The devil that you don't know

Sonny Dykes isn't Jeff Tedford. (San Francisco Chronicle)

Epigraph /ˈɛpɪgrɑːf/

noun

1 an inscription on a building, statue, or coin.

2 a short quotation or saying at the beginning of a book or chapter, intended to suggest its theme. (Thanks oxforddictionaries.com)

Epigraphs are a ball and chain. They often shackle a reader, viewer or listener into one interpretation of a piece literature, art or music. They tell you “the theme” and that theme hangs around your ankles even after you’ve left the library, museum or concert hall. Epigraphs are like eating a side of garlic fries; all you can taste for a couple of hours afterwards are garlic fries.

Now, if you think that the above is a negative descriptor of what an epigraph is, let me share this, which—by the way—would have been the epigraph that started this piece if I had decided to start the piece with an epigraph:

“Better the devil you know, than the devil you don’t know.”

That’s an old Irish proverb. And like the Irish definition of whiskey (they call it the “water of life”) they know what they’re talking about.

If I had one word to describe the feeling I have going into the 2013 Cal football season it’s “anxious.”

That’s because there is so much uncertainty going into Saturday’s game against Northwestern.

A new coach, a new quarterback, a new bear—all of this knowing that new often does not lead to better. Familiarity breeds comfort (and it also breeds other things).

We all knew what Jeff Tedford brought to the sidelines every weekend and to practice during the week. He brought a no-nonsense, uncontroversial and safe approach to running his program. His demeanor—while infuriating at times—was comforting. His pro-style offense attracted high school kids who wanted to play in the NFL. Somehow fans always had hope because Tedford always brought talent to Berkeley.

We all knew that there was no way that Tedford wasn’t going to lose too many games that often. And for the most part in Tedford’s 11 years at Cal, he was successful, never leading the team to the depths of obscurity until last season.

But now Tedford’s gone and we don’t know what to expect. And the unknowing is unsettling, no matter how shiny the new head coach is.

That’s not to say anything against new head coach Sonny Dykes. The son of former legendary Texas Tech coach Spike Dykes has succeeded everywhere he has gone, whether it be leading the offenses at Texas Tech and Arizona to going to Ruston, La., and transforming Louisiana Tech into the highest scoring offense in all of college football.

If we can say anything about Dykes so far, it’s that he’s changed some of the culture at Strawberry Canyon. Practices run at a break-neck pace, mostly because the offense moves so quickly. And it seems like there’s a new spirit in the team, but that might come from the renewed hope of fall training camp.

No doubt that with any new coaching staff, the expected ceiling is endless. There probably isn’t a ceiling to what Dykes can do at Cal. But then again, the Bear Raid experiment might fail miserably and the Bears will be back to where they were this offseason—searching for a new identity and hoping to find one that can fill the newly renovated Memorial Stadium with fans.

All of that comes with uncertainty, with not knowing. With no previous track record to look upon, no one can really say how Dykes or any new coach will do.

But with that uncertainty comes new hope.

Tedford may have been the devil that we knew, and there’s much comfort in that. Comfort, however, doesn’t amount to success.

Dykes is the devil we don’t know, but he’s the one we put our hopes on. And that has to be the most pleasant uncomfortable feeling around.