Every now and then, as I pore over old newspapers, call and clean data, and try to shape it all into something resembling a coherent story for the 149 Weeks series, I stumble upon something interesting and grab onto it. I have to show you this shiny new thing I’d just unearthed, so I stick it into one of the chapters and imagine your eyes widened and eyebrows raised as you encounter it. Fortunately, I (usually) remove those shiny things before publishing. But some are too interesting - or too weird - to shelve forever. So I decided I’d share them under the guise of taking a “Bye Week” from the 149 Weeks series. File this one under ‘things that may interest only me,’ but I hope you enjoy it anyway.

Have you ever heard of the butterfly effect?

Meteorologist Edward Lorenz didn’t quite coin the term but functions as its origin story nonetheless. On a winter morning sometime in the early 1960s, he found himself engrossed in the types of things that engross weather geeks: running atmospheric forecasting models. This particular model simulated weather patterns over a two-month period. It relied on about a dozen variables, like wind speed and temperature. Each variable with its own initial condition (that is to say, starting point), each interacting with the others, and each shaping the outcome.

Lorenz punched some numbers into his computer and walked away to grab a cup of coffee. He’d run this simulation before, so he had an idea of what to expect. But when he returned, he encountered something unexpected: the simulation had produced an outcome dramatically different than it had the first time he ran it. Why?

He pored over the data. It didn’t take long to pinpoint the culprit: .506

As he entered data into the computer, Lorenz relied on a printout that rounded data to the thousandth. The original six-digit .506127 became .506. That small, seemingly insignificant difference altered the simulation’s outcome, and not by just a little bit.123

Scientists had long viewed nature as a series of deterministic events. One thing (or, say, one set of variables) can lead to only one possible outcome. Start at X, end at Y, every single time. So, to accurately predict the weather, for example, you must know every condition of the present (initial conditions) to predict what comes next. But perfect accuracy is impossible.

A slight misreading probably won’t affect short-term predictions. A miniscule misreading of atmospheric pressure today probably won’t affect your forecast for rain tomorrow. But give it enough time or scale, and that imperceptible error (like rounding off a six-digit number to a three-digit one) pushes farther and farther off its expected path.4

Lorenz today is recognized as a founder of chaos theory.5 But it took years for his ideas to spread. He wrote a paper in 1963 explaining the phenomenon he’d observed: “Two states differing by imperceptible amounts may eventually evolve into two considerably different states.”6 He at first explained it by suggesting the air movement caused by the flap of a seagull’s wings could alter the weather forever.

But it wasn’t until he presented the idea in 1972 that his ideas reached a wider audience. That presentation asked a question: “Does the Flap of a Butterfly’s Wings in Brazil Set Off a Tornado in Texas?”

The butterfly effect.

On August 26, 2003, the South Bend Tribune ran a story lamenting the Olsen brothers’ departure from the Notre Dame program.

Chris Olsen was the MVP of that spring’s Blue-Gold game and once viewed as the program’s quarterback of the future. His younger brother, Greg Olsen, was a heralded recruit who’d arrived on campus less than a month ago.

The Tribune ran the article on the front of its sports section, its headline overlaying a nearly full-page photograph of the brothers. “COSTLY TURNOVER?” it read in all caps.7

Ironic. It was a costly turnover in 1988 that kicked off the series of events that’d lead to the brothers’ transfer in 2003.

October 15, 1988. South Bend, Indiana.

There are a few college football games of such notoriety that we know them by a single play.

The Fifth Down. Hail Flutie. “The Band Is On the Field.” Wide Right I. Wide Right II. Wide Right III. Wide Right IV. Wide Left. Games so-named for whatever stunning, outrageous, or bone-headed moment or outcome cemented them in our collective memory.

No game, though, matches the infamy of the 1988 matchup between the Miami Hurricanes and Notre Dame Fighting Irish. Known colloquially as “Catholics vs. Convicts.”

Outlets for public expression were minimal in the 1980s. There was no internet. No social media. No message boards. No chatrooms even.

So if you were a college student or a college football fan in the eighties and you felt a certain kind of way about a rival team, you’d find your options to express your animosity limited. You might hold up a handmade sign. Or do as Notre Dame students did and mail postcards to Miami students.

Or you’d wear a t-shirt.

“You can’t spell scUM without UM,” read one of the t-shirts Notre Dame students printed as they waited for Miami to arrive on campus for the rivals’ 1988 matchup. “Even God Hates Miami,” read another.8

The t-shirts became a thing ahead of the game. The Notre Dame student newspaper warned that such t-shirts were not university-approved.9 Nationally circulated papers like the Washington Post even made reference to the shirts.10

The most famous of the t-shirts, and that which gave the game its name, read “Catholics vs. Convicts.”

“Catholics vs. Convicts” suggests the good guys vs. the bad guys. The good Catholics in the north vs. the criminals down south. “I think the players are a bunch of thugs,” said a Notre Dame student, referring to the Hurricanes. “[T]he epitome of evil,” said another.11

Why the hate?

Some might argue Miami earned the reputation. Just the previous offseason, Miami had dismissed defensive tackle Darius Frazier and defensive back Michael Johnson. Frazier had been charged with drug crimes and Johnson with grand larceny-auto theft.12

There was also the 1987 Fiesta Bowl against Penn State, a game the media wrote up as “The Battle of Good vs. Evil.” Penn State the good. Miami the evil. One columnist even referred to the Hurricanes as walking “with the strut of a street gang.”13 Miami later arrived in Tempe wearing army fatigues.14 (Penn State won the game, and the national title, 14-10.)

Perhaps most of all, the hate was borne from frustration.

Until recently, Miami was just a date on the schedule to the Irish, who won 11 consecutive matchups with the Hurricanes between 1967 and 1980. But ever since, they’d dropped five of the last six, and four consecutive, to their new rivals, usually in spectacular fashion.

1987: Miami 24, Notre Dame 0

1985: Miami 58, Notre Dame 7

1984: Miami 31, Notre Dame 13

1983: Miami 20, Notre Dame 0

1982: Notre Dame 16, Miami 14

1981: Miami 37, Notre Dame 15

Notre Dame’s administration worried about the emotional highs spreading across campus.

It posted notices in dorms warning of consequences for flying banners in poor taste. Head coach Lou Holtz wrote a letter to students in the campus newspaper, The Observer, urging them to show the Hurricanes respect.15 Even the cafeteria stopped selling oranges, fearing students might hurl them onto the field on game day.16

But all of this is beside the point.

It’s not the lead-up to the game we care about for this story. Nor is it the outcome. Not quite, anyway.

What concerns us for this story, is an event that occurred midway through the fourth quarter.

Miami ball at the Notre Dame 11-yard line. The Hurricanes trailing 31-24. “Fourth down and everything,” as play-by-plan man Brent Musburger put it, Miami electing to go for the touchdown instead of the easy field goal.

Quarterback Steve Walsh took the snap from under center, two men in the backfield, including running back Cleveland Gary, who had played the entire game with broken ribs.17 Gary ran a sort-of angle route out of the backfield, crossed behind the linebacker, and spun to grab Walsh’s pass thrown to his back shoulder. He caught the pass at about the two, fell forward, and reached for the goal line.

The ball popped loose. The Irish jumped on it on the three. The officials conferred and rule: Irish ball.

Miami head coach Jimmy Johnson lost it. “First down! First down!” he yelled, gesturing for the referees to make the right call. After the game, squeezing “out the words as they were coated with gall,” as Miami Herald writer Edwin Pope described it, he insisted there was “[n]o question, Gary had the ball at the one. One official told me Gary was down at the one, and I said, ‘Then why isn’t that enough for a first down?’”18

Walsh was just as perplexed. “I went over there screaming, ‘He was down. He was down,’” he said. “One of the officials said to me, ‘Yeah, I know, just relax.’ Then the other came over and overruled him.”19

One of the officials later admitted to blowing the call.

“There was confusion as to whether there was a fumble or not, but there was also a great question about giving Notre Dame the football over on downs. That’s why they got the football. There was no fumble. The ruling was the ball went over on downs. We were wrong in doing it, but the truth is we just had a very bad day.”20

That’s why Johnson was so furious. Miami only needed to get to the four-yard line for a first down. If Gary hadn’t fumbled and the ball was down at the one, it’s a first down for the Hurricanes on the one-yard line.

(The official statement from the Southern Independent College Officials Association, who fielded some of the officials for the game, said its officials stood by the call.21)

For his part, Gary insists he reached the end zone. “I definitely scored a touchdown,” Gary told Sports Illustrated in 2025. “The ground cannot cause a fumble. I scored a touchdown.”22

And for his part, Notre Dame safety George Streeter insists he knocked the ball loose before Gary’s knee touched or the ball crossed the goal line.23

In any case, Miami’s pleas went unheeded. It was Notre Dame’s ball at the one.

The Hurricanes got more last chance with two minutes left in the game.

With Notre Dame deep in its own territory, linebacker Randy Shannon sacked quarterback Tony Rice, who fumbled inside the Irish 15 yard line. Miami recovered, and Walsh found wide receiver Andre Brown in the end zone a few plays later, the clock now under a minute.

Notre Dame 31, Miami 30. An extra-point ties it. A two-point conversion wins it. Johnson went for the win.

Walsh looked for Conley on the right side of the end zone, a lob easily knocked to the ground by defensive back Pat Terrell.

Notre Dame calls it “The Play.” The Irish more or less won the national title on that play.

The impossible had happened, wrote Greg Cote in the Miami Herald the following day. “The game beat the buildup. And somebody beat the University of Miami.”24

It was turnovers that did in the Hurricanes. Seven of them. The “Sinful Seven,” as Cote called them.

1st Quarter: Steve Walsh fumbled at the UM 41

1st Quarter: Walsh intercepted at the UM 31

2nd Quarter: Walsh intercepted at the ND 40

3rd Quarter: Leonard Conley fumbled at the UM 37

3rd Quarter: Walsh intercepted at the ND 23

4th Quarter: Cleveland Gary fumbled* at the ND 1

4th Quarter: Walsh fumbled at the ND 28

Point to any of the seven, and you’d be right to decry a missed opportunity in such a tight game. Somehow, only two turned into scores: a 60-yard pick-six by Terrell in the second quarter and a field goal in the third.

But it’s the Gary fumble that lives on in infamy. It’s the Gary fumble-that-wasn’t-a-fumble that leaves us wondering, what if? What if the officials had gotten it right? What if they’d placed the ball on the one yard line and called a first-down for Miami?

What if Miami then scored? Would they’ve won the game? Would Miami, not Notre Dame, had played West Virginia for the national title?

The game’s short-term consequences were easy enough to predict.

Notre Dame would rise in the AP Top 20 rankings. And Miami would drop. Notre Dame had become more likely to play for the national title game. And Miami less so.

And that’s exactly what happened. Notre Dame climbed from #4 to #2 after the game. Miami fell from #1 to #4. And Notre Dame would play for, and win, the national title.

Less clear were the fumble’s long-term ripples. What imperceptible conditions were present at the time that’d have far-off consequences?

Here’s one. A nine-year-old boy at home in Tennessee would watch Notre Dame, not Miami, take on his beloved University of West Virginia Mountaineers in that season’s national title game.

He’d watch Notre Dame, not Miami, beat West Virginia to become national champions of the 1988 season. He’d cry afterwards. But he’d be so taken with Notre Dame and their golden helmets that he’d enroll at the university a decade later. We couldn’t have known in 1988 that his admiration for Notre Dame would spread to his family, and to friends of his family.

Had the refs gotten the call right in 1988, Greg Olsen may never have become a Miami Hurricane in 2003.

January 2, 1989. Columbia, Tennessee.

Growing up in Columbia, Tennessee, nine-year-old Kelechi Ndukwe might’ve seen the Associated Press story that ran in The Tennessean the day after Notre Dame’s victory.

“A Classic Irish Fable,” read its headline. It only slopped more unabashed praise on top of it. “It was the Gipper and the Four Horsemen; it was Rockne, Lea and Parseghian. It was another chapter in the history of college football’s most storied school.”25

But Kelechi had little time for Notre Dame in the fall of 1988. He was a Mountaineer.

When Kelechi’s father, Stephen, immigrated to the United States from Nigeria years earlier, he’d contacted universities around the United States inquiring about their curriculums. He chose WVU for its affordable tuition. His mother, Nnenna, also attended.

The University of West Virginia was dear to the Ndukwes. Yes, Stephen had stayed in an apartment so cramped he claimed not to be able to fully stand up inside of it. And he’d endured harassment as a recent immigrant, like when some of the fraternity brothers on campus would regularly soak him with beer.

But Stephen and Nnenna held WVU in high esteem nonetheless. The school had given the Ndukwes a good education and their family a future. Stephen earned Bachelors and Masters degrees in mechanical engineering and later found work as an engineer for General Motors and then for Saturn, the Tennessee-based automaker.26

It was there, from his family’s home in Tennessee, that Kelechi witnessed West Virginia’s remarkable 1988 season unfold.

The last time West Virginia defeated both of its primary rivals, Pittsburgh and Penn State, in the same season, Dwight Eisenhower was less than a year into his presidency. That was 1953.

The Mountaineers would finish the occasional season in the AP Top 20. And they’d go a bowl game now and then. But WVU was far from college football’s glitterati.

That changed when Don Nehlen took over in 1980.

Nehlen was the former head coach at Bowling Green and spent the last few seasons as an assistant at Michigan. Whereas West Virginia finished in the AP Top 20 just five times prior to 1980, they finished in the top 20 three consecutive seasons between 1981 and 1983. And whereas bowl games were historically an occasional treat, Nehlen brought them to four straight from 1981 to 1984.

The middle of the decade brought some down years, but 1988 looked promising. Sixteen of 22 starters were back, standout quarterback Major Harris among them. “On paper, we have a decent club,” Nehlen said, “but we have a long way to go before we are as good as some people think we’re going to be.” Lenn Robbins, writing for The Record, compared Nehlen’s soft assessment to “a man who knows he has a good hand and doesn’t want to tip it.”27

On September 24, 1988, WVU beat Pittsburgh 31-10. And on October 29, they beat Penn State 51-30. Nehlen’s Mountaineers finished the 1988 regular season with a 31-9 win over 14th ranked Syracuse on November 19, ending the year undefeated. Notre Dame, meanwhile, delivered USC its first loss of the season and knocked the Trojans from title contention.

The Fiesta Bowl would feature the nation’s two remaining undefeated teams. West Virginia would take on Notre Dame for the national title.

But there’s not much to say about the 1989 Fiesta Bowl. Harris, the West Virginia quarterback, separated his shoulder on the third play of the game. He continued, but was clearly hampered. “My timing just wasn’t right,” he said later. “I was just hurting.” Nehlen admitted to avoiding the option play, the bread and butter of the WVU offense, out of fear Harris would further injure his shoulder.28

Notre Dame jumped out to a 23-6 lead at halftime, and while Harris brought the Mountaineers to within a couple scores in the third quarter, the game was never really close.

The Irish won 34-21.

The loss brought nine-year-old Kelechi Ndukwe to tears.

Soon, those tears turned to curiosity. Then admiration. The game stayed with Kelechi for a long time. But it wasn’t the loss he was stewing over. It was those golden helmets.

“It kind of planted a seed,” Kelechi said of the game. He started telling his parents he wanted to attend Notre Dame, and they too would grow enamored with the “classic Irish fable.”

“The first time we set foot on campus, we all felt it,” Kelechi’s father, Stephen, said. “For Nnenna, for some reason, she said it felt like this is where God was. She said this is where dreams are made. I said to myself, ‘This is awesome,’ and everything came together.”29

Kelechi studied chemical engineering at Notre Dame on an ROTC scholarship (he was later commanding officer of the USS Halsey30). He’d often invite his youngest brother, Chinedum, then in middle school, to visit, and Chinedum would usually bring his best friend along to check out the campus.

That friend was Brady Quinn.

August 12, 2002. Columbus, Ohio.

When he was in seventh grade, Chinedum begged his parents to let him play football.

Stephen and Nnenna had recently moved the family to Columbus, Ohio, and Chinedum had become friends with a kid in town named Brady. They first met playing baseball, but Brady soon encouraged his new friend to try football. The Ndukwes were skeptical but eventually relented.

The families grew close, and Chinedum and Brady became like brothers. They played football, Quinn the quarterback and Ndukwe the wide receiver, shared classes, and went to the movies.31

And they visited Notre Dame. Kelechi often invited the family, Quinn included, to South Bend, hoping they’d “see what makes Notre Dame what it is.”

“I’ll never forget an incident one time,” Stephen recalled, “when Chinedum and Brady and the other boys came back to the dorm room after the game and they thought I was asleep. It was nice to listen to them marking out their strategy. They were going to go to the party and they were going to tell the girls at the party they were (high school) seniors being recruited.”32

“Yeah we told some of the girls that we were football recruits who were thinking about going to Notre Dame,” Quinn would say later, though it was unclear if he was referring to the same occasion that Stephen recalled.

“I was the one who started talking to the girls,” Ndukwe countered, teasing his long-time friend. “Maybe Brady got their attention, because he has the looks, but I did all the talking.”33

Quinn threw for 2,200 yards and 21 touchdowns as a junior at Dublin Coffman High School. Ndukwe caught 59 passes for 840 yards and 12 touchdowns. The media began calling them “the Dublin Duo,” and they spoke openly of playing college football together.34

Scouts soon put Chinedum and Brady on their radars. Programs around the country called, sent letters, and even showed up on their high school campus. But Notre Dame was quiet. Not a peep. And it stung. He asked Brady if he’d heard anything, but he reported the same: nothing from the Irish. “Maybe Notre Dame is stupid,” Chinedum wondered.35

Brady suggested they attend Notre Dame’s summer football camp that June ahead of their senior season. Chinedum’s father, Stephen, agreed. “If they’re not opening their eyes, go open their eyes up for them,” he told his son. So he did.

Notre Dame offered Chinedum a scholarship on the spot.36

But Brady received no such offers. At least not from Notre Dame.

Louisville was first to offer him a scholarship. Ohio State did too. And Michigan. As the summer wore on, Brady seemed to lean toward the Wolverines.

Brady Quinn could’ve very well been a Michigan Wolverine had Chinedum’s father, Stephen, not spoken with Notre Dame coach Ty Willingham. “He told Ty that Brady was better than anybody he had on his team right now,” said Mark Crabtree, Brady and Chinedum’s high school football coach.37

Willingham offered Quinn a scholarship that July. He accepted in early August.38

August 24, 2003. South Bend, Indiana.

Chris Olsen’s phone was still ringing two months after his verbal commitment.

“They were just calling to say, ‘Hi,’” he said, probably a little wryly. “I don’t think they were really trying to push me to decommit from Notre Dame.”

Olsen verbally committed to Notre Dame head coach Bob Davie over Fourth of July weekend in 2001. The early commitment freed him to focus on his upcoming senior season, he said. And besides, he was very comfortable with his decision. His dad, Chris Olsen Sr., the head football coach at Wayne Hills High School in New Jersey where Chris played, made sure of it.

“My dad said no matter what, I’m sticking with this, and that’s fine with me. When I get these phone calls, I’m just going to say, ‘Thanks for calling.’”39

No matter what turned out to be relentless in the fall of 2001.

First, Chris tore his ACL in the first game of his senior season but returned to the field wearing a knee brace a few weeks later, postponing surgery until December.40

Then, Notre Dame fired Davie after the Irish finished 5-6 and missed out on a bowl game for the second time in three years.

And then, the man they’d hired to replace Davie, George O’Leary, resigned after just five days on the job when it was revealed he’d lied on his resume years before.41 Chris learned the news as he was coming out of ACL surgery.42

When Tyrone Willingham was named coach soon after, Olsen admitted he was concerned, having never been recruited by Willingham when he was the head coach at Stanford.

But Willingham’s pro-style offense was more Chris’s speed than Davie’s, which made liberal use of the option. “Coach Willingham told me he runs a pro-style offense, and that I’m the type of quarterback he likes to play with,” Olsen said. “He told me he wasn’t recruiting any other [passing] quarterback.”43

Chris kept his commitment and spent his freshman season as a scout-team tackling dummy44 behind starter Carlyle Holiday and backup Tom Dillingham.

Chris’s little brother, Greg, meanwhile, was a top tight end prospect in the summer of 2001. “He’s big-time,” Chris said of his brother, then entering his junior season. “Maybe he’ll follow me to Notre Dame.”45

He did. Greg signed a letter of intent for Notre Dame in February 2003. And so did an eager Brady Quinn.

Chris had been the spring game MVP and hoped to challenge Holiday for playing time in 2003. “The reason I came here was to be the starter at Notre Dame,” Chris said after the game. “I didn’t come here to be the backup.” He acknowledged a long road to catch up to Holiday, but it was clear Chris wouldn’t be content holding a clipboard for four years.

Both young quarterbacks, each of them blue-chip prospects, had a real shot at competing for the backup spot behind Holiday, who’d solidified the starting job in spring practice. It’d depend on what they did over the summer, their offensive coordinator said, and how they look in preseason camp.46

Quinn is said to have begun studying his playbook the day his new coaches sent it to him, all 465 pages of it. He “digested it regularly,” his high school coach said.47 Even his competition noticed. “He’s really in his playbook and I think it’s helped him out a lot,” Holiday said of Quinn. “I mean, he’s much further along than I ever was as a freshman.”48

A year earlier, Chris too immediately dove into his playbook after signing his letter of intent. He began “metabolizing” it during study hall as a high school season, as Eric Hansen of the South Bend Tribune put it.49

Chris remained the frontrunner for the backup job as preseason camp got underway. Dillingham, the previous year’s backup, missed most of camp with an injured hand. And Quinn, for all his prep and promise, was still a freshman months removed from high school graduation.

But as preseason camp wound down, and just a couple of weeks ahead of the season opener, Chris decided to leave Notre Dame.50 It’d become clear to him, he said, that the coaches didn’t view him as the future at the position, and he respected that.51

He transferred to Virginia. NCAA rules required he sit out a year after transferring, so he bided his time behind Matt Schaub and then Marques Hagans before entering his redshirt senior season as the starter and team captain.52 But he’d relinquish the starting job just a few games into the season. He accepted the demotion with grace, tutored freshman quarterback Jameel Sewell who had assumed the starting role, and remained a team leader.53

Four games into Notre Dame’s 2003 season, Quinn took over for a struggling Holiday and held the starting spot for four years.

August 27, 2003. Miami, Florida.

Attention quickly turned to Greg’s future. Would he follow his older brother’s lead and leave South Bend? Were the Olsen brothers a packaged deal?

“I told Greg that he was separate from Chris,” Chris Sr. said. “He can’t let Chris’ situation bother him. He has to be his own guy.”54

The next day, Greg left Notre Dame too. “I’ve said this from the beginning,” wrote recruiting analyst Tom Lemming shortly after the Olsens left Notre Dame. “Greg Olsen did not have a great visit to Notre Dame but he did have a great visit to Miami (Fla.). But his dad wanted the family together. And that’s why Greg went to Notre Dame. I think he was pushed into joining the Irish.”55

Call it what you will - a desire to play with his brother, a push from his father - Chris’ departure changed things for Greg. “Without a doubt, when my brother left it took something out of being at Notre Dame for me,” he said. “Chris was basically the reason I made the decision to go there in the first place.”56

This time, he didn’t follow his brother. On August 27, the Miami Herald reported that Greg applied for admission to Miami.57 He redshirted in 2003, backed up Kevin Everett in 2004, and emerged as the next great Miami tight end in 2005 and 2006, earning All-ACC honors as a junior. He was selected with the 31st pick of the first round in the 2007 NFL Draft by the Chicago Bears.

And that’s how those initial conditions from South Bend, Indiana, in 1988 - a blown call that turned the Irish into a frontrunner to play for the national title - set in motion a series of unpredictable events, owing to a number of imperceptible variables.

A surprise national title run by West Virginia.

A young Kelechi Ndukwe rooting for WVU to take down Notre Dame for the national title but growing enamored with the Irish.

The Ndukwes’ move to Columbus, Ohio, where younger brother Chinedum would befriend a kid named Brady Quinn.

Chinedum and Quinn’s growth into high school football stars.

The elder Ndukwe encouraging the Notre Dame coaches to take a closer look at Quinn.

Quinn battling Chris Olsen for the backup quarterback spot, and the future at the position in South Bend.

Chris transferring to Virginia in search of an opportunity for playing time.

Chris’ brother, Greg, who chose Notre Dame to be with Chris, leaving too.

And Greg choosing this time not to follow his brother, choosing instead to attend the University of Miami.

The butterfly effect.

That anybody would waste an iota of energy arguing for a program other than the University of Miami as Tight End U is preposterous. Such effort, wasted. Such claims, erroneous.

They went to more Pro Bowls, amassed more years as the primary starter for their respective NFL teams, and led all alumni groups in NFL counting statistics like receptions, receiving yards, and receiving touchdowns.

And it’s not close.

Look at it however you like. It’s damn hard to find a way that doesn’t point to Miami as Tight End U.

Inventing Tight End U

Miami’s national title season featured two heralded tight ends.

One would be named the team’s MVP. His backup would finish the following season 16th in the nation in receiving yards. Both would be named All-Americans. Both would be drafted and play in the NFL.

That was 1983.

Glenn Dennison was the Jack Harding Team MVP of the 1983 season and earned second-team All-America honors. Willie Smith, Dennison’s backup in 1983, was a second-team All-American in 1984 and a first-team All-American in 1985.

Joining them on that 1983 roster was Alfredo Roberts, a redshirt freshman tight end who’d spend most of his career as a backup but who’s enjoyed a long NFL coaching career. He’s currently the New York Jets tight ends coach.

Rob Chudzinski arrived a bit later. As a tight end, he won two national titles with Miami in 1987 and 1989. He later began a lengthy coaching career, which he began as a graduate assistant with the Hurricanes.

Miami’s tight ends in the 1980s were solid. Their tight ends a decade later were something else entirely.

The pass-catching, touchdown-scoring tight end isn’t quite a modern invention.

Mike Ditka became the position’s first standout in 1961 when, as a rookie, he caught 12 touchdowns, a record for touchdowns by a tight end that went unmet for over 20 years and unbroken for over 40.

Tight ends Billy Cannon, Raymond Chester, Dave Casper, and Todd Christensen, who tied Ditka’s record in 1983, featured prominently in the Raiders’ offenses of the 1960s, 1970s, and 1980s.

And then there was Kellen Winslow, Sr., Ozzie Newsome, Shannon Sharpe, Wesley Walls, Ben Coates, and Tony Gonzalez in the 1980s and 1990s.

But for most of the NFL’s history, most teams used most tight ends as undersized blockers who’d catch the occasional pass.

That began to change at the turn of the century. Tight ends accounted for 17.2% of NFL receptions and 19.6% of touchdown receptions between 1960 and 1999. In the 2000s, it jumped to 18.8% of receptions and 22.9% of touchdown receptions. Then to 21.1% of receptions and 25.2% of touchdown receptions in the 2010s.

Take a look around and it’s hard to find another program that contributed more to this revolution than Miami.

Credit Bubba Franks with inventing Tight End U.

His tenure brought national prestige to the tight end position in Coral Gables. A mountain of a man (6’6”, 250 pounds), his spectacular catches earned column inches in newspapers and air time on television.

He was lucky to play under Chudzinski, a former tight end himself who recognized intimately the position’s potential.

“You can look at the tight end position two ways,” Chudzinski said in 1997. “The tight end is the worst receiver and worst offensive lineman because he has to do both or, the tight end is one of the most versatile athletes on the field. It’s hard to find guys who are big and strong and physical enough to block, and agile enough to run routes and catch.”1

Chudzinski developed the program’s reputation for utilizing and producing elite tight ends, first as tight ends coach between 1996 and 2000 and later as tight ends coach and offensive coordinator between 2001 and 2003. That began with Franks.

Franks blossomed into an All-American and first-round draft pick under Chudzinski’s tutelage, and his departure following the 1999 season left a hole.

“How do you replace Bubba?” a rhetorical Butch Davis asked. “It’s been a discussion in our staff meetings a lot. He was the best tight end in America in college football last year.”2

But Franks’ success under Chudzinski made Miami shine brighter for high school and junior college tight ends looking for a program where they too might shine.

“We’ve tried to make the tight end position lethal,” Chudzinski would say a couple of years later after being promoted to offensive coordinator. “You really have to look to try to do it. It’s not something where you say you want to throw to the tight end. You have to find ways of doing it and making it work.”3

As Jeremy Shockey shopped around for transfer options following his stellar freshman season at Northeastern Oklahoma (NEO) A&M, he said he hoped to join a program “where they utilize the tight end in their offense.”4 The Hurricanes had proven that with Franks.

Kellen Winslow II chose Miami for its wide receivers coach, Curtis Johnson.5 Not only did Winslow II’s father, Hall of Famer Kellen Winslow Sr., suggest he consider programs with people of color in positions of authority6 (Johnson was one of two black Miami assistants), but Johnson had a proven knack for developing elite pass-catchers (Santana Moss and Reggie Wayne were top NFL prospects at the time).

Greg Olsen followed his brother to Notre Dame. But he’d had a better visit to Miami7 and the Hurricanes were the better fit. As Olsen was making his decision, South Bend writers worried Miami’s recent success developing tight ends like Franks, Shockey, and Winslow would lure Olsen south.8 When his brother transferred before the season, Greg did too. This time, he didn’t follow his brother. He chose Miami.

Jimmy Graham was a fan-favorite of the Miami basketball team. As Graham spoke with basketball coach Frank Haith about playing overseas following his senior season, the football coaches inquired if he’d be interested in trying out for the football team.9 He was.

Chudzinski coached Olsen and Winslow II into All-Americans and first-round selections. Olsen was All-ACC and a first-round pick as well. Graham, still a raw football prospect, went in the third round of the draft but enjoyed the best NFL career of any of Miami’s tight ends. He’s currently fourth all-time in touchdowns by a tight end (89).

Whereas Miami’s tight ends of the 1980s hadn’t blossomed into prominent professional players, its tight ends at the turn of the century certainly did.

Tight End U of the 2000s

When David Ching began covering LSU for ESPN in 2014, he noticed that the Tigers defensive backs claimed the moniker, “Defensive Back U.”10

That summer, he decided he’d find out if the moniker was deserved. He devised a rubric that awarded points for major individual awards, All-Americans, NFL draft position, and coaches’ all-conference selections. The program with the most points wins.11

LSU wasn’t Defensive Back U. Ohio State was. The Buckeyes scored 238 points on Ching’s rubric. Oklahoma scored 220. LSU scored 218.12

The Hurricanes were fourth with 202 points. And when Ching ran the analysis for other positions, Miami featured in the top 10 of several of them: Defensive Back U (4th), Linebacker U (T-4th), Offensive Line U (7th), Kicker U (8th).

Most of his Position U rankings were relatively close at the top. Ohio State beat Oklahoma for DBU by just 8.2%. Oklahoma beat USC for QBU by 5.6%.

But the Hurricanes ran away with Tight End U.13 Four points separated the second- and fifth-place program in Ching’s TEU analysis. A difference of 6.5%. Eighteen points separated Miami from the second-place program. A difference of 27.3%. Only Ohio State’s crown as Linebacker U was by a greater margin (27.6%).14

That’s the thing about the Hurricanes in the 2000s. Talented? Clearly. More talented than other programs? Yes again.

But it’s more than that. It’s the metaphorical distance at which Miami tight ends collectively ran ahead of other cohorts. Not merely victory but margin of victory.

How best to crown Tight End U of the 2000s? Do as Ching and look primarily at collegiate performance?

I enjoyed Ching’s series when he published it in 2014. He’d developed a quantifiable means of settling what’s always been a qualitative debate (my team is better than yours!). But I disagree with his method, that Position U is best measured collegiately.

I get it. If you’re calling a program the Position University, instinct suggests looking at players’ performance while at that university. But what’s the purpose of university if not to prepare pupils for professional success? And if that’s the case, what better way to crown Position U than by weighing players’ professional success?

Tight End U goes to the program that best prepares its pupils for professional success. So let’s look at this three ways.

First, compare the professional careers of tight ends drafted between 2000 and 2009. Because one might logically bestow Tight End U of the 2000s upon the program that sent the best tight ends to the league during the decade.

Second, compare tight end production during the 2000s only, regardless of draft year. Because Tight End U of the 2000s might suggest tight end performance during the decade.

And third, compare tight end performance during the period comprising The Streak. Because that same overperformance we explored in Chapter 2 (not merely victory but margin of victory) rears its head as we compare tight end play during the span comprising The Streak.

By tight ends drafted in the 2000s

Of the 153 tight ends selected in the NFL draft between 2000 and 2009, six were Miami Hurricanes: Franks (1st round, 2000), Mondriel Fulcher (7th, 2000), Shockey (1st, 2002), Winslow (1st, 2004), Kevin Everett (3rd, 2005), and Olsen (1st, 2007).

Fifteen tight ends were first-rounders, and Miami alums comprised over a quarter of them (four). No other program produced more than one.

Virginia, Notre Dame, and Iowa matched Miami with six tight ends drafted in all, but that’s where the comparison ends. The Miami tight ends spent 32 years as primary starters on their respective NFL teams. Iowa’s tight ends managed half that and Notre Dame’s and Virginia’s less than half. And the Miami tight ends went to 11 Pro Bowls. Only the Tennessee alumni group matched them, and that was all Jason Witten.

Tennessee is the second most productive alumni group in each of the three counting statistics. Miami’s miles ahead. Over 600 more receptions, over 7,500 more receiving yards, and 65 more receiving touchdowns.

The difference between Tennessee and the fifth most productive alumni group? Seven-hundred-twenty-seven (727) receptions, 7,551 yards, 27 touchdowns.

Not just victory but margin of victory.

By tight ends who played in the 2000s

Limiting ourselves to only tight ends drafted during the 2000s omits players like Tony Gonzalez, drafted in 1997 but whose career spanned the entirety of the 2000s and who was the decade’s best player at the position.

Seven Hurricanes tight end alumni posted receiving statistics in the 2000s: Franks, Fulcher, Shockey, Winslow, Everett, Olsen, and Buck Ortega. Nine USC tight ends recorded statistics, and eight Washington, Virginia, and Penn State tight ends.

The Miami tight ends went to eight Pro Bowls, second behind only California, but that was all Gonzalez.

The Hurricanes again boat-raced the field in counting statistics. Georgia placed second to Miami in receptions by over 300. California placed second to Miami in receiving yards and touchdowns by over 2,500 yards and 26 touchdowns.

The gap between second and fifth? One-hundred-ninety-five (195) receptions, 2,439 receiving yards, and 14 receiving touchdowns.

Not just victory but margin of victory.

By tight ends during The Streak

One-hundred and seventy-four tight ends scored at least one touchdown in the span comprising Miami’s streak. Five of them were Miami Hurricanes – 2.9%. They were Franks, Shockey, Winslow, Olsen, and Graham.

Tight ends caught 1,446 touchdowns during this span. One-hundred-seven (107) were caught by Miami Hurricanes – 7.4%.

Matching the Hurricanes with five tight ends with at least a touchdown were the Florida Gators, Oregon Ducks, and UCLA Bruins. But only one Bruin (Marcedes Lewis, 17), one Duck (Justin Peelle, 12), and one Gator (Aaron Hernandez, 11) caught double-digit touchdowns.

Forty-eight (48) tight ends caught double-digit touchdowns during this span, including all five of the Miami tight ends – 10.4%. No other alumni group had more than two tight ends produce double-digit NFL touchdowns.

It’s the same story in the counting statistics. Georgia followed Miami in receptions and receiving yards by 410 receptions and 4,870 receiving yards. Kent State followed Miami in receiving touchdowns by 36.

The gap between the second and fifth alumni groups? Two-hundred-sixty-three (263) receptions, 2,023 receiving yards, and 16 touchdowns.

Not just victory but margin of victory.

There’s another interesting pattern that repeats itself from Chapter 2.

In that chapter, we dissected the alumni groups’ touchdown totals during the span comprising Miami’s streak and saw prolific quarterbacks like Peyton Manning, Tom Brady, and Drew Brees inflate their respective alumni groups’ totals.

That same pattern is present here. When we compared tight ends drafted during the 2000s, the Tennessee alumni group was second to Miami in each of the counting stats categories. That was mostly Jason Witten.

When we compared tight ends who played during the 2000s regardless of draft year, California featured prominently. That was mostly Tony Gonzalez.

And when we compared tight end performance during The Streak, the Kent State alumni group entered the mix. That was mostly Antonio Gates.

Miami, meanwhile, saw significant contribution from several tight ends. Franks, Shockey, Winslow, Olsen, and, in the analysis of tight ends during The Streak, Jimmy Graham.

Whereas other programs produced tight ends of quality or quantity, Miami produced a remarkable quantity of quality tight ends.

Still Tight End U

Franks retired after the 2008 season. Shockey after the 2011 season. Winslow after the 2013 season. Olsen after the 2020 season. And Graham after the 2023 season.

As the 2000s turned into the 2010s, the Hurricanes produced fewer elite tight ends.

Clive Walford left Miami after the 2014 season its all-time leader in touchdown receptions by a tight end with 14, breaking Franks’ record of 12. He played five seasons in the NFL.

In 2017, David Njoku became the first Hurricanes tight end in a decade to be selected in the first round. He went to the Pro Bowl in 2023 after catching 81 passes for 882 yards and six touchdowns.

Brevin Jordan and Will Mallory were fifth-round selections in 2021 and 2023, respectively. Elijah Arroyo was a second-round selection in 2025. Njoku, Jordan, Mallory, and Arroyo were all active in the 2025 season, though Jordan spent it on injured reserve.

Miami’s post-2000s have been solid but not the elite bunch drafted at the turn of the century. Two-hundred-thirty (230) tight ends have been drafted since 2010. Nine of them were Miami Hurricanes, trailing only Notre Dame with 10. Those nine Miami tight ends are top five in Pro Bowls (6), years as primary starter (18), and receptions, receiving yards, and receiving touchdowns.

That’s mostly Graham, who was drafted in 2010. Remove him, and Miami’s tight end alumni have been fairly pedestrian: one Pro Bowl, eight seasons as primary starter, 10th in receptions and receiving yards, and ninth in receiving touchdowns. And that’s mostly Njoku.

But here’s where things get interesting. Widen the analysis to the entire millennium thus far (2000 to 2025), and Miami shoots back into the top alumni groups.

Even as the talent ebbed and the program burrowed into its 20-year hibernation of ACC mediocrity, such was the Hurricanes’ turn-of-the-century talent that the Miami tight ends are still the NFL’s most productive bunch of the millennium.

The 15 Hurricanes tight ends drafted in the millennium rank second behind Notre Dame’s 16. The Miami group went to the most Pro Bowls (17 vs. 11 second place alumni group), spent the most years as primary starter (50 vs. 40 second place), and caught the most passes (3,370 vs. 2657 second place), racked up the most receiving yards (37,667 vs. 30,383 second place), and hauled in the most touchdowns (298 vs. 211 second place).

ESPN revived its Position U series in 2019 and ran it until 2023, this time looking back to the beginning of the BCS era in 1998 through modern times.

In 2019, ESPN wrote: “Miami has so many big names and impact players at the position, it’s hard to deny the program the top spot.”15

In 2020: “No position (aside from kicker) is more clear-cut than tight end, where Miami is hands down the best producer of talent in college football.”16

In 2021: ESPN named the Hurricanes’ Tight End Mount Rushmore: Shockey, Olsen, Franks, and Graham.17

In 2022: “Miami’s position as Tight End U isn’t in doubt for the foreseeable future.”18

In 2023: “It’s absurd that people attempt to make the case for anyone else as tight end U. Miami isn’t just a clear-cut No. 1. The Hurricanes are tops by a country mile (or an Everglades mile, if you will).”19

Miami is still Tight End U. And it’s still not close.

One of every six touchdowns scoring during Miami’s 149-week NFL touchdown streak went to a tight end. Remove those 107 touchdowns and it takes a considerable bite from the total of 668.

But The Streak holds up remarkably well without the tight ends.

First, it’s no longer 149 weeks. Franks saved The Streak in just its seventh week (chronicled in Chapter 3), and later Shockey was the sole Hurricane to score in Week 1 of the 2005 season.

Without the tight ends, The Streak would begin Week 2 2005 and end Week 10 2011. A 111-week streak. Still longer than any other program in that era. Purdue alumni are closest with 73 consecutive weeks with an NFL touchdown.

And if you remove the 107 NFL touchdowns scored by Miami tight ends during The Streak, you’re left with 561. That’s still more touchdowns than the alumni group in second, Tennessee with 558 NFL touchdowns.

It’s a stunning testament to the depth of Miami’s talent that we can remove its third-most productive position group and Hurricanes alums still outperform every other alumni group.

Maybe Miami’s not just Tight End U.

There’s more to this story. Next up: Chapter 5: September 19, 2005

Bubba Franks found something unfamiliar as he broke out of his stance with seconds left in the fourth quarter: nothing.

No defensive backs, no linebackers. Nothing but empty space between him and the goal line. Surely, by now, defenses knew better.

In the three years since the Packers selected Franks in the first round of the 2000 NFL Draft out of the University of Miami, he’d emerged as quarterback Brett Favre’s favorite red zone target. He caught 17 touchdown passes in his first three seasons, all but one in the red zone, and all but one of those 10 yards or fewer.

When the Packers sniffed the end zone, Favre looked for Franks. But on September 21, 2003, second down with seconds left in the game and the Packers down a touchdown, he didn’t.

Favre took the snap from the shotgun. Franks jumped and waved his arms as he crossed uncovered into the end zone. If Favre would just glance to his left towards a wide-open Franks, the Packers would surely tie the game. But Favre rolled right, hopped the pass incomplete, and threw a pick on the next play. The Packers lost.

Franks never found the end zone in Week 3 of the 2003 season, but four other Miami alums did.

Vinny Testaverde threw a 29-yard touchdown pass in an ill-fated comeback bid against the Patriots. Reggie Wayne had a career day as quarterback Peyton Manning’s favorite target, catching 10 of 13 targets for 141 yards and two touchdowns. And rookie Andre Johnson caught his first two NFL touchdowns. Even defensive tackle Warren Sapp found the end zone when the Tampa Bay Buccaneers trotted him out at tight end in the second quarter.

The Hurricanes were blossoming in the NFL. The players who’d shouldered the burden of the sanctions years and the rebuild that followed had emerged as central figures on their respective professional teams. They were Pro Bowlers, NFL award winners, and All-Pros.

And they were scoring touchdowns. Lots of them.

Thirteen Miami Hurricanes had scored 31 NFL touchdowns since The Streak began just six regular season weeks ago. Even defenders were scoring. Kenny Holmes in Week 1 of 2003, Phillip Buchanon and Ed Reed in Week 2, and Sapp in Week 3.

But in Week 4 2003, missed scoring opportunities were the story.

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Sunday, September 28, 2003, 1:00 PM ET

Down a field goal midway through the fourth quarter, Houston Texans quarterback David Carr did what he’d quickly learned to do when he needed to move the ball: he looked for Andre Johnson.

The rookie Johnson had amassed 249 receiving yards in his first three NFL games, the second most to start a career since 1987.

And so with under eight minutes to play in Houston’s Week 4 matchup against the division-rival Jacksonville Jaguars, Carr looked for Johnson. An eight-yard completion. Then nine yards. Then 19. And four on the play after that.

The Texans were on the precipice of the red zone when running back Stacey Mack attempted a halfback pass to a double-covered Johnson near the end zone. Intercepted.

The Texans defense forced a fumble a few plays later to give the offense another shot. Six plays later, they arrived on the Jaguars four yard line. A penalty moved them to the Jacksonville two. Six feet. A body length away from the win and 30 seconds to get there.

Carr looked for Johnson in the end zone. Incomplete. But Johnson drew a defensive pass interference call. Half the distance to the goal. First down at the Jaguars one.

Only 16 seconds left now. A running play. No gain. Timeout Texans.

Nine seconds. Carr again looked for Johnson in the end zone. It bounced off his finger tips.

Two seconds. Carr snuck it in for the touchdown. Time expired. Texans win. Johnson caught eight passes for 97 yards. But no touchdowns.

MIAMI ALUMNI NFL TOUCHDOWNS IN WEEK 4 2003: ZERO

Somewhere, in some place and time, there’s a reality in which Bubba Franks is a defensive end for the Texas Longhorns.

Franks was a big, two-way high school player from West Texas in the mid-1990s who specialized in making the game unfair for the average-sized teenagers tasked with guarding him.

When he lined up at tight end, defensive backs needed “a ladder and a dad-gum net”1 to defend him. When he lined up at defensive end, offensive linemen fared no better keeping his 6’6”, 230-pound frame out of the backfield.

Franks was a unanimous all-district tight end his junior and senior seasons at Big Spring High School and a first-team defensive end his senior year.2 But few teams outside of Texas had heard of him as he began his senior season. And if you asked him, he’d probably have told you that even they didn’t truly know him.

Texas A&M wanted him to play defense. So did Texas. So he made it clear: “Tight end is my strong position.”3

For a long time, only TCU believed him. “TCU never told anyone about him,” said Dwight Butler, Franks’ coach at Big Spring. “They thought they were going to sneak away with him.”4

The Miami Hurricanes were about to believe him too. And lucky for them. Because without Franks, Miami doesn’t sign the tight ends who’d prove crucial to their next national title runs.

Sunday, September 28, 2003, 4:15 PM ET

Ed Reed timed his move perfectly.

The Baltimore Ravens defense faced a 3rd and 5 near the end of the second quarter, and the visiting Kansas City Chiefs were in the red zone.

Reed inched towards the line of scrimmage. Then a tad more. The quarterback looked away. Reed picked up his pace.

The center snapped the ball and Reed sprinted past the tackle. The running back didn’t pick him up. The quarterback didn’t see him.

Reed leveled Trent Green and jarred the ball loose. Ray Lewis raced towards the football, just daylight between him, the ball, and the end zone…

…except for Chiefs tight end Jason Dunn, who was a step closer and recovered the ball. Lewis took him down for a 12-yard loss.

The end zone was a strong possibility had Lewis beat Dunn to the ball. Sure, it was 70 yards away, but he would’ve had a couple of blockers, including fellow Miami alum Reed, who’d famously “assisted” on a fumble return for a touchdown at the University of Miami.

The Ravens lost, and the game ended without a touchdown from the duo of Hurricanes defenders.

MIAMI ALUMNI NFL TOUCHDOWNS IN WEEK 4 2003: ZERO

Miami discovered Franks completely by accident.

Sometime in 1995, Hurricanes recruiting coordinator Pete Garcia traveled to West Texas to recruit a kicker at Midland High School. As he spoke with the Midland coaches, they mentioned a kid at nearby Big Spring and convinced Garcia to take a look at him. So he did.5

He called Butler, Franks’ high school coach, from the airport and asked him to send him some of Franks’ film. As he watched the film back in Coral Gables, he was convinced he’d found another “diamond in the oil patch,” as a local paper called Franks.6

“We take a lot of pride in finding a couple of those guys every year that fell through the cracks,” Garcia said7, harkening back to the days when Miami would land overlooked players like Russell Maryland who’d turn into starters, All-Americans, first-round draft picks, and, eventually, Pro Bowlers.

Soon, Miami head coach Butch Davis flew with Garcia to West Texas, this time to meet Franks.

Franks’ wish list was clear. He wanted to play on television. He wanted to play on grass. And he wanted to play tight end.8

Miami checked all the boxes. The Hurricanes, despite facing NCAA sanctions, were a big TV draw. The Orange Bowl was grass. And the Hurricanes saw Franks as a tight end.

He visited the campus in January 1996, verbally committed two days later.9

Franks would be a Hurricane.

Sunday, September 28, 2003, 4:15 PM ET

Jets receiver Santana Moss had gotten off to a rough start. His first catch of the afternoon came just as the second quarter began, a short two-yarder from fellow Miami alum Vinny Testaverde that Moss fumbled away.

As the second quarter neared its end, the Jets lined up in a tight formation from their own 32 yard line. Moss took his spot on the outside.

As the ball snapped, he streaked down the sideline, maybe a half-step ahead of rookie defender Terrence Newman. He snatched a 38-yard pass nearly in stride, held it against his facemask to steady it before hauling it in, but stumbled as he did and fell to the ground.

A fantastic catch on a pretty touch throw from Testaverde.

Testaverde found Moss again on the very next play, a light lob that Moss had to fight off Newman to bring in. An 11-yard gain for another first down. Curtis Martin fumbled the next play, ending the Jets’ drive.

Moss hauled in just two more passes the rest of the afternoon. No touchdowns.

MIAMI ALUMNI NFL TOUCHDOWNS IN WEEK 4 2003: ZERO

“The one thing that just jumped out at you from the first day he came here were his hands,” tight ends coach Chudzinski would say of Franks a few years later.

“He had the ability to catch the ball, whether it was one-handed catches, high or low.”10 Those catches entrenched Franks in Hurricanes lore.

There was his first career touchdown reception in the back of the end zone. The one-handed catch against Ohio State. The game-tying touchdown catch against Boston College. Another one-hander against West Virginia. The touchdown grab off a tip against Syracuse.

By his junior season, the nation was fawning for the once-overlooked Franks. He was “one of 10 players the NFL wants now,” wrote Sports Illustrated.11 A “quarterback’s dream,” according to the Associated Press.12 Former NFL scout Gil Brand, then of ESPN, one-upped all of them. Franks, he said, was Hall of Famer Kellen Winslow Sr., a young Tony Gonzalez, and all the other great tight ends, “all rolled into one.”13

Franks caught 45 passes for 565 yards and five touchdowns his junior season. He was first-team All-Big East for the second year and, for the first time, a first-team All-American. And while prospects for 2000 looked good for the Hurricanes, Franks had the NFL’s attention.

He entered the 2000 NFL Draft where the Green Bay Packers selected him with the 14th pick of the first round.

Sunday, September 28, 2003, 8:15 PM ET

It didn’t take long for Peyton Manning to get going on Sunday night.

He hit running back Ricky A. Williams, who was getting more playing time with Edgerrin James out for the night, for a 17-yard touchdown just a few minutes into the game.

Colts 7, Saints 0. One touchdown for Manning. None for his favorite target from the week before, Reggie Wayne.

Then he threw two more touchdowns before the half, both to Harrison, to put Indianapolis up by three scores.

Colts 21, Saints 0. Three touchdowns for Manning. None for Wayne.

Manning kept at it, finding Dominic Rhodes, another Colts running back seeing more time with James out, for a 12-yard touchdown.

Colts 34, Saints 10. Four touchdowns for Manning. None for Wayne.

Then Manning hit Harrison again, this time for a 32-yard touchdown pass towards the end of the third quarter.

Colts 41, Saints 13. Five touchdowns for Manning. None for Wayne.

Finally, Manning hit Dallas Clark for an 11-yard touchdown with four seconds to go in the third quarter.

Colts 48, Saints 13. Six touchdowns for Manning. None for Wayne.

Wayne caught all three passes Manning threw his way that night, collecting 26 receiving yards. But none of Manning’s six touchdown passes on Sunday night - one away from an NFL record that he’d tie a decade later - went to Wayne.

MIAMI ALUMNI NFL TOUCHDOWNS IN WEEK 4 2003: ZERO

For a few months every summer, football’s currency turns to hope.

In the summer of 2000, Packers fans poured that hope into Franks. So desperate were they for a capable replacement for tight end Mark Chmura that when Franks caught a simple, nothing of a four-yard catch during training camp, all 50,000 of Packers fans who’d come out to Lambeau Field for the open practice roared in excitement.14

In the four years between 1995 and 1998, Chmura caught 17 touchdowns, went to three Pro Bowls, and helped the Packers win Super Bowl XXXI. When a neck injury ended his 1999 season, “Chewy” mulled retirement.1516 When he was arrested the following April, accused of sexually assaulting a 17-year-old girl17 (he was later acquitted18), tight end became the Packers’ obvious draft day need, and Franks their obvious target.

But for all the shine given to Franks that summer, there were cracks too.

He’d blown assignments in minicamp. He made remarkable catches but dropped catchable passes too.1920 Midway through his rookie season, hope for Franks as a dependable red zone target to replace Chmura quieted to a whisper. He caught just six passes for 29 yards through his first three games and averaged 31.3 yards over the next six.

Columnists who months before had penciled Franks in as an instant starter, jubilant in their anticipation for the Favre-Franks magic to come, now lamented the pair’s lack of chemistry. They stopped short of calling him a draft bust so early in the season, but the Packers had “over-reached for Franks,” they wrote.21

So obvious was the pair’s difficulty that Favre couldn’t help dish out a little light ribbing to his rookie tight end. “See if you can run the right route for him, Bubba,” Favre shouted as George W. Bush, then running for president as the governor of Franks’ home state of Texas, tossed Franks a wobbly pass during a campaign stop.22

“See, that’s what I’ve been trying to get him to do,” Favre joked after Franks hauled in the pass.

Monday, September 29, 2003

September 28, 2003 was over. No Hurricanes touchdowns. The Streak faced its end before anybody knew it existed.

But Monday Night Football loomed. Chicago Bears vs. Green Bay Packers, and a trio of Hurricanes called Green Bay home in 2003. Franks shared the Packers roster with fellow UM alums Najeh Davenport and Nick Luchey.

The Packers selected Davenport in the fourth round of the 2002 NFL Draft. He’d have one of his most productive seasons in 2003, averaging 5.5 yards per attempt, tied with fellow Miami alum Clinton Portis for the league lead among running backs with at least 75 carries.

But a nagging hamstring injury would keep him out of the Week 4 Monday Night Football matchup.

Luchey joined the Packers in the offseason after four seasons with the Cincinnati Bengals, who selected him in the fifth round of the 1999 NFL Draft out of Miami (he was known as Nick Williams while at Miami).

Luchey had been inactive the previous two games. He was active heading into Week 4, but he wouldn’t see much time in the backfield.

It was up to Bubba Franks.

Franks’ beleaguered rookie season had shown flashes of hope.

He outperformed his competition, Davis, whose 44.4% catch percentage and 4.5 yards per target trailed Franks’ 61.8% and 6.6, respectively.

“He’s been like most rookies,” said Tom Donahoe, an ESPN analyst and former NFL general manager. “They usually catch the ball all week in practice and they can’t catch it in the games.”23

Franks’ sophomore campaign in 2001 was an entirely different story. He caught a touchdown pass in each of the Packers’ first three games, finished the year with nine, and earned his first trip to the Pro Bowl.

And his seven touchdowns the following year were tops among NFC tight ends and his 54 receptions were second (fellow Miami alum Jeremy Shockey, a rookie in 2002, led the NFC with 74 receptions). Franks even threw a 31-yard touchdown pass on his way to his second Pro Bowl season.

As training camp got underway ahead of the 2003 season, hopes were high for the Packers’ now-fourth-year tight end.

“After being named a Pro Bowl starter in each of the last two seasons, Packers tight end Bubba Franks will be looking to continue to solidify himself as one of the NFL’s premier tight ends.”24

Franks would again make the Pro Bowl in the 2003 season, but after its first three weeks, he had yet to find the end zone. It’s not that Favre wasn’t looking for him. Six targets in Week 1 became three receptions for 18 yards. Three in Week 2 became two receptions for 21 yards.

The loss in Week 3 bore more of the same frustration. Favre targeted Franks six times, including twice on the final drive that became the goal line fiasco. He caught three of them for 22 yards.

The 2003 campaign would be his lightest statistical effort since his rookie season. He’d end the year with 30 receptions on 44 targets for 241 yards, all career lows thus far.

He’d surpass only his rookie season with four touchdown receptions in 2003. But his first was a big one.

Monday Night Football, September 29, 2003, 9 PM ET

Packers-Bears is always a spectacle. But this one carried extra oomph for both sides.

The Packers hoped to avoid slipping further below .500 so early in the season. The Bears hoped their grand reveal of the renovated Soldier Field would net their first win of the season.

Running back Ahman Green put the Packers up 7-0 on a 60-yard run less than three minutes into the Monday night matchup.

A few possessions later, the Packers took over at the Bears’ 20 yard line, and Favre immediately looked for Franks. He hit him for a 14-yard gain, putting Green Bay in a first-and-goal at the six. Prime Franks territory. But the Packers ran it the next play and Green scored again.

Favre added a touchdown pass to fullback William Henderson not long before the half, sending the Packers into the locker room with a 24-6 halftime lead.

One half of football left. No Hurricanes touchdowns. The Streak, nascent and yet unknown, dangling precariously in the balance.

The Bears narrowed Green Bay’s lead to just eight points in the fourth quarter, but Favre’s touchdown pass to Javon Walker on the following drive put the Packers up two scores again.

It also removed much of Green Bay’s motivation to throw the ball. Make Chicago use its timeouts, get the win, and play spoiler to Soldier Field’s big re-reveal, right?

But this was Brett Favre. The Gunslinger. Third most passing attempts in NFL history. He was throwing.

Favre hadn’t looked Franks’ way since that 14-yard reception in the first quarter. Now, on its next possession, third and two at the Chicago 46, with absolutely no reason to throw the ball, he finally looked Franks’ way again. A 24-yard gain that put the Packers just outside the red zone. A couple Green rushes later, the Bears took their second timeout, stopping the clock with 4:31 left in the game.

Third down and six yards to go from the 18 yard line. Well within field goal range. Run the ball and you’ll either get a first down or settle for the field goal on fourth down to go up three scores. But Favre had eyes for the end zone. He lined up in the shotgun and lobbed it…

…to a double-covered Donald Driver. It fell incomplete. Fourth down. Field goal time. The Streak done for.

But then a flag. A pass interference call on cornerback Charles Tillman who seemed to barely touch Walker. “A little picky,” observed color commentator John Madden.

Now it was first down from the Chicago one yard line. With just 4:21 left, Franks again found himself wide open in the end zone. This time, Favre found him.

Favre completed his third touchdown pass of the night, an easy one-yard toss to Franks.

The final minutes of the final quarter of the final game of the week.

A 15-point lead. A third-and-six in field goal range. No incentive to throw the ball. But a pass into the end zone. Incomplete.

A questionable pass interference call makes it first and goal from the one. Still no incentive to throw. But, again, a pass.

To a once-again-inexplicatly-wide-open Franks. Touchdown. Soldier Field emptied, its re-reveal ruined. Packers win.

And The Streak lives. Just barely.

MIAMI ALUMNI NFL TOUCHDOWNS IN WEEK 4 2003: ONE

Garcia, the Hurricanes recruiting coordinator, never landed that kicker he’d gone to see in West Texas back in 1995. David Leaverton chose Tennessee25 and would win a national title with the Volunteers a few years later.

Franks left Miami a couple years shy of the Hurricanes’ fifth national title, but his legacy resonates more than two decades later.

The kid who most programs insisted play defensive end?

He invented Tight End U.

There’s more to this story. Next up: Chapter 4: Tight End U

Part of the series 149 Weeks: Why the Miami Hurricanes Were the NFL’s Best Team of the 2000s

Between Week 15 of the 2002 NFL season and Week 10 of the 2011 NFL season, at least one Miami Hurricane alumnus scored at least one touchdown in every NFL regular season week.

To most, The Streak is a neat anecdote. Trivia. A fragment of pride during a 20-year stint in the college football wilderness. It spanned eight years, 10 months, and 29 days. Most of the 2000s. More than a two-term president.

But if you really think about it. If you dissect The Streak. If you boil it down to its component parts, like the volume of touchdowns scored, the consistency with which they were scored, and their dispersion across the Miami alumni group…

The Streak is the most impressive thing the University of Miami football program has ever done.

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Priming The Streak

Before dissecting The Streak, it’s worth asking…

How?

How did University of Miami alumni manage not merely more touchdowns than other alumni groups, but nearly 20% more than the second-most prolific group?

How did Miami alums manage not merely a longer consecutive touchdown streak, but a streak more than double the second longest during the time span.

What forces converged to enable such a maelstrom of touchdowns?

The answer’s not very interesting.

Miami had more talent. More in both quantity and quality.

Butch Davis arrived in Coral Gables as its new head coach just days before National Signing Day in 1995. His task: keep the program from bursting at its seams.

Miami was fresh off a national title game appearance (a loss to Nebraska in the 1995 Orange Bowl) but lumbering toward NCAA sanctions expected to knee-cap the program. Some even wanted it killed.1

The Pell Grant scandal, in which an athletic department employee helped athletes falsify federal grant applications, had hung over the program since the story broke in June 1991. With a years-long NCAA investigation expected to resolve, sanctions and scholarship reductions looming, and a head coaching vacancy so close to signing day, recruits in 1995 were wary of joining the Hurricanes.

“I was recruited hard by UM and [assistant] Coach [Randy] Shannon,” defensive lineman and future sixth overall pick Corey Simon told the Miami Herald, “but there were all the coaching problems in addition to the possible violations, and I just didn’t want to get caught up in that situation.”

Davis served as Jimmy Johnson’s defensive line coach and recruiting coordinator in the 1980s and was a big reason Miami gathered the talent that fueled its most dominant era.

Fifteen Miami Hurricanes became first-round draft picks between 1982 and 1992, and Davis recruited or coached many of them. Cortez Kennedy went to six Pro Bowls, Jerome Brown went to two before his tragic passing, and Jessie Armstead, whom Davis watched choose the Hurricanes in the very first “pick a hat” announcement2, went to five.

And yet, somehow, the collective talent Miami produced in that era falls short of the talent Davis collected a decade later, even in the midst of NCAA-mandated scholarship reductions.

Davis cobbled together a respectable class in his measly one-week recruiting window in 1995. He also signed Duane Starks, a future first-round draft pick, and even flipped top recruit Magic Benton from Florida State.

The next year, the first in which NCAA sanctions halved Miami’s available scholarships, Davis signed future NFL first-round picks Bubba Franks, Edgerrin James, and Damione Lewis. He followed that up with Ed Reed, Reggie Wayne, and Dan Morgan in 1997. Santana Moss also enrolled in 1997 on a track scholarship and walked onto the football team; Davis awarded him the team’s final scholarship ahead of the season.

Year after year, despite the stink and restraint of NCAA sanctions, Davis stocked the program with talent reminiscent of the teams a decade prior.

His efforts culminated in 2000 as Davis’ Hurricanes defeated #1 Florida State for the first time in his five-year tenure, then beat #2 Virginia Tech and climbed to #2 in the AP and Coaches Polls.

Miami finished the 2000 season with the second-best offense by points scored (42.6) and fifth-best defense by points allowed (15.5). They’d defeated FSU, ranked #3 in the final polls, but the BCS computers, their rickety vacuum tubes devoid of logic as well as air, dinged the one-loss Hurricanes for an early-season loss to Washington and bizarrely deprived Miami a shot at the national title.3 But that’s a story for another time.

Davis accepted the head coaching position of the Cleveland Browns after the season and left Miami, its cupboards once again abundant.

Some call the 2001 Miami Hurricanes the greatest college football team of all time. Skim the roster and you might agree.456

Imagine this backfield: Clinton Portis, Willis McGahee, Frank Gore, Najeh Davenport.

And these pass-catchers: Andre Johnson, Jeremy Shockey, Kellen Winslow II, Roscoe Parrish.

And this offensive line: Bryant McKinnie, Vernon Carey, Brett Romberg, Chris Myers

And this secondary: Ed Reed, Sean Taylor, Antrel Rolle, Mike Rumph, Phillip Buchanon.

And this linebacker corps: D.J. Williams, Jonathan Vilma, Rocky McIntosh.

And this defensive line: Vince Wilfork, Jerome McDougle, William Joseph.

The talent, the depth. It’s jaw-dropping, the culmination of years of recruiting prowess, roster-wide buy-in, and the player development that again turned Miami into an NFL pipeline.

That 2001 roster produced 38 NFL draft picks, 17 of them first-rounders. If you recall, Miami produced 15 first-rounders in the program’s most successful era, between 1982 and 1992. Now, from one roster, 17 first-rounders.

Between 1999 and 2011, 48 Hurricanes were selected in the first three rounds of the NFL Draft, more than any other program during that span. And of those 48 players, more than half were first-round picks, also more than any other program.

That’s where Miami stands apart.

The Hurricanes sent lots of players into the NFL. When The Streak began in Week 15 2002, there were 31 active Miami alums on NFL rosters, sixth among college programs. When it ended in Week 10 2011, there were 36, second among college programs.

But Miami stands apart not for the number of players it sent to the NFL. It stands out for its outsized proportion of top-caliber players in this era. Players who’d leave an indelible mark on the NFL, nine of them among the NFL’s all-time touchdown scorers, four of them already Hall of Famers.

The Streak was inevitable.

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The Streak in Six Charts

We love streaks, especially in sports. We rank sports’ greatest streaks. We chronicle them in film, legendary and obscure alike. We write books that send them off into prosperity, and we share them with our kids.

The mythical streaks get the proper noun treatment. Because why would we call them anything but “The Streak”? Dig into the 149 weeks comprising Miami’s streak and you’ll grow to appreciate why it earns its proper noun.

A theme of The Streak is margin. Not just victory but margin of victory.

The Miami Hurricanes of the 2000s era NFL were collectively comparable only to the likes of Tiger Woods, Michael Phelps, and Usain Bolt in superiority over the field.

It’s Woods winning the 2000 U.S. Open by a record 15 strokes in an otherwise tight tournament.7 It’s Phelps breaking world records a body length ahead of his closest competitors. It’s Bolt winning the 100 meters gold a full stride ahead of the field.

The talent to score at a volume far surpassing that of every other alumni group. The consistency to do it every week for nearly nine years. And the dispersion of talent that made The Streak inevitable.

It’s difficult to put it into words. So let’s put it into charts.

Volume

Volume usually accompanies a lengthy streak. Do something every day, and you’re bound to do it a lot.

Joe DiMaggio had 91 total hits during his 56-game hitting streak in 1941, 19 more than the 72 hit by Lou Finney and Terry Moore over the same span.

Wilt Chamberlain holds the record for most consecutive NBA games with at least 30 points, hitting that mark 65 times between November 4, 1961 and February 22, 1962. His 3,260 points during that span were about 1,300 more than those scored by the second-highest scorer, Walt Bellamy.

Chart 1: Touchdowns by Hurricanes

The Miami Hurricanes alumni group scored at least one NFL touchdown for 149 consecutive weeks between Week 15 2002 and Week 10 2011. And more than one touchdown in 139 of those weeks. Six-hundred sixty-eight (668) touchdowns in all.

In all, 35 Hurricanes contributed at least one touchdown to The Streak. Clinton Portis led with 73, then Reggie Wayne (68), Willis McGahee (63), Santana Moss (53), and Andre Johnson (52).

Chart 2: Touchdowns Relative to Miami

The Tennessee alumni group produced the second-most NFL touchdowns during the 149-week span comprising Miami’s streak with 558. They were followed by Michigan with 521, USC with 487, and Purdue with 381.

Take a look at the range plot above. Those are the 20 alumni groups that produced the most NFL touchdowns during Miami’s streak. The Hurricanes are a remote island, a few alumni groups inch closer but remain miles away.

Not just victory, but margin of victory.

Miami alumni scored 16.5% more touchdowns than Tennessee alumni, 22.0% more than Michigan alumni, 27.1% more than USC alumni, 43.0% more than Purdue alumni, and nearly double the touchdowns of Virginia alumni.

All the more remarkable, aside from Miami, the top alumni groups during this period were led by a prolific, usually Hall of Fame, passer. (Just wait until we remove the passing touchdowns from the analysis. But that’s Chapter 8.)

Chart 3: Touchdowns by Week

Miami didn’t need a prolific passer. That’s because The Streak didn’t slink along, one Hurricane scoring this week and another the next. Miami alums scored in bunches.

The week after Portis and Kenny Holmes kicked off The Streak in Week 15 2002 with five touchdowns between them, four Hurricanes combined for six touchdowns in Week 16. Four combined for five touchdowns in Week 17. Two combined for three touchdowns to start the 2003 season. Six combined for six touchdowns in Week 2. And then four combined for six touchdowns in Week 3.

It wasn’t until the sixth week of The Streak, Week 4 2003, that only a single Hurricane scored an NFL touchdown. And that was a nail-biter, but more on that in Chapter 3.

Combined, Hurricanes alumni averaged 4.5 NFL touchdowns per week during the 149 weeks comprising The Streak, nearly a full touchdown more than the 3.7 touchdowns per week averaged by Tennessee, and about two full touchdowns more per week than Purdue and Virginia alums.

Consistency

Consistency is the hallmark of any streak. Its definition, really. To do every day what most are capable of doing only occasionally or, at best, merely most days.

For Wayne Gretzky to earn a point in 51 consecutive NHL games, a mark not approached for decades. For Jerry Rice to catch at least one pass in 274 consecutive NFL games, nearly 20 games more than the closest challenger.

For Miami Hurricanes alums to score at least one NFL touchdown every week…for nearly nine years.

Chart 4: Consecutive Weeks With a Touchdown

Other alumni groups scored with similar regularity. In the 149 weeks comprising Miami’s streak, Tennessee alums scored a touchdown in 146 of them, Michigan alums in 140, USC alums in 135, Virginia alums in 133, and Purdue alums in 132.

But no alumni group remotely challenged Miami’s consecutive streak.

Tennessee’s longest NFL touchdown streak during this period was 52 weeks. It ended in Week 16 2005 as the Indianapolis Colts rested Peyton Manning ahead of the playoffs.

Michigan’s longest was 46 weeks. It ended Week 6 2006 when Tom Brady and his New England Patriots were on a bye week.

Purdue’s longest was 73. It ended the same day as Miami’s streak, in Week 11 2011. Drew Brees and the New Orleans Saints were on a bye that week.

When the big fish sat, other alumni from those programs scored far less reliably.

Chart 5: Touchdowns by Alumni by Week

Miami didn’t have that problem. Because in the 2000s era NFL, Miami Hurricanes were everywhere.

Jeremy Shockey on a bye week? No worries, we’ve got plenty of tight ends: Bubba Franks, Kellen Winslow II, Greg Olsen, Jimmy Graham. (More on Tight End U in Chapter 4.)

Willis McGahee sitting out his rookie season with an injury? Don’t sweat. Clinton Portis and Edgerrin James were each top ten in rushing touchdowns that year.

Offensive players not feeling it this week? All good. About a third of the Hurricanes who scored touchdowns during The Streak were defenders. In fact, Ed Reed’s 107-yard interception return for a touchdown in Week 12 2008 kept The Streak alive; he was the only Hurricanes alum to score a touchdown in the NFL that week.

Collective consistency only works if there’s plenty of players contributing. And there were plenty of Miami Hurricanes scoring every week during The Streak.

An average of 3.62 Hurricanes scored every week, a full player more than Tennessee’s 2.37 players per week. Michigan averaged 2.26, USC 2.13, and Purdue 1.38.

It took a myriad of bad luck to end Miami’s 149-week streak. Injuries. Bye weeks. ‘Cane-on-’Cane offensive pass interference in the end zone. But more on that in Chapter 11.

Dispersion

If consistency is the very definition of a streak and volume often follows naturally, depth is what gives this particular streak its nuance. And Miami’s talent ran deep.

Chart 6: Top Scorers’ Share of Totals

Touchdowns by Miami alumni were fairly evenly dispersed compared to the touchdown dispersion among other alumni groups.

Miami’s max share was 10.93%. Max share simply means the percentage of the whole contributed by its largest part. In this case, Portis’s 73 touchdowns comprised 10.93% of Miami’s 668 total touchdowns.

Manning accounts for 49.28% of Tennessee alumni’s NFL touchdowns. Brady accounts for 47.41% of Michigan’s, Carson Palmer accounts for 33.68% of USC’s, and Brees accounts for 66.14% of Purdue’s.

Miami’s max share was not only lowest among the most prolific alumni groups. It was lowest among all alumni groups. Next is Ohio State (12.70%), Florida (14.85%), and Notre Dame (16.58%), whose alumni scored less than half of the touchdowns as Miami alumni.

The Greatest NFL Team of the 2000s

The prevailing thesis of the 149 Weeks series is that the University of Miami was the 2000s’ most consequential college football program. It states with a wink that the Hurricanes were the NFL’s best team of the era.

Maybe we don’t need the wink.

The Hurricanes were an institution in the NFL during the 2000s. Hurricanes alums called out “The U” in their primetime player introductions, and they’ve often spoken of their shared brotherhood.8

Miami didn’t produce the era’s best quarterback (Peyton Manning, Tom Brady, Drew Brees), running back (LaDainian Tomlinson), wide receiver (Randy Moss, Terrell Owens, Larry Fitzgerald), or even tight end (Tony Gonzalez, Antonio Gates). You might argue it did produce the era’s best linebacker (Ray Lewis) and safety (Ed Reed), but it’s not about a single player.

It’s not about the consistency of consecutive weeks or the volume of touchdowns either. It’s not even about the margin by which Miami surpassed other alumni groups in touchdowns or any other metric, although those margins tell a helluva story.

The depth of the Hurricanes’ talent is why The Streak is the most impressive thing the University of Miami has ever done.

It wasn’t one or two Hurricanes scoring all those touchdowns. It was 35 of them, nearly half with double-digit touchdowns.

Here’s one more chart.

Chart 7: Coefficient of Variation

It shows the coefficient of variation (vertical axis) of touchdowns scored by each of the top ten touchdown-scoring alumni groups.

Coefficient of variation is a measure of dispersion. Like standard deviation, it measures how much your data points vary one to the next. But unlike standard deviation, which is an absolute measure of dispersion from the mean (i.e., in our case, average touchdowns per player), COV is a relative measure of dispersion, which lets us compare datasets with vastly different means, as is the case here.

A low coefficient of variation indicates less relative variability. In other words, the alumni’s touchdown totals are closer together.

Look at Miami. Its coefficient of variation was 115.33%. Now look at Tennessee, Michigan, USC, and Purdue. Coefficients of variation of 237.92%, 259.55%, 210.75%, and 269.69%, respectively. Each more than double that of Miami.

If you want a metric that says Miami was an unrivaled producer of NFL talent in the 2000s, that’s it.

Why? The peaks created by those prolific quarterbacks (Manning, Brady, Brees, Palmer, Aaron Rodgers, Brett Favre, you name ‘em) are massive, and that introduces tremendous variability in their alumni groups’ respective datasets. It also dulls the shine of those alumni groups’ overall total touchdowns.

Let’s say Vinny Testaverde threw all 668 of Miami’s touchdowns. We’d never claim Miami as an unrivaled producer of NFL talent or the most consequential program of the era based solely on a single contributor. He’d be a fluke. A fluke who’d be the game’s greatest passer, but a fluke nonetheless, not indicative of the Miami program’s importance.

The same goes for Tennessee, Michigan, USC, and Purdue. A single player contributed a large plurality, or in Purdue’s case a majority, of those alumni groups’ NFL touchdowns. They’re flukes relative to the rest of their schools’ alumni. We wouldn’t call Tennessee the most consequential program of the era because it produced Peyton Manning, would we?

Harken back to max share for a moment. Peyton Manning’s share of the Tennessee alumni group’s total was 49.28%. His 275 touchdowns dwarfed that of the second most prolific Volunteers alum during the span, Jamal Lewis with 49.

Hence, the Tennessee alumni group’s COV is more than double that of Miami, whose most prolific touchdown scorer produced just 10.93% of Miami’s total. Clinton Portis’ 73 touchdowns were only five more than the next highest Hurricanes alum, Reggie Wayne with 68.

Take Manning’s 275 touchdowns out of the picture and Tennessee’s COV drop precipitously. It’s 109.37%. But Tennessee’s left with just 283 touchdowns.

It’s the same story for the other most prolific alumni groups. Remove Tom Brady’s 247 touchdowns from Michigan’s total, and its COV drops to 130.00% but its touchdowns drop to 274.

Now do that with Miami. Remove Portis’ 73 touchdowns, and Miami’s COV actually rises to 115.81%. Its touchdowns remain high, 595, and still exceed the Tennessee alumni group at full power (558).

Again, not just victory, but margin of victory.

Do you want to know what’s even wilder?

You’ll get to the 19th most prolific alumni group (Oregon State with 250 touchdowns) before you find a COV lower than Miami’s 115.33%, and that alumni group had just 37% of the total touchdowns as Miami. Even when compared to alumni groups with more “normal” touchdown totals (not the aberration that Miami’s 668 represented), Miami’s touchdown dispersion was more balanced.

Volume. Consistency. Dispersion. Other alumni groups might’ve managed one or two of them, but never all three, and never at Miami’s scale.

It’s why The Streak happened. A ‘Canes thing if there ever was one.

There’s more to this story. Next up: Chapter 3: September 28, 2003

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Part of the series 149 Weeks: Why the Miami Hurricanes Were the NFL’s Best Team of the 2000s

Clinton Portis woke up with the flu.

Nauseated, legs weak, and a game to play in a few hours.1

And what a bad time for it. His Denver Broncos were floundering. Just a month ago, Denver was 7-3 and tied for the lead in the AFC West. Then came an overtime loss. Then another. And then a late interception at the goal line. Three consecutive losses.

By mid-December, Denver was 7-6 and tied for last in the AFC West, the season just about squandered into mediocrity.

As the Broncos were watching a once-promising season slip away, the Kansas City Chiefs were salvaging theirs. The Broncos had dropped the Chiefs to 3-4 back in Week 7, but the Chiefs had since won four of their last six games.

“Both are clinging to hope,” the Associated Press wrote of the Broncos and Chiefs ahead of their Week 15 matchup, “knowing a loss will leave them home for the playoffs.”2

Portis kept his illness to himself. He got ready, headed to the stadium, and began warming up.

It must be hell playing running back in the NFL. It’s the running back’s job to run directly at some of the largest people on earth, somehow get through or around them, and then outrun some of the fastest people on earth. And when they’re not doing that, they’re running into and blocking those same very large people. The position places impossible demands on those who play it.

Today, Portis faced those impossible demands with a body weakened by the flu. He’d barely eat before the game, nearly vomit during it, and sit alone in the tunnel as the game ended, physically and metaphorically too sick to watch the Chiefs attempt to tie the game in its waning seconds.

But before he’d do all those things, he’d have to find a way to get out of bed. Maybe he’d of felt better had he known that in just a few hours he’d set an NFL record.

Or that he’d commence one of the most stunning collective achievements in American football history. Although nobody would notice for years.

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It’s often said that the Miami Hurricanes are college football’s greatest program.

Well, maybe not so much in South Bend. Or in Tuscaloosa, Columbus, or Ann Arbor.

But me, my friends, people in South Florida. We say it a lot. Loudly. Annoyingly.

To be fair, we have a pretty good case. The five national titles. The two Heisman Trophy winners. All those first-round draft picks. The three first-overall draft picks. The Hall of Famers, 16 for college football, 11 for pro football, two for both.

And then there’re the names.

Jim Kelly and Vinny Testaverde. Michael Irvin and Jerome Brown. Russell Maryland and Cortez Kennedy. Warren Sapp and Ray Lewis. Edgerrin James and Dan Morgan. Reggie Wayne and Santana Moss. Jeremy Shockey and Ed Reed. Andre Johnson and Willis McGahee. Frank Gore and Greg Olsen. Devin Hester and Jimmy Graham.

Maybe Miami’s the greatest program of all time. Maybe it’s not. But here’s something indisputable: the University of Miami was the greatest college football program of the 2000s.

Nowhere is that more clear than in a singular achievement, accomplished across nearly a decade in places far from the Orange Bowl. Nearly three dozen Hurricanes claim it, the oldest drafted in 1987, the youngest undrafted in 2010. An aberration so massive in scale that it constitutes a statistical epidemic.

It commenced on a December afternoon in Denver.

The Broncos selected Portis in the 2002 NFL Draft out of the University of Miami.

“When I looked around [at the draft],” Portis said of his decision to leave Miami a year early, “I didn’t see anybody who was so much better than me at running back on any other team.”3

His confidence was well earned. He’d started as a true freshman, turning in 147 yards in his first games as a starter, and later that season put together a streak of four consecutive 100-yard games, missing his fifth by just two yards.

A couple years later as a junior, he’d led an impossibly deep Hurricanes backfield (Portis, Frank Gore, Willis McGahee, Najeh Davenport) in rushing with 1,200 yards and 11 touchdowns (10 rushing, one receiving). He was a third-team All-American and won a national title.

Five Miami Hurricanes became first-round picks in that year’s draft: OT Bryant McKinnie (#7), TE Jeremy Shockey (#14), CB Phillip Buchanon (#17), S Ed Reed (#24), CB Mike Rumph (#27).

But Portis wasn’t one of them.

He fell to the second round where the Broncos selected him with the 51^st overall pick, the fourth running back taken after William Green (#16), T.J. Duckett (#18), and Deshaun Foster (#34).

It stung.

“I’m glad to be in Denver,” he said. “But mark my words, everybody else is going to pay. That can be put in the newspaper, on TV, on the radio, I don’t care where. They all should know that they will regret letting me slide. This is motivation.”4

When the coaches asked for the starters on the first day of Denver Broncos training camp, the rookie Portis stepped forward, his competition — veteran Olandis Gary, 2000 rookie of the year Mike Anderson, and future Hall of Famer Terrell Davis — standing next to him. His running backs coach had to pull him back.5

Portis was starting by Week 3.

He “made Broncos fans accept the move of 2000 offensive rookie of the year Mike Anderson to fullback - and forget the loss of Terrell Davis,” wrote the Associated Press, describing his rapid ascent up the Broncos depth chart.6

By Week 15, Portis was a near-lock for that year’s offensive rookie of the year award. Six 100-yard rushing performances, 1,098 yards on the season, and 10 total touchdowns.

He’d quickly add one more.

The Broncos returned the Chiefs’ opening kickoff to their own 21 yard line and quickly racked up a couple of first downs.

Less than three minutes into the game, the Broncos just shy of midfield, Portis lined up behind the fullback in the I-formation. He took the handoff up the middle, broke a tackle, and outran the Chiefs defense 51 yards for his 11^th touchdown of the season.

Touchdown number 12 followed not long after, a three-yard rush at the end of the first quarter to put Denver up 14-0. Then touchdown number 13, midway through the third quarter, putting the Broncos up 21-7. And finally touchdown number 14 near the end of the third quarter, a remarkable run by a guy with the flu who managed a juke, two broken tackles, and a stiff-arm in a single play, 66 yards in all, to put Denver up 28-7.

Portis tied the Denver record for touchdowns in a single game (he broke it a year later) and became the youngest player in NFL history to score four touchdowns in a game (21 years, 105 days).

He finally admitted he was sick after the run.

“I had nothing left, and I almost threw up coming off the field,” he said. “I told the coaches. They asked if I could go back in, and I told them to put Mike (Anderson) in because I didn’t have anything left.”7

But he added 9 yards on three carries in the fourth quarter and finished with 130 rushing yards, 6.2 yards per carry, 3 rushing touchdowns, 75 receiving yards, and a receiving touchdown. His very own “flu game.”

A Chiefs fourth-quarter comeback bid threatened to make Portis’ effort for naught. A touchdown at the end of the third quarter. Another midway through the fourth. And a field goal ahead of the two-minute warning, drawing Kansas City to within a touchdown of the Broncos.

The Chiefs forced a Denver punt on the next possession and reclaimed the ball at their 39 yard line with less than two minutes to go. A 25-yard pass put them in Denver territory.

By now Portis was in the tunnel, too sick to watch and relying on a security guard for updates.8 With five seconds to go from the Denver 30, Chiefs quarterback Trent Green lobbed a pass into a mob of Broncos and Chiefs waiting in the end zone. Jump ball, batted down, incomplete.

The Broncos held on 31-24, finally earning that elusive eighth win of their 2002 season. Playoff hopes alive, just barely.

The Broncos’ fate in the 2002 NFL season is besides the point.

(For what it’s worth, they missed the playoffs. A loss to the Raiders the week after Poritis’ big day did them in.)

Portis’s four touchdowns marked the start of The Streak.

For 149 consecutive NFL regular season weeks, at least one Miami Hurricane would score at least one touchdown. And in all but 10 of those weeks, more than one Miami alumni scored a touchdown, Week 15 2002 included.

Nearly 10 minutes into the New York Giants’ Week 15 matchup with the Dallas Cowboys, Giants linebacker Micheal Barrow, another Hurricanes alum, sacked Cowboys quarterback Chad Hutchinson and jarred the ball loose. Giants defensive end Kenny Holmes, yet another Hurricanes alum, scooped it up and returned it 50 yards for a touchdown, putting the Giants up 14-0.

It was Holmes’ first career touchdown and the fifth touchdown by a Hurricanes alum on the very first day of The Streak. The next week, four Hurricanes alumni scored six touchdowns. The week after, four scored five touchdowns.

So it went, week after week for nearly nine years. Thirty-five players would combine for 668 touchdowns during The Streak.

It’s the most impressive thing the University of Miami football program has ever done.

There’s more to this story. Next up: Chapter 2: The Streak