Gregg Doyel

The Washington Post's update today is brutal. In a nutshell, the Post is reporting that Arenas was joking with Crittenton when he gave him an unloaded gun, but that Crittenton freaked out and grabbed his OWN gun, loaded it, and acted menacingly.

Understand something: Arenas started this whole business and deserved some form of suspension. I get that. But Crittenton, if the Post story is accurate, is the baddest guy here. And I don't mean bad as in good. I mean bad as in scary.

I stand by my column. Completely. More than ever, in fact.

And I don't mean he got lucky to recruit Tim Tebow. I don't mean that at all.

I mean, my first thought when I read Urban Meyer's quotes that he was resigning because he had to look out for his health and future, was this:

Who was looking out for Tim Tebow's health and future when he was allowed to play in the Gators' very next game after suffering that horrific concussion against Kentucky?

If you're thinking I'll never let that story go, you're probably right: I'll never let it go. Urban Meyer gambled something that wasn't his to gamble. He gambled that the doctors, who were guessing, and that Tebow himself, who was hoping, were right. He gambled that Tebow would be OK if he played against LSU.

The gamble worked, obviously. Tebow didn't suffer another concussion Oct. 10 against LSU. But what if he had? We'll never know what would have happened next. But I know this: That day against LSU, Urban Meyer gambled something that wasn't his to risk.

That said, good for Meyer for resigning at the height of his coaching powers, putting his family and his future ahead of his personal ambition.

But shame on him for not doing the same for Tim Tebow on Oct. 10.

You're 6-foot-8. You weigh 250 pounds. You have enough basketball skill to play someday for a six-figure contract, possibly even in the NBA for a seven-figure deal.

And you're quitting basketball? Because the going got tough?

Grow up, you big baby. It can't be easy dealing with allegations that you stole a laptop from a dorm room, and if charges come and a conviction happens, well, wow. That would be awful.

But don't quit basketball. It's your ticket to the good life. You're going to throw that ticket away?

Come on. That's crazy talk.

And I did it on Twitter! Good Lord, I'm a dork.

But a boxing dork. And the Pro Bowl is trying to hype its game, the week before the Super Bowl in Miami, by putting on a series of "Pros vs. Joes" events. One of them is boxing, where they want a Joe to box a player. They called me to be the Joe. I asked them to try to get Chad Ochocinco, who has dabbled with boxing, as the Pro.

So I Tweeted him the challenge, and even included this rather brutal story I wrote about him last month to get him motivated. Will he say yes? If the Bengals are in the Super Bowl, surely not. But if they fall short ... why not? He'll either be in the Pro Bowl or he'll be in Miami for the event. He lives down there.

So no excuses, unless he feels like beating me up would have no upside for him. And I would get that.

And getting beaten up by me would be even worse.

I know. Believe me, I know .

I wrote this about Twitter .

And I even went on CNN and said this about Twitter .

But here I am. On Twitter. Follow me ?

And for the person out there who took the Twitter address for my name -- just greggdoyel -- I hate you. And I'm disgusted by you. But I have to admit I like your style. And your taste is impeccable.

Best thing that could happen to Lane Kiffin, and to the Tennessee football program, would be for his voice box to move to Tahiti.

Kiffin's mouth is the biggest reason he's in the headlines for negative reasons, and his mouth has struck again. As for being investigated for recruiting violations, Kiffin stuck his chest out and bragged about it: "They want to know how we're able to get interest from so many great players, and sign so many great players, so I think you have a lot of people coming at us."

True. They do want to know, Lane. Because Tennessee hasn't won in years, and you haven't won (as a head coach) ever, and yet still you get blockbuster recruit after recruit. The world wants to know how you're doing it, and if you keep shooting off your mouth, the world might just take the time and effort to find out.

Kiffin comes from USC, which had the Reggie Bush scandal. Am I saying Lane Kiffin was dirty then, or is dirty now? Hell no. I have no idea how Kiffin is doing it.

But most closets have a skeleton or two, and every time Kiffin shoots off his mouth, it motivates a few more people to search for his closet. That's a fact. Can Kiffin handle the scrutiny? We'll find out. If he doesn't shut his mouth.

Notre Dame ain't what it used to be, and if you ask me, it's never going to be what it used to be -- one of the dominant programs in college football -- ever again. Not without massive changes in admission standards and scheduling, meaning, a relaxation of both.

But I could be wrong about that. Maybe Notre Dame can stay high and mighty when it comes to academic standards and scheduling practices and still return to its greatness of decades ago. Brian Kelly will be the litmus test.

Urban Meyer wouldn't have worked as a litmus test, because Urban Meyer is too good. Urban Meyer could coach at Ball State, and Ball State would become a national powerhouse. Urban Meyer at Notre Dame? Instant powerhouse, and not because it's Notre Dame. But because he's Urban Meyer.

Brian Kelly is a poor man's Urban Meyer, and if you think that's an insult, think again. That would be like saying I'm a poor man's Ernest Hemingway. I'd take that as an enormous compliment.

And so should Brian Kelly fans. He's a poor man's Urban Meyer, which is to say, he has a lot of Meyer's ambition and ego and offensive flair. But he's not Meyer. He's good, but he's no Meyer.

And so my point is this: If Brian Kelly can't return Notre Dame to its previously great heights, then it can't be done. Short of the hiring of Urban Meyer, which, as I've said, wouldn't prove anything because Meyer would win huge at Baylor or Kentucky or, yes, Notre Dame.

My theory on Notre Dame -- great tradition, but it's never coming back -- will be put to the test by Kelly, who's perfect for the job. He runs a crazy-fun offense that will win over recruits, and he has a huge personality that will win over the media, and he's Irish-Catholic to boot. His name is Brian Kelly , for crying out loud.

Kelly is as good a coach as Notre Dame is ever going to get -- but he's not a can't-miss genius. He could possibly miss. And if he does miss? Then I was right: Notre Dame ain't never coming back.

Idiot. He's an idiot. That's really all I have to say, but I'll add this: When you're an MLB star, you don't have to take naked, or near-naked, photos of yourself to impress the ladies (or the men). You're a freaking MLB star! You idiot.

I mean Sizemore. He's the idiot. Total freaking moron.

And my body's better anyway.

Two hours before kickoff against Florida State, Florida coach Urban Meyer was on the field, just him and daughter Gigi Nicki, greeting every Gator as the team walked through the stadium and across the field toward the locker room. By 1:37 p.m., the team was gone, but Meyer and Nicki stayed. It was almost as if one Gator had yet to cross the field.

One guess who that was.

Ten minutes later, a handful of sheriff's deputies start walking down the empty stadium steps. They are followed by a single Gator. Of course, it's Tim Tebow.

Meyer meets him at midfield with a hug. Nicki hugs him. They walk toward the locker room, and Tebow throws his arm around Meyer's shoulders as they disappear into the tunnel.

I don't care who you are or how cynical you are (guilty ): If you were here, and you didn't get goosebumps watching this, you're a cadaver.

Didn't I? In my Heisman story Thursday, I unveiled my vote. Four names. None of them "Mark Ingram." He's a nice running back on a great team, but a Heisman candidate? He shouldn't be that. And maybe he's not after that debacle against Auburn.

My Heisman candidates remain golden:

1. Toby Gerhart.

2. C.J. Spiller

3. Colt McCoy and Dexter McCluster (tie)

No Tim Tebow, either. His candidacy is a damn joke, as is any voter that falls for it.

Soccer is a sport where cheating is commonplace. This is a sport where players walk the ball 10 or 20 yards up the field before throwing it in, just to get an extra advantage. This is a sport where teams set up a human wall 10 yards from the ball, as the rules say, but then creep forward to close the gap.

This is a sport where players flop around the pitch field like fish trying to draw fouls or even red cards on opposing players, because playing 11-on-10 is easier than 11-on-11. This is a sport where every bit of contact requires a stoppage in play and possibly a stretcher to carry the wounded faker off the field.

And everyone's outraged because France's Thierry Henry used his hand to stop a ball in the box, leading to the pass, and the goal, that sent France into the World Cup at the expense of Ireland?

Nonsense. This is a sport where faking is celebrated, so get off your high horse, soccer fans. Thierry Henry didn't cheat worse than anyone else.

He cheated better.

Listen to me. I'm not this mean. I don't intend for this to be as petty as it's going to sound. But I have to tell you one, just one, of the differences between a big-time football school like Ohio State ... and a smaller sibling like Cincinnati.

It's a detail, but details matter. Here it comes:

I'm eating the pregame meal before the Iowa-at-Ohio State game, and they have a McDonald's McFlurry station set up. Plus McDonald's iced coffee. That's in addition to a solid meal of BBQ and potato salad and so forth.

That's now. Last night, at the West Virginia-at-Cincinnati game, they also served BBQ. Fine dinner. But at halftime, their idea of nourishment was to scoop the leftover baked beans into a tin and set the tin on a table, next to a pile of paper plates. Here you go, media. Eat up.

At halftime of this OSU game, I expect more McDonald's. Maybe some pizza.

Just noting. There's money at OSU. And there's cold baked beans at Cincinnati. As far as analogies go, that's a good one.

Something's not right with those kids, and I'm talking about both of Michael Jordan's basketball-playing kids.

One of them, Jeffrey, turned down offers to play at small schools, where he could have actually played, to go to Illinois, where he couldn't. In other words, he chose to play in his father's shadow at a school where he couldn't play at all. And then he quit the team in June, only to decide last month that he wants to come back and (not) play after all. The kid's a mess, and he hasn't made a smart decision yet.

And he's the one I like.

This other Jordan kid, Marcus? I can't stand him. He's the kid who went to Central Florida, a school that has an adidas contract, and refused to wear adidas. He wants to wear Daddy's shoes, to which I'd say this: If wearing Daddy's shoes is that important, then pick a school that has a contract with them.

But no. Marcus Jordan insists on wearing Daddy's shoes at an adidas school, and that petulance has cost UCF an enormous shoe deal with adidas, which isn't about to be jerked around by a teenager with an overblown sense of entitlement. Good for adidas. Too bad for UCF. Shame on Marcus Jordan.

And nice job, Michael.

You hear me, Big Ten people? Not a damn word about any SEC conspiracies.

That Iowa-Indiana game was the ugliest thing I've ever seen. Questionable calls went to Iowa. A touchdown for Indiana was reversed on replays that never came close to showing enough proof to reverse the call on the field.

I'm saying it: I firmly believe those Big Ten referees, whether on their own or at the behest of the league, did what they had to do to keep the Big Ten's only BCS title candidate undefeated. And given how bad Iowa was for 3 1/2 quarters, they had to do a lot.

If you're a Top 25 voter and you don't vote Iowa down -- as in, worse than last week -- after this game, then you didn't watch the game. Or you didn't know what you were watching.

Pink shoes, anyway. He's supporting breast cancer awareness. Good for him.

He's on the field before the game looking very Viking-like. But he's not the most fired-up player on the field, or even close. The most fired-up Viking is some idiot named Albert Young, who wears No. 34 and plays running back. I've never heard of him, but he's strutting around and bobbing his head like he's Brett Favre.