In a season that feels entirely new because of the 12-team playoff, Tennessee’s first stumble also came via one of our least familiar methods. The question becomes, as always, “What will we do with it?”
The most familiar method for the season’s first loss is, of course, the Gators. Since SEC expansion in 1992 made us annual rivals, Florida handed Tennessee its first loss of the season 13 times in 32 years of divisional play. Add in the year before in 1991 and a pair of losses to Alabama as the first defeat in 1989 and 1990, and you get the theme we loved to hate: for most of our fandom, Tennessee’s most likely outcome for the first loss was falling to one of our biggest rivals. Over the years in any rivalry, you get a buffet of bitter defeats, including plenty to choose from in the categories below. But the nature of rivalry – and, for Tennessee, the proximity of the Florida game to the start of the schedule – established an uneasy rhythm. It fed the more irrational flames of “Majors can’t beat Bama/Fulmer can’t beat Florida”, and created a scenario where, even when Tennessee was really good, we didn’t often control our own destiny past September.
That’s the first big difference between what we’re familiar with and what happened last Saturday: not only is our season not defined by hoping Arkansas loses twice, but the expanded playoff gives room for more grace, and better destinies for more teams. This too can get misconstrued in the percentages and probabilities, which were much more fun to examine when the Vols were still undefeated. But at 4-1, Tennessee does indeed have everything left in front of it. It’s one more example of the journey as the truest destination: if you’re in the playoff hunt, you’re in the conversation to win the whole thing. And if you’re seriously entertaining those thoughts, you’re seriously entertaining victory every Saturday. The first-loss reflex we inherited is a loss of our own destiny. But in 2024? If you want control of your own destiny, you already have it.
So without the sting of rivalry, or losing streaks within those rivalries, or a narrow path to the title, why does that Arkansas loss hurt so much? I think a small part of it is because we’re really unaccustomed to having a game like that be our first defeat.
When it hasn’t been the Gators, it’s usually gone a few other ways:
- Season Opener/First Power Conference Game: 1994 UCLA, 2007 Cal, UCLA again in 2008 and 2009, and Pitt in 2021. Each of these was one you felt like the Vols could’ve/should’ve gotten at kickoff, and thus they all hurt in various ways. But because they came in Week 1 or 2, they carried none of the “I think we’re good because I’ve actually seen this team be good,” of last week.
- We were good, they were better: 2004 Auburn, 2015 Oklahoma, 2016 Texas A&M, 2020 Georgia, and 2022 Georgia. The “we were good” part refers to our thoughts on the Vols at kickoff, especially as it relates to 2020 Georgia. For different reasons each year, you didn’t leave any of these games feeling like the Vols couldn’t have a successful season; three of these years already included a win over Florida by the time we got to these games. 2015 Oklahoma is the hardest to place here, but that group made the playoff and those Vols were still quite capable.
- We were not so good, they were better: Oregon in 2010 and 2013, Oklahoma in 2014, and West Virginia in 2018 all featured the Vols with a first-or-second-year coach against a schedule made in happier times. These all made sense.
And the two outliers: 2019 Georgia State, which very much did not make sense. And the 1998 national champions, who are gloriously exempt from this exercise.
That leaves one other group of first losses. And, yep, these tend to hurt real good:
- Unranked upset with the Vols in the Top 10: 1992 Arkansas, 2001 Georgia, 2003 Auburn, 2024 Arkansas
The ’03 Auburn game is the one that hurts the least on sight here: the Tigers began the year ranked sixth, then started 0-2 and were unranked on October 4 when #7 Tennessee came calling, fresh off a win over Florida and an overtime victory against South Carolina. Auburn jumped ahead 28-7 before Casey Clausen almost led us back. The bulk of that Auburn roster turned into their undefeated juggernaut the following year. And the bulk of Tennessee’s story, at least in terms of losses, was written the following week in a 41-14 blowout to Georgia in Knoxville. So that one gets overshadowed, and Auburn’s talent was certainly elite. But keep in mind, if the Vols did complete that comeback, they would’ve won the SEC East outright instead of finishing in a three-way tie, and are likely ranked #4 playing #3 LSU in Atlanta, with the winner going to the BCS title game LSU eventually won. You never know.
The other two, you almost certainly know. The 1992 Arkansas game saw the Vols at #4 and Johnny Majors back on the sideline, a 25-24 loss in Knoxville that began a three-game, nine-point losing streak that cost him his job. And the ol’ Hobnailed Boot needs no introduction, which is good because I don’t care to write one.
It’s these initial losses – the ones after the Vols have proven their worth, then get hit with the unexpected – that can really do a number on us. And rightfully so.
The good news here, now even more true in a 12-team playoff: none of these games ended up being the defining moment for those Tennessee teams. The ’92 squad took the eventual national champions from Alabama to the wire the very next week, and still could’ve won the SEC East at South Carolina the next Saturday. That 2003 squad did follow up with a terrible, costly performance against Georgia. But they also won at Alabama in five overtimes, then won at Miami.
And here’s the thing about the Hobnailed Boot: ultimately, it didn’t matter. Tennessee is still in Atlanta playing LSU for the SEC title and a trip to the BCS Championship. That’s a whole other and much simpler conversation about the hardest losses ever, the ones with the most on the table. But at this stage of the game, the Vols were never defined by these moments.
And if we find ourselves too deep in the percentages this week and marinating in some form of, “Well dangit, now we have to beat Alabama or Georgia…”? If we’re serious about believing the playoff conversation is a real and regular goal for this program, we should be serious about embracing those kinds of games as opportunities more than stumbling blocks.
Speaking of rivalries and newness, you know who’s next. We had some fun with this chart a few years ago; here’s an updated version:
Tennessee-Florida Line History, 1990-2024
The Vols are -15.5 as I type on Tuesday night. It’s the biggest favorite Tennessee has been against Florida since at least 1990 and probably ever. It’s the third year in a row we’ve been favored over them, each by a margin larger than anything that came before 2022. And that comes two years after Florida was favored over us by more than anything that didn’t involve Vegas believing Urban Meyer might try to physically assault Lane Kiffin before kickoff.
Much the same as the Arkansas loss, I don’t know exactly what to do with all that because it’s so unfamiliar. But I know last Saturday hurt so much in part because this team already showed us so much. And I know this Saturday can be a very good time if the Vols continue to live into that potential.
I’m certainly grateful for the expanded grace a 12-team playoff affords. But more than anything, I’m grateful to be in the conversation, and to believe we can find this program here every year. Having that conversation means expecting to win. Which means it hurts when you don’t.
But I’m very excited to see what Tennessee does with that expectation against Florida Saturday night.
Go Vols.
