The Florida Gators football team assembled in a campus meeting room on Dec.

26,
2009, for what was expected to be an ordinary team meeting in preparation for it
s matchup against Cincinnati in the Sugar Bowl. Players were hoping to grab some
per-diem cash and get home to pack for New Orleans. But when the coaching staff
didn't show up for an hour, 300-pounders started squirming in their black cushi
oned chairs.
In a room across the hall, the nation's premier college football program was unr
aveling.
Assistant coaches had just heard news that left them uneasy about their job secu
rity despite assurances from the man with deeply sunken eyes standing before the
m. Defensive coordinator Charlie Strong and defensive backs coach Vance Bedford
pleaded with him not to leave, but they didn't get much of a response beyond a n
od. The plan was in place.
The coaches gathered their thoughts and discussed how the team might handle the
news. Then they entered the room one by one, most with their heads facing the fl
oor and making little eye contact.
The man who moments earlier had tried to reassure his assistants about their fut
ure began speaking to the team at large. Wearing Gators apparel but no longer oo
zing his trademark confidence, he started reading uncomfortably from a sheet of
paper, shoulders slumped slightly and with minimal voice projection.
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His message was all over the place -- from coaching at Bowling Green almost a de
cade earlier to the death of walk-on Michael "Sunshine" Guilford in a 2007 motor
cycle accident. He said his wife and kids missed him.
Urban Meyer, who had been hospitalized weeks earlier after suffering chest pains
in the hours after the Gators' SEC championship loss to Alabama, said he was st
epping down as head coach for health reasons.
"Is he serious?" defensive end Will Green wondered. "Whole room was in disbelief
."
Emotions ranged from shock to panic to anger to skepticism. Just weeks earlier,
Meyer was high-fiving players and making classroom checks. He was earning about
$4 million a year and had won 22 of his past 23 games. Nervous tension filled th
e room. Walk-on Joey Sorrentino spoke to the entire room, telling Meyer he didn'
t have to do this.
The message had no tidy ending, and underclassmen started flooding the nearby ha
llway to call home with the news. Many had thoughts of transferring, and some wo

ndered about the sincerity of Meyer's words.

A day later, when Meyer told the team from the practice field that he had change
d his mind and would remain at Florida, defensive tackle Lawrence Marsh, who des
cribes Meyer as "the master of mind games," wondered whether the coach concocted
the episode as a giant motivational ruse for the upcoming BCS bowl.
"He couldn't take the heat -- that's all that was," said David Young, a Florida
offensive lineman from 2008 to '11. "He wanted to hand the job off to [offensive
coordinator] Steve Addazio and get out of there."
The Gators seemed poised for a long run as a superpower program. They won two na
tional championships in a three-year span and produced 30 future NFL players fro
m their 2008 roster alone, all while cementing Meyer's place in the coaching pan
theon.
The program was seemingly invincible. Then it was in disarray. Meyer resigned fo
r good after the 2010 season. The Gators stumbled to a 29-21 record in four subs
equent seasons under Will Muschamp, and they were picked by the media to finish
fifth in the SEC East this season under first-year coach Jim McElwain.
Meyer's Gators simultaneously courted glory and danger, until they combusted.
"He couldn't take the heat -- that's all that was. He wanted to hand the job
off to [offensive coordinator] Steve Addazio and get out of there."
Offensive lineman David Young, on Urban Meyer
That era of Florida football launched many players into stardom -- and a few oth
ers toward infamy.
Tim Tebow. Aaron Hernandez. Percy Harvin. Maurkice and Mike Pouncey. Joe Haden.
Brandon Spikes. Riley Cooper. Even a young Cam Newton was there, awaiting his ch
ance to start under center.
The Gators' coaching staff under Meyer was also formidable, boasting future head
coaches of major programs in Strong (Louisville, Texas), Dan Mullen (Mississipp
i State) and Addazio (Temple, Boston College).
But the unrelenting drive that thrust the Gators into college football folklore
proved unsustainable. A brilliant coach lost his fire. Fights once born of inten
se competition became sparked by contempt and disrespect. A culture of favoritis
m was perceived by many, and combined with myriad off-field issues, it slowly er
oded the program's foundation.
The wheels began to come off in 2010, when Meyer had one foot out the door and a
brash freshman class regularly clashed with upperclassmen. Muschamp, the former
defensive coordinator at Texas, made strides in cleaning up the image of a prog
ram that endured more than 30 player arrests during Meyer's tenure, but Florida'
s reputation for high-octane offense fizzled on his watch.
In revisiting a legendary period of SEC football and the ripples it left behind,
ESPN.com spoke with more than two dozen figures associated with those Gators te
ams -- Meyer, Tebow and Harvin declined interview requests -- to chronicle the d
ominance and fall of a proud program.
"We thought we were untouchable," linebacker A.J. Jones said.
Urban Meyer and Tim Tebow did a lot of celebrating at Florida, but the program h
as struggled since those glory days. Al Diaz/Miami Herald/MCT
Full-padded summer practices were so brutal that players savored the smell of mo

rning dew on the practice field's Bermuda grass, knowing the Gainesville sun wou
ld soon burn it off and own their legs. Fences were covered with tarps to keep o
ut prying eyes. Coaches called an excessive number of inside run plays to gauge
toughness, and allowing first downs meant extra conditioning for the defense. Th
e screeching of assistant coaches barking orders into helmet ear holes drowned o
ut the sounds of cars driving past.
Defensive players called it "hell," and Tebow had heavenly protection every time
he ran the shovel option.
"Couldn't even breathe on Tim Tebow," said cornerback Markihe Anderson. "Everyon
e knew that."
If anyone was going to violate that rule, it was Spikes.
If you run that s--- one more time, I'm going to bust you.
Bodies tangled at the line after Tebow took the ensuing shotgun snap, hit the le
ft hole and dropped his shoulder. Spikes anticipated the play, found the hole an
d greeted Tebow by digging his shoulder into Tebow's chest. Some players say Spi
kes gave Tebow a friendly shoulder. Others recall Tebow getting knocked off his
feet.
Casual practice chatter was muted until Tebow sprang from the turf.
It's going to be that kind of day. ... Let's go!
The defense rallied around Spikes, forming a semicircle and girding for a possib
le fight. Meyer's shock quickly turned into a satisfied smirk.
It was August 2008, and the Gators were off and running with competitive frictio
n that would produce a season for the ages.
"Did players have to be separated on occasion? Hell, yes," said defensive line c
oach Dan McCarney, now head coach at North Texas. "Did coaches have to be separa
ted on occasion? Hell, yes. But it never left the locker room, and it was always
out of respect."
Dan McCarney served as a Florida assistant under Meyer for two seasons between s
tints as head coach at Iowa State and North Texas. Kim Klement/US PRESSWIRE
Under Meyer, Florida's program peaked while intrastate rivals Miami and Florida
State were treading water.
Before becoming NFL standouts, twins Maurkice and Mike Pouncey were highly rated
offensive line recruits from Lakeland, Florida, who were leaning toward committ
ing to Florida State. When they visited Tallahassee, however, Seminoles coach Bo
bby Bowden was in his late 70s and playing a CEO role by that point. "He really
didn't know who we were," Mike remembered.
Instead, they found a home in Gainesville, where recruiting was a sport in itsel
f. With the possible exception of family emergencies, Meyer's coaches were expec
ted to be pounding the pavement in pursuit of five-star talent.
The fiery Pounceys grew to embody Florida's competitive culture. Teammates fough
t regularly and hit as hard in practice as most teams do on game day. It might h
ave been Haden and Harvin scrapping after a blocking tangle-up. Or it could've b
een a crushing hit by safety Major Wright that made teammates jokingly wonder wh
ether receiver Frankie Hammond had died.
Sometimes the fighting got so bad that, Marsh remembered, "[Meyer] would say, 'I

can't have everyone hurt,' so he would just cancel practice."

Said tight end Cornelius Ingram, "Practices were like SEC games."
The Gators knew how good they were. Nearly seven years later, players are still
shocked about their September 2008 home loss to Ole Miss, when Tebow got stuffed
on a crucial fourth-and-1. Florida's mindset the rest of that season was clear.
"Beat the brakes off people," tight end Tate Casey said.
Thirty-point win over LSU. Thirty-nine-point win over Georgia. Fifty-point win o
ver Steve Spurrier and South Carolina in The Swamp.
Maurkice Pouncey (56), a key leader for Florida in 2008 and '09, went on to be a
four-time Pro Bowler for the Pittsburgh Steelers. Kim Klement/US PRESSWIRE
SEC games were supposed to be drag-out affairs. Instead, the Gators were making
blowouts commonplace, winning their last 10 games by an average of 35 points.
Meyer was a savvy tactician in the film room, and his strategic expertise put hi
s staff in position to successfully match wits with any competitor in the nation
. Florida's defense would detect an opponent's weakness and expose it. For the S
EC title game against Alabama, the Gators decided they weren't going to let quar
terback John Parker Wilson beat them. Sure enough, Wilson went 12-of-25 for 187
yards and an interception in Florida's 31-20 win.
"It felt like we had a professional defense top to bottom," Haden said.
The Gators were sluggish in the first half of the BCS Championship Game against
Oklahoma, and with the score tied 7-7 at halftime, several players delivered vei
n-flaring speeches.
Of course, the message of only one player -- Tebow's "30 minutes for the rest of
our lives" -- was seen by millions of fans. Players were well aware that the ca
meras always found Tebow, but they also say it didn't matter who got the credit
as long as the result was victory.
"We would have literally died for each other that night," Mike Pouncey said.
Florida pulled away to win the national championship, outscoring the Sooners 177 in the second half, but its profound intensity couldn't last. Less than a year
later, the very tenets that led to the program's success began to crumble.
Six years after winning his second national championship trophy at Florida, Meye
r captured another last season with Ohio State. J. Meric/Getty Images
Tim Tebow was predictable.
The quarterback delivered spirited messages at apartment Bible studies that felt
"like a little church," left tackle Phil Trautwein said. Tebow would tell the g
roup he had "something on my heart" and then would sermonize for 20 minutes or s
o. Tebow would go out on the town with teammates, but he didn't drink.
Aaron "Chico" Hernandez was highly unpredictable.
The tight end was a jokester who would sneak into defensive line meetings for co
okies and steal towels from showering teammates. But he was mercurial. Coaches p
aid him extra attention and privately worried when he went home to Connecticut b
ecause of the company he kept there, and teammates speculated that he kept guns
at his apartment.
One is football's greatest missionary. The other is a convicted murderer serving

a life sentence.
"Did players have to be separated on occasion? Hell, yes. Did coaches have t
o be separated on occasion? Hell, yes."
Defensive line coach Dan McCarney
Perhaps surprisingly in retrospect, their relationship worked. Tebow and Hernand
ez spent time together off the field, with Tebow laughing at Hernandez's childis
h jokes. Coaches wanted Tebow to influence Hernandez, who was hit hard by the de
ath of his father in 2006.
Some teammates found Hernandez likable, but others felt uneasy about his presenc
e.
Hernandez was accused of breaking the eardrum of a bouncer at The Swamp restaura
nt during a 2007 incident that Tebow tried to break up. Ultimately, no charges w
ere filed. Hernandez was also implicated in a 2007 shooting outside Venue nightc
lub that left two men wounded. Hernandez was not listed as a suspect, but years
later it was reported that authorities from his Massachusetts murder case sought
information on Hernandez's role in the incident.
"It didn't surprise me [Hernandez] was in trouble for something," guard Jim Tart
t said. "Killing somebody? No. I didn't expect that."
Tebow played every right note off the field. He socialized but didn't chase wome
n, even though he attracted plenty of female attention. He certainly didn't get
into trouble. Tebow's fame necessitated private areas for him and his friends at
restaurants and bars, where teammates basked in the attention that came with be
ing in his crew.
Aaron Hernandez and Tebow got along well as teammates, and Florida coaches hoped
the star quarterback would influence his tight end off the field. Bob Donnan/US
PRESSWIRE
The quarterback's presence as the team's leader was stronger on television than
in reality. On TV, he was the alpha dog. In the locker room, he was one of sever
al players in leadership roles.
Tebow's famed "Promise" speech after the Ole Miss loss is now celebrated with a
plaque outside The Swamp. What went untold: wide receiver Louis Murphy consoling
a sobbing Tebow minutes before that speech, assuring him Florida would win out.
Tebow became "almost bigger than the team," said cornerback Jeremy Brown, one of
many who considered Spikes the team's emotional leader and Harvin its best play
er. The Pounceys, Murphy, running back Brandon James and linebacker Ryan Stamper
also held sway in the locker room.
Harvin was a double espresso of playmaking. He could miss a week of practice and
still dominate on Saturdays. He averaged a touchdown every 6.5 touches in 2008.
His truculence off the field included, according to a 2012 Sporting News story,
a physical attack on wide receivers coach Billy Gonzales. Several players confi
rmed that account to ESPN.com. Teammates openly talked about Harvin's mood swing
s. One minute, he might be smiling and laughing. The next, he could be involved
in a confrontation.
Gators athletic department representatives once scheduled a meeting with Harvin
and his mother to discuss whether he wanted a Heisman campaign and how he felt a
bout Tebow getting so much love. Harvin and his mom didn't show up.
"Great athlete who knew it and didn't want to be told what to do," said one star
ter who spoke on condition of anonymity.

"It didn't surprise me [Aaron Hernandez] was in trouble for something. Killi
ng somebody? No. I didn't expect that."
Offensive lineman Jim Tartt
Spikes was difficult to figure out. His hits could be heard from University Aven
ue. Teammates called him "Big Old Country Boy," a nod to his North Carolina root
s and affable nature. Taunting opposing players was a specialty for Spikes, who
once goaded Michael Oher of "The Blind Side" fame for an entire game, taunting t
he Ole Miss left tackle by his middle name, Jerome. "He did his research on guys
," Green said. Conversely, Spikes once disappeared from the team for nearly two
weeks after the 2008 season. Strong kept calling his cell phone but got no answe
r.
Another strong personality was receiver Riley Cooper, who later became known for
using racial slurs and threatening a black security guard after video of the in
cident at a concert went viral. At Florida, Cooper was known as a hothead but wa
s "friends with everyone," Tartt said. Cooper accompanied teammates to Venue, wh
ere he might be the only white male in attendance some nights. "He had more blac
k friends than anybody," one teammate said.
Like Harvin, Cooper once got into a physical altercation with Gonzales, accordin
g to an eyewitness. Meyer, a receivers coach by trade, gave extra attention to a
group with six future NFL players, which led many to believe Gonzales employed
a tough-guy act when Meyer left the room in an effort to regain control of the p
osition group.
The Gators juggled a lot of egos, and for a time, Florida benefited by emboldeni
ng individual players. Eventually, the personalities overpowered the team.
Riley Cooper, who got into hot water for a racial slur in 2013, "had more black
friends than anybody" at Florida, according to a former Gators teammate. Kevin C
. Cox/Getty Images
The bar was set unreasonably high for the 2009 Gators, whose fans expected nothi
ng short of a dynasty.
Meyer was undeniably the nation's hottest coach. Tebow drove debates about his p
lace among the greatest college quarterbacks of all time. He returned to school,
as did Spikes and many other members of an imposing defensive unit. But without
Harvin, the Gators sometimes had to sweat out victories by controlling the cloc
k.
Symptoms of discontent surfaced Oct. 24, when Tebow threw two pick-sixes at Miss
issippi State. Florida escaped with a 29-19 win, but Spikes, who missed the game
with a groin injury, was displeased with Tebow's play.
The two players got in each other's faces and had to be separated twice, once in
the locker room at halftime and once after the game. "You should be blowing the
se m-----f------ out," Spikes is said to have yelled at Tebow, who didn't addres
s the media that night. Players said Tebow looked emotionally hurt after the exc
hange with Spikes, but the quarterback later said he considered it emblematic of
two passionate players.
"Practices were like SEC games."
Tight end Cornelius Ingram
The Gators were winning, but discord was in the air. Addazio noted this when pla
yers bickered about the offense not scoring enough after a 13-3 win at LSU.
"There was so much outside negativity that it wears everyone out," Addazio said

of the 2009 season. "It was a grind." The tipping point arrived on Dec. 1, when
defensive lineman Carlos Dunlap was arrested on suspicion of DUI after a night o
ut with teammates and suspended for the upcoming SEC championship rematch with A
labama.
Players were hurt by Dunlap's indiscretion but didn't squarely blame the subsequ
ent 32-13 loss on him. However, Meyer mentioned the incident in multiple team se
ttings leading up to the game, albeit without calling Dunlap out by name. Many p
layers said Meyer's ire was justified, but that he unwittingly amplified the dis
traction and provided a ready-made excuse for losing to the Crimson Tide.
A disgusted Dunlap watched the game from his home in South Carolina. "I had to w
alk on campus knowing I let everybody down," said Dunlap, who later pleaded guil
ty and was sentenced to probation.
When the Gators beat Cincinnati 51-24 in the Sugar Bowl on Jan. 1, 2010, it capp
ed a chaotic week in which Meyer resigned, only to return to the team a day late
r. It also put the bow on a season that was emotionally draining for many of tho
se involved. But Florida players didn't get rings for their victory, because coa
ches had deemed the season championship or bust. Some players remain puzzled tha
t they received rings after winning the Outback Bowl the following season to fin
ish 8-5 -- but not one for winning a BCS bowl and finishing 13-1.
"I'm still waiting on mine," Green said.
Brandon Spikes, once the captain of Florida's defense, was cut by the Patriots i
n June after being involved in a hit-and-run accident. He pled guilty in July an
d was sentenced to probation. Streeter Lecka/Getty Images
Florida recruited players with an edge, and the program paid in the court of pub
lic opinion when those players got in trouble, including arrests for gun charges
and domestic assault. The team hated hearing about it, and the echoes grew into
an inevitable distraction during the 2009 and 2010 seasons.
Fortunately for many players, Gainesville lawyer Huntley Johnson helped them suc
cessfully navigate the legal system. They knew to go to Johnson. One player reme
mbers walking into Johnson's office for counsel and seeing a teammate already th
ere.
Murphy, now a member of the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, was on the phone with a report
er this summer when he told a team staffer he was discussing his time at Florida
. In the background, the staffer could be heard referencing those Gators as the
"all-time thug team."
"I think it was starting to become [Urban Meyer playing favorites]. If you a
sked him now, he's probably not doing that at Ohio State."
Offensive lineman Phil Trautwein
Some of the Gators "partied all the time," Murphy admitted. He saw a few fights
in nightclubs, but the thug label bothers him. "Nobody on the team felt we were
thugs," Murphy said. "Every situation is unique. Gainesville is a little bit dif
ferent. ... We got profiled. We had to watch everything we did."
Meyer stressed core values -- respect women, no stealing, no drugs, no weapons - and even sent graduate assistants to clubs to monitor players. Eventually, tho
ugh, some players said they sensed a strategy of damage control from Meyer. "Get
guys to Saturday," Brown said. "Keep guys out of the press."
Too often, Gators players acted "too big-headed" and had problems with locals at
nightclubs, Haden said. That led to fights and brushes with the law.

Influences were everywhere when players left the facility. Gators received perks
and meals here and there in Gainesville, some players say. Agents would stalk t
he dorm rooms of top players.
Two players say Haden readily tossed $100 bills in a New Orleans strip club afte
r the Sugar Bowl, leading them to wonder about agent influence. Haden offers a s
lightly different account. "I was throwing a lot of ones that equaled up to a lo
t of hundreds," said Haden, who added that he had already decided to enter the 2
010 NFL draft.
Several former Gators believe the team has struggled in part in recent years bec
ause the school tried to recruit high-character players as an answer to public r
elations problems under Meyer.
"We had to handle our business better," Ingram said.
Enigmatic receiver Percy Harvin is with his fourth NFL team, the Bills, since co
ming out of Florida after the 2008 season. Rob Tringali/Sportschrome/Getty Image
s
Life was good for "ballers" in Meyer's program.
Ballers produced on Saturdays and were committed to the program. Ballers got fir
st dibs at team meals, front seats on chartered planes and were often excused fr
om practice. Meyer took care of players he trusted.
"I think it was starting to become [playing favorites]," Trautwein said. "If you
asked him now, he's probably not doing that at Ohio State."
Some players were bitter about the arrangement but, as Brandon James said, "you
had to produce to be in that role."
Former Gators linebacker John Jones, who finished his college career at Tennesse
e State, said he was suspended a game for being late to a meeting. Nevertheless,
Jones insisted he isn't upset about it and wishes he had stayed at Florida. But
many teammates wondered whether Jones would've been suspended at all if he was
a star and not a special-teamer. Some players were told they had to practice in
order to play, so they would train hard all week while stars sat out, only for t
hose stars to get their spots back on Saturdays. For some, this routine drained
their confidence.
"[Meyer] allowed players to do what they wanted, which is why the program is
still getting fixed. He allowed players to run amok."
Offensive lineman David Young
Meyer was known to ask stars how their mothers were doing, but lesser players ha
d trouble simply drawing eye contact from the head coach. Some think it was all
part of Meyer's motivational tactics. Meyer has a psychology degree from Cincinn
ati, and "we all knew he used that in coaching," A.J. Jones said.
Said Tartt about the favoritism, "It pissed off a lot of people."
There were occasions when players practiced during the week, only to miss a game
while wearing a protective boot on the sideline. It was suspected in the locker
room that those players had failed a drug test. A.J. Jones estimates a "good am
ount" of Gators failed school-administered drug tests or feared they would. Anot
her player says at least a dozen key players were in that category, despite crea
tive efforts to beat those tests. In 2012, the Sporting News reported that Meyer
publicly stated players were hurt when they were actually sitting out a game be
cause of the university drug-testing protocol.

Murphy disagrees. "If you were in a boot, you were hurt," he said.
"I have been criticized that I have been too lenient on players; that doesn't co
ncern me," Meyer told the Sporting News. "We are going to go out of our way to m
entor, educate and discipline guys the way we see fit to make sure they're heade
d in the right direction. Are we perfect? I never said that."
The exodus of several key players after the 2009 season would leave a leadership
void. A brash recruiting class was on its way to Gainesville. There was uncerta
inty at the top of the program. Forces were beginning to align against the Gator
s.
Joe Haden was rewarded with a five-year contract extension potentially worth $68
million by the Cleveland Browns last year. Kim Klement/US PRESSWIRE
Whispers about Meyer's health started to circulate in the locker room soon after
Florida's loss in the 2009 SEC title game, but details were scarce because the
coach fiercely protected his privacy. Unknown at the time was the fact that Meye
r had been rushed to a Gainesville hospital by ambulance after his wife, Shelley
, had called 911 because Meyer was complaining of chest pains.
Nevertheless, the blunt message to staff members was to keep recruiting and keep
coaching -- until he had to tell the team something in that meeting room in lat
e December.
Meyer ultimately decided to remain head coach in 2010. Strong accepted an offer
to become head coach at Louisville. Addazio was elevated to associate head coach
. Some players speculated about how long Meyer would be able to maintain the rig
ors of the top job and whether Addazio would need to take over at some point. Th
e Pounceys wanted Addazio for the sake of continuity and believed Meyer supporte
d that. "If Coach Meyer could have gotten [Addazio] the job, he would have," Mau
rkice Pouncey said.
Plenty of players were frustrated by the unsettled coaching dynamic. Coupled wit
h Meyer's lethargic approach to the offseason, it created a climate of uncertain
ty within the program.
Gone was the Meyer who chest-bumped players in hallways or recited lines from DJ
Khaled's "Out Here Grindin." That coach was replaced by a man who barely had th
e energy for polite hellos. Also gone was the steadying influence of Strong, who
m players nicknamed "The Mayor" because he was cool with everyone. "He kind of r
an the day-to-day," Dunlap said. "He was easy to talk to."
"We broke up as a class. I honestly don't think we will be remembered [well]
."
Offensive lineman Ian Silberman
Florida's 2010 recruiting class, ranked No. 1 in the nation by ESPN at the time,
ushered in a new, volatile era of Gators football. Those players routinely chal
lenged upperclassmen and coaches. Freshman linebacker Ronald Powell, the nation'
s top prep prospect, once cussed out strength coach Mark Campbell in front of te
ammates, prompting guard Jon Halapio to confront Powell in the locker room, whic
h in turn led to a fight between Powell and linebacker Lerentee McCray.
Several key freshmen skipped a training camp session and went unpunished, Young
said, effectively undermining the team's senior leaders. With Meyer's focus dimi
nished, assistant coaches sometimes tried to handle disciplinary decisions withi
n their position groups.
One coach on the staff said the 2010 class was the most unruly he has ever witne
ssed. Another player viewed by some as problematic was Dominique Easley, a five-

star defensive lineman from New York who threatened to quit the team repeatedly,
missing meetings as a result.
"[Meyer] allowed players to do what they wanted, which is why the program is sti
ll getting fixed," Young said. "He allowed players to run amok."
Each signee from the 2010 class received a laminated card with a promise that th
ey would do great things if they stayed together. The card included the names of
every player in the class. But when word leaked that Meyer was resigning, this
time for good, word traveled that some freshmen burned those cards and shot a ce
ll phone video of the act.
Perhaps they were too nave to know Meyer might be on his way out when they signed
. But Meyer is as convincing as anyone in a living room, and he sounded healthy
and refreshed when selling lineman Ian Silberman on coming to Florida.
"We broke up as a class," said Silberman, who spent four years in the Gators' pr
ogram and played his senior season under Addazio at Boston College. "I honestly
don't think we will be remembered [well]."
John Brantley followed Tebow as starting quarterback heading into the turbulent
2010 season at Florida. AP Photo/Phil Sandlin
Meyer clutched a podium on Dec. 9, 2010, but this time he was indeed letting go.
He told the assembled media he was resigning.
On the surface, the move made sense because of the way the 2010 season unraveled
. As one former All-SEC performer put it, the only way Meyer could have stayed w
as if he dismantled the entire roster and started from zero. The grip had slippe
d that much, he said.
When it became clear Meyer's tenure was over, Florida athletic director Jeremy F
oley acted on a succession plan. He notified players that a national coaching se
arch would commence.
But some inside that room -- the same place where Meyer first resigned less than
12 months earlier, in front of the team -- were confounded by a conflicting mes
sage from the head coach.
On Nov. 27, the Gators got pounded 31-7 at Florida State. Fireworks burst, and t
he Seminoles joyfully carried a Gator head off the field. Images of FSU players
driving Florida quarterback John Brantley shoulder-first into the grass were fre
sh.
In a postgame interview, Meyer admitted the Florida program was broken. It seeme
d Meyer was implying he would be the one to fix it. "It's Florida -- we'll be ba
ck strong, stronger than ever," Meyer said at the time.
There wasn't an expiration date on that promise, but so far Meyer is fulfilling
it at Ohio State, where he's 38-3 with a national championship in his first thre
e seasons.
Meanwhile, the chemistry that fueled two national titles is missing in Gainesvil
le. Wright remembers the 2008 Gators having dance-offs in the locker room before
defensive backs meetings. Custom subwoofers boomed Rick Ross tracks and shook l
ockers. That doesn't happen with every team.
In the moment, the program's victories overshadowed its problems. But today, the
Gators are far removed from their glory days.

Tyler Murphy thought he was signing up for greatness when he committed to Florid
a in 2010. He was a two-star quarterback from Connecticut surrounded by five-sta
r recruits. Soon enough, he was surrounded by entitlement, a divided locker room
and upperclassmen complaining about how things used to be different. After four
years in Gainesville, Murphy transferred to play for Addazio at Boston College
as a senior.
Now with the Pittsburgh Steelers as a wide receiver, Murphy struggles to chronic
le what the Gators have accomplished since Meyer left.
"We didn't do anything," Murphy said. "We got away from being hungry."
_
The decline of the Florida Gators' football program in recent years might be a m
oot topic of conversation if one player could have stuck to the plan.
Even as an 18-year-old freshman, Cam Newton's raw ability amazed Gators uppercla
ssmen when he took the field. But the blue-chip quarterback from Atlanta wasn't
mature enough to wait his turn in Gainesville, Florida, and take the reins from
Tim Tebow.
"We thought the program would be in good hands for a long time with him," tight
end Cornelius Ingram said of Newton. "You could see [the ability] when he got in
the game."
During interviews for an ESPN.com story on the triumphs and decline of Florida f
ootball from 2008 to 2010, it became clear that Gators teammates appreciated New
ton's carefree, amiable personality. But they also understood that those very sa
me traits hurt him on the field.
Before winning the 2010 Heisman Trophy for Auburn, becoming the No. 1 overall pi
ck in the 2011 NFL draft and earning a contract potentially worth $100 million f
rom the Carolina Panthers, Newton had "some goofiness to him" that played out on
the Florida practice field, cornerback Markihe Anderson said. A number of playe
rs believed Tebow's unquestioned role as starter allowed Newton to lose focus, w
ith another highly rated quarterback recruit, John Brantley, becoming the better
practice performer. Brantley, a natural pocket passer, won the starting job in
2010 and produced mixed results in a spread offense designed for running quarter
backs. He went 13-8 as a starter and threw for fewer than 200 yards in 13 of tho
se games.
Florida had Cam Newton waiting in the wings to replace Tim Tebow, but things did
n't transpire according to plan in Gainesville. Tim Casey/Collegiate Images/Gett
y Images
Conversely, Newton landed at Auburn after spending a year at a Texas junior coll
ege, and he produced one of the finest seasons in college football history. Newt
on went 14-0 in guiding the Tigers to the 2010 BCS championship, accounting for
51 touchdowns and more than 4,000 passing and rushing yards combined.
"He wasn't always putting his best foot forward [as a backup]," former Gators ru
nning back Brandon James said. "Guys would always speak to him, remind him to ta
ke things seriously -- 'You're going to be special.' It kind of clicked for him
with the bumps in the road away from Florida, but he needed that time to develop
."
Ultimately, Newton's two-year stint at Florida ended with him leaving head coach
Urban Meyer little choice but to make other quarterback plans.
Newton was arrested and charged with possession of a stolen laptop in November 2
008. The charges were dropped after Newton completed a pre-trial intervention pr
ogram and community service. Fox Sports later reported Newton was facing possibl

e expulsion for academic improprieties when he transferred to Blinn College in 2

009. Newton decided to transfer, but there's almost no question he was out of ch
ances at Florida.
Over two years, Newton gave Florida 113 rushing yards and 54 passing yards in
ot duty. He gave Auburn and Carolina much more than that. Knowing what Newton
nt on to become -- and what Florida became without him -- it's easy to wonder
ether Meyer would still be at Florida had Newton stayed, players say.
Newton led the nation in yards per pass attempt (10.2) and the SEC in rushing
rds (1,473) for Auburn in 2010. Christian Petersen/Getty Images

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"If he doesn't get in trouble and sticks it out, Florida doesn't have the proble
ms they've had," James said. "The offense fits him perfect."
Former Florida tight end Tate Casey agrees Newton was an ideal fit for Florida's
offense, but wonders whether Newton needed the change of scenery to maximize hi
s potential.
"Going to [junior college] was probably a turning point in life, and it may have
been the best thing for him," Casey said. "If he stayed at Florida, who knows i
f he would have had the same spark? It's not certain he wanted to be there anymo
re."
Years later, former Gators who are now in the NFL have interacted with Newton en
ough to know he would have been an explosive, exciting player to watch in The Sw
amp.
While discussing a two-year Gators run that produced a 26-2 record and the 2008
national championship, and what subsequently went wrong with the program, center
Maurkice Pouncey said, unprompted, within the first minute of the conversation:
"What if Cam Newton stayed at Florida?"
It's the same tantalizing question many Gators fans have undoubtedly asked thems
elves.