SUPPORT US. OUR SITE IS 100% OWNED BY A 2002 CLEMSON GRADUATE→ Get THREE Months of CST+ for just $1.00
On Tuesday afternoon, Dabo Swinney looked every bit the preacher at the pulpit.
For 54 minutes and 36 seconds, Clemson’s head coach commanded the microphone with defiance of where his program currently sits. It was a fire-and-brimstone conviction where he implied that true fans were prepared to “burn the boats.”
Thirteen of those minutes were an infomercial on his body of work at Clemson — a résumé that includes two national championships, multiple ACC crowns, and a standard that placed the Tigers among the sport’s elite. None of it was false information.
“If Clemson’s tired of winning, they can send me on my way,” Swinney said. “But I’m gonna go somewhere else and coach. I ain’t going to the beach. Hell, I’m 55. I’ve got a long way to go. Y’all gonna have to deal with me for a while.”
That was Tuesday.
By Saturday night, following a 34-21 thumping at the hands of Syracuse that dropped Clemson to 1-3, the fire was gone. Swinney’s voice carried none of the pulpit thunder, only disappointment and pain.
His postgame presser lasted just 16:22.
“Obviously, an incredibly disappointing outcome and start to our season,” he said. “I mean, there’s just no other way to say it. I mean, just a lot of pain. I’ve been in a lot of painful locker rooms. That was up there near the top. My heart hurts for our team and our fans.”
From this observer’s perspective, the contrast was stark.
On Tuesday, Swinney sounded like a man ready to fight the world. On Saturday, he looked like a man trying to hold together a locker room and a fanbase on the edge of fracture.
So what’s gone wrong with a team that had such lofty expectations and was a preseason Top 5 team?
From the outside, it feels like very few players are embodying Frank Howard’s famous demand to give “110 percent.” Too many hands in Orange and White should probably "keep their filthy hands off,” the famous rock.
The effort just isn’t there.
It’s pretty easy to recognize that at no moment in yesterday’s contest was Clemson in a position to win that game. Syracuse was simply the better team, and that is saying something.
Swinney, perhaps recognizing the fragile state of his players, chose to emphasize heart rather than failure.
“I just hurt for the guys,” he said. “I do hope that y’all notice how hard those kids fought to the last play, and there’s a lot to be said for that. They love Clemson, and they love each other.”
That plea for recognition was in contrast to something Swinney had told ESPN live at the start of the fourth quarter: “I just want to see them fight.”
The problem, though, was not effort alone. The stat sheet told a cruel story as well.
Clemson piled up more than 500 yards of offense — only the third time in program history the Tigers have lost when hitting that mark.
“It’s points,” Swinney admitted. “It’s just finished critical plays in critical times.”
Was play-calling part of it?
“It’s all of the above, it’s everything. Critical execution at critical times, play calling, you name it. It’s all that,” he noted.
When asked about how to handle such a dominating loss to a Syracuse team that likely ends up a middle-of-the-pack team in the ACC, Swinney’s answer revealed the weary resignation of a man who knows there is no quick fix.
“You just gotta flush it,” he said. “This is a bad, bad, bad feeling. It’s terrible. I mean, this is what we do for a living. This is our passion. We work incredibly hard to get the results that we wanna get. When you don’t get them, it’s a pain that’s hard to describe, but it comes with the territory, so we gotta flush it. That’s all we can do. There’s no hope for a better yesterday.”
From Tuesday to Saturday, Swinney embodied two very different versions of himself: the fiery defender of his legacy and the disheartened captain of a locker room that appears to be full of smooth hands.
