It's Crystal Clear -- No One Can Touch This USC Team

By Bill Plaschke

Jan. 5, 2005 12 AM PT

MIAMI — Computers can’t crash this. Polls won’t pollute this. Biases don’t break this.

Not now, not after three years of whiny debate and nagging doubt ended Tuesday in bloodied faces and busted perceptions.

USC stuck a four-hour fist into an Oklahoma mouth.

USC slapped a grass-stained, padded forearm around a national consciousness.

Amid grinding and whirring and banging, USC lowered a cardinal-and-gold dome upon a deep foundation.

Welcome to the college football’s new capital.

The address is 55-19 Trojan Way.

Not another soul for miles.

Boom, Sooners.

“We showed we have the passion, we showed we have the intensity, we showed we have the stuff of champions!” receiver Steve Smith shouted over the blaring of his band and cries of his teammates after USC’s overwhelming victory in the national championship Orange Bowl.

The Trojans showed it. Did you see it?

It was so lopsided, Oklahoma’s fans barely saw three quarters of it, nearly all of them fleeing Pro Player Stadium early, with all the clumsiness of their silly covered wagon.

It was such a beating, Oklahoma’s players seemingly quit before their fans, many throwing up their hands before trudging inside with a 38-10 halftime deficit.

“At the end of the first half, their defense would take the field like, ‘OK, the offense put us in another bad position, what do you want us to do about it?’ ” Trojan guard John Drake said. “No more confidence, no more swagger.”

The Trojans shouted it. Did you hear it?

The USC hitting was louder than the halftime boos for the wretched Ashlee Simpson. The USC speed left the Sooners gasping for breath.

Bob Stoops was bawling afterward about a silly fumble by punt returner Mark Bradley that essentially handed the Trojans their second touchdown and first lead -- “As bad of a play as there is,” he said -- but be serious.

If that ball isn’t fumbled, maybe the Sooners lose by only 25.

If Jason White doesn’t throw three interceptions, maybe the Sooners lose by only 21.

You don’t outgain a team by 153 yards and hold that team’s leading rusher to three yards per carry because that team made mistakes.

“We knew we had them beat from the time we watched them on film,” tight end Alex Holmes said. “We spent all month listening to them run their mouths, but we kept quiet and were gentlemen because we knew, when we came out, we would punch them in the mouths.”

It was a punch that surely stunned college football’s voters throughout a sports landscape that has traditionally lacked respect for Pac-10 teams.

After watching the Sooners walk off Tuesday night dressed in grass stains and glassy stares, one must wonder, is this really the best that the rest of the country has to offer?

“You really soul search as a coach, how this can happen,” Stoops said.

After watching the celebrated Stoops be badly outcoached by Pete Carroll, and the vaunted Adrian Peterson get stopped in his tracks, one only half-jokingly wonders if the Sooners would be bowl eligible if they played in the Pac-10.

“I really thought it would be a tougher game,” Reggie Bush said.

It began that way.

USC’s offense was knocked around in its first offensive series, a couple of dozen yards and Trojans falling everywhere.

USC’s defense was steamrolled in Oklahoma’s first offensive series, 92 yards and seven points and what happened?

Carroll was yelling at defensive assistant Ed Orgeron. Players were yelling at other players.

The Trojan offense took the field, Matt Leinart was so confused he took a delay-of-game penalty, Bush caught a ball and was crushed by two Oklahoma defenders and players on the Sooner sideline were celebrating like the game had ended.

Ah, but it was only beginning.

“We were shouting, ‘We know we can do this thing,’ ” Drake said. “We knew we could go right at these guys. We’ve been a team all year, and we were still a team. We just had to tune it up.”

Leinart calmly drilled a perfect pass to a covered Steve Smith over the middle.

Leinart threw a ball grabbed by a leaping Dominique Byrd.

Leinart then threw a long pass that a sprawling Byrd grabbed one-handed for a touchdown.

“I looked at the man next to me after Byrd’s catch, just to make sure we saw the same thing,” Drake said. “He looked back at me with the same look. We didn’t say anything. We just looked at each other.”

They were three plays that would define a game, a season, an era. The Trojans never trailed again. It was never even close.

Dwayne Jarrett beats safety Brodney Pool so badly down the sideline, the kid is somewhere in Palm Beach when Jarrett catches a perfect 54-yard touchdown pass from Leinart.

Smith is so much tougher than the Sooner secondary, he fights through two of them to make a diving catch for a five-yard touchdown.

Who would have thought the Trojans would win a championship game in which Bush didn’t score a touchdown and Leinart would complete barely half of his passes and their best catch would be by a tight end?

“The thing we saw on film was, Oklahoma played like individuals while we play like a team,” Holmes said.

Afterward the feeling continued, with Leinart throwing oranges from the victory podium to his lesser-known teammates standing behind a fence, with Holmes holding out the crystal ball so his teammates could touch.

Imagine a high-powered Los Angeles team acting as unselfishly as this.

Imagine a star-filled Hollywood team acting as humble as this.

They were the best team two seasons ago, but early losses kept them from the title game. They were the best team last season but were forced to share it. They have finally won it outright.

Twenty-two consecutive victories, 14 of 22 starters returning next season, maybe even Leinart coming back for a senior season although nobody would blame him for taking his Heisman and five national-championship touchdown passes to the pros.

Welcome to the new Miami, the new Tallahassee, the new Norman.

Enjoy the view. It isn’t going anywhere.

Bill Plaschke can be reached at [email protected]. To read previous columns by Plaschke, go to latimes.com/plaschke.