Then quarterback Jason White, last year's Heisman Trophy winner, thought it would be a good idea to throw a pop fly of a pass into quintuple coverage. Interception. On the ensuing drive, Marcus Walker, on a corner blitz, thought it would be a good idea to stop in mid-rush, leaving no pressure on USC quarterback Matt Leinart, this year's Heisman winner, as receiver Dwayne Jarrett promenaded down the left sideline with nary a care in the world. Fifty-four-yard touchdown, 21-7.
Next possession, White threw one to Eric Wright, who unfortunately for White was wearing cardinal and who returned it to the 10. Three plays, touchdown, 28-7. And so on.
But make no mistake: Without these mistakes, USC still would have won in a rout. The muffed punt was flukey, a brain cramp, but otherwise, it was just one team playing better than the other. Leinart made great throw after great throw and his receivers made some great catches. Bush and LenDale White ran all over the place. USC got plenty of points off of turnovers and short fields, but they also put together four touchdown drives of 75 yards or more. Except for an impressive opening drive, Oklahoma's offense was nonexistent.
It wasn't Oklahoma's night, sure, but playing their best game, the Sooners lose to the Trojans by plenty. This was no fluke. If these teams could play 10 times without USC getting bored of the whole thing, they might not all be five-touchdown blowouts but the Trojans would win all 10.
"I don't have to down-talk Oklahoma," said Reggie Bush, USC's sophomore general yard-gainer. "Everyone saw the way we played, saw the way Oklahoma played. It's really pretty self-explanatory."
It is, and it was all over long before the children of all nations got anywhere near the field to dance around and twirl their ribbons during the always-endless, always unwatchable Orange Bowl halftime show, which turned out to be the most entertaining Orange Bowl halftime show I've ever seen.
This may have had something to do with the fact that I rarely watch it, but with the possibility of any further football entertainment so remote I figured I'd sit through this year's, especially after I heard the public address announcer call it "The biggest jam of the New Year, featuring multiplatinum recording artist Kelly Clarkson, country music sensation Trace Adkins and superstar Ashlee Simpson!"
There were scattered boos for superstar Ashlee Simpson, proving that the fans in Miami had no ear for surrealism. Or sarcasm.
Clarkson sang her current single, the video for which hilariously has this most famously manufactured pop star in history banging it out onstage in a club, garage-band style. Her microphone malfunctioned briefly at the start, and she spent the entire rest of the song -- an upbeat nose-thumbing breakup song during which she's supposed to look all defiant and tough-chicky -- looking like bullets were whizzing by her head.
People in no physical danger rarely look so scared. Anyone who's ever played one real club gig never wears that look onstage again. First-class entertainment, and an appropriate accompaniment to Oklahoma's meltdown.
Next came Adkins. I'm not a fan, but he quickly showed professional capability that wasn't going to be any fun so I fast-forwarded to the superstar.
Oh, my. I've been to karaoke Tuesday at Big Jim's Trucketeria, friends, and I've never seen anything like this. Sweetheart, pick a key. Learn a move or two. Try lip-syncing. Oh, wait, never mind that last one. It was a staggering display of incompetence matched only by the Oklahoma secondary. I can't remember ever seeing a performer so devoid of singing ability, stage presence, looks or anything else anyone not related would want to see twice.
When Simpson's song mercifully ended, the crowd united in booing. Sooners and Trojans, fat cats and cheap seaters, locals and tourists, 77,912 strong, they found one thing all night they could agree on: Boo!
It was great. Then the football players came back, the butt-kicking resumed, and it got kinda boring. Ashlee Simpson, superstar, is a tough act to follow. She won't be around much longer. I'm going to miss her.
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King Kaufman is a senior writer for Salon. Visit his column archive.
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