Saturday his hair stood in a clump, straight up in the air, frozen in place. It looked like he hadn’t slept or shaved. His gray hoodie neither channeled his inner Bill Belichick nor wore him well. At least he looked better than the week before, when his entire being was comically drowned in a Maryland monsoon.
Two weeks, two desperate late-game visions involving Charlie Weis. He survived a furious rally at Navy, he didn’t Saturday against Syracuse. He looked both battered by the elements and out of his element.
Saturday it was another blown lead, another crushing loss, another round of questions about whether this guy is capable of waking the echoes at Notre Dame as he had once assured with over the top braggadocio.
Only now he doesn’t even look like a guy in command of his program but rather a coach with more questions than answers, someone hanging on not pushing forward.