, Anae already would be gone, even though such a move would be politically delicate, considering athletic director Tom Holmoe, not Mendenhall, hired Anae. For the defensive specialist to step in and redirect the Cougar O at this juncture, he said, would be "detrimental."
Mendenhall three weeks ago took over the defense, sending former D-coordinator Jaime Hill packing and defensive players' spirits soaring. Even if he were Bill Walsh, he couldn't do both.
Lance Reynolds, who has been an assistant at BYU for three decades, is highly respected and qualified to run the offense. If not Reynolds, Doman should be calling plays, and he might be given that role in the near future. Not only does Doman have a bright football mind, he relates well to players. Were he handed the wheel … comprehensive changes would occur.
If play-calling duties were permanently removed from the ever-proud, ever-immovable Anae, he likely would walk.
"At some point, if there needs to be a change," he says, "that's a different time and different place."
Not that different.
A change, sooner rather than later, would be the best thing for BYU — a fresh perspective and an even fresher restart on a 40-year-old offensive tradition that has gone stale and, even worse, become a bad joke at the worst possible place and time — on the brink of the Cougars' bold move to independence.
GORDON MONSON hosts "The Gordon Monson Show" weekdays from 2-6 p.m. on 1280 The Zone. He can be reached at gmonson@sltrib.com.