Gameday on Rocky Top

If it sounds like I’m going after Butch, it shouldn’t, because I’m not. My track record proves I’m a Butch supporter. I believe he has gone a long way in re-establishing the program to a level of respectability. The jury is still out on whether he’s good enough to be a championship-level coach at Tennessee, but he’s earned enough string to prove whether he can or not.

I’m sorry, but three years of rebuilding from the doldrums of the worst head coaching hire in SEC history and an injury-plagued 2016 season isn’t enough to tell us either way.

I know for a fact that Jones isn’t on the hot seat, no matter what a vocal minority on social media and message boards want to say. New athletic director John Currie knows what state the program has been in, and he knows how far it’s come. This year is a pivot point in Jones’ tenure, sure, but there won’t be any serious talk about going in a different direction until after the 2018 season, at least.

So, divorce that idea from this one: Jones needs to learn what to say when.

Last year was a disappointment. It started with a 5-0 flurry, and was a whole lot of fun breaking the Florida streak and beating Georgia on the Dobb-nail boot. But also included in those five wins was the lucky-to-win game against a less-talented Appalachian State team to open the season.

Then, even though the wheels didn’t necessarily come off, the Vols had to steer to the curb and call a tow service. After an injury-cursed loss at Texas A&M, UT was blown to smithereens by Alabama. Then, they fell apart defensively down the stretch in wins against Missouri and Kentucky and losses to South Carolina and Vanderbilt.

No matter what you want to call it, there’s no excuse for those defensive performances in Year 4 of any coach’s tenure. Tennessee is historically supposed to beat Vanderbilt and South Carolina regardless of the circumstances, but there’s no question UT should have still been more talented than those teams even with all the injuries. At the very least, they shouldn’t have given up miles worth of yards, including a school-record high in yards allowed against Mizzou in a game they actually won.

It’s unacceptable. It’s a disappointment.

Many writers have weighed in over the past few days on Jones’ words. Anything else I say about what he should have said would just be a repeat of that. But even though Butch’s sound bytes are scrutinized more than they probably should be by people across the country, his track record doesn’t exactly give him any free passes.

Much like Jones’ progress in the win column has bought him some wiggle room when it comes to keeping his job (as we’ve already discussed), his verbal miscues have tightened the noose in the realm of public perception. After “champions of life” and “five-star hearts” Butch needs to rebuild his reputation “brick by brick” before the cynical world of media and the court of public opinion.

The fact is Tennessee’s historical fortitude and the heights of the program’s success have sculpted a world where nine wins is acceptable, but it’s not good enough. Butch’s opinion doesn’t matter to a fan base that has seen its two biggest rivals reach unprecedented success during a dark time. The successes of Nick Saban at Alabama and Urban Meyer at Florida haven’t done Butch or anybody else in the SEC, for that matter, any favors.

But Butch didn’t have to beat Alabama in 2016 for it to keep from being a disappointment. All he had to do was win against South Carolina and Vanderbilt and seize a down SEC East with the door wide-open in a year the Vols were expected to do just that.

He didn’t do it. A Florida team with one of the worst offenses in the country has gone to the SEC Championship Game two years in a row now because the Vols couldn’t seize what was being handed to them. Bottom line.

And while last year shouldn’t be nearly enough to get him fired, it’s the first flesh wound.

If that’s not disappointing to Butch, well, it should be.

Here’s the thing, Vols fans. It actually IS disappointing to him. You’ve seen the man on the sidelines. You know he is passionate, turns eight shades of red and looks like his head is going to blow off. He tirelessly recruits, scrutinizes every single detail of the program with his fingerprints all over it and has proved over and over again he will make the difficult decisions — even when it means severing ties with long-time friends — when it comes to upgrading his coaching staff.

He cares. A lot. And he’s disappointed last year didn’t end with the Vols playing for a championship. He said it. The goal is to win championships, and the Vols didn’t do it.

By definition, that’s disappointing.

All he has to do is say it. All he has to do to stay on the same wavelength as the sane Tennessee fans is to just let them know that while things are getting better and the program is getting healthier, seasons like last year are unacceptable. They’re disappointing.

If you want a team that competes for championships and expects championships, you have to preach to your team that anything less is not OK. I’ve been behind closed doors, and Butch does that. He says it all the time; he lives it and breathes it.

For some reason, he just refuses to tell us that. And that’s why we don’t see eye-to-eye.