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THE RUNDOWN · COLUMN · MAR 28, 2020

Miami’s Real Mount Rushmore Problem: The Program Has Too Many Faces For Four Spots

Miami’s Real Mount Rushmore Problem: The Program Has Too Many Faces For Four Spots

Here is the thing nobody wants to admit about building a Miami Hurricanes Mount Rushmore: the exercise is rigged against the program. Four slots is a fine number for a school with four great players. Miami doesn’t have four great players. Miami has four great eras, and each one produced enough carved-in-stone talent to fill its own mountain. So every Rushmore list you have ever seen from a Canes fan is not really a ranking. It is a confession. Tell me who your four are and I will tell you exactly when you started watching.

The Rushmore Is A Birth Certificate

Put Michael Irvin on your mountain and you are telling me you remember the Playmaker turning a slant into a personal press conference — a man who averaged nearly seventeen yards a catch and caught a touchdown in twenty-six straight games, a record that still sits there daring somebody to touch it. That is not a stat line, that is a decade. Put Ken Dorsey up there and you are telling me you sat through the sanctions years and got paid back in full: 9,565 yards, 86 touchdowns, a Maxwell Award, and a 38-2 record as a starter that ended with Nebraska getting run out of the Rose Bowl 37-14. Warren Sapp on your list? You valued destruction — a unanimous All-American and Big East Defensive Player of the Year who made interior offensive linemen file for workers’ comp. Ed Reed? You valued theft. You valued the football changing hands and the whole stadium understanding, a half-second late, what just happened.

Four names, four completely different arguments about what Miami football even is. And that is before anybody says a word about defensive backs.

The Cornerback Problem Nobody Solves

Bring up Dexter Seigler as the best corner in program history and watch what happens to the room. Not because it is a bad take — it is a defensible one, and it is the kind of take that separates a fan who watched from a fan who read a list. But the second you open the cornerback file at Miami, the Rushmore collapses. You cannot honestly build a monument to this program and leave the entire secondary tradition off it, and you also cannot fit the secondary tradition into one face. That is the trap. Every position group at Miami is deep enough to be its own school’s whole history.

Which is why the honest answer to “who is your Mount Rushmore” at most programs is a list, and at Miami it is a negotiation. You are not picking the four best. You are picking four and then spending the next hour defending everybody you left off.

Running Back U Is The Cleanest Proof

If you want the argument in miniature, skip the mountain and go straight to the backfield. Edgerrin James from 1996 to 1998 put up 2,960 rushing yards and 32 rushing touchdowns. Clinton Portis. Willis McGahee. Frank Gore. Those are four names and only three of them fit on anybody’s top three, which means one of the most productive backs in the modern history of the sport gets cut in the first round of your own personal bracket.

Now here is the detail that should end the conversation and instead starts a new one: the guys those backs were splitting carries with are still in Miami’s all-time top ten. Read that again. The player James was outproducing is a top-ten rusher in program history. The player sharing a backfield with Portis is a top-ten rusher in program history. That is not depth. That is a hoarding problem. Any other program in America builds a statue around the third-best back on those Miami rosters and names a road after him.

So when somebody says James, Gore and Portis and somebody else says James, Portis and McGahee, nobody is wrong. Both lists are correct. The disagreement is a rounding error inside an absurdity, which is the single most Miami sentence you can write.

1991 Versus 2001, And Why It Is Not About Talent

The championship-team debate works the same way, except the stakes feel higher because everybody has a side already. The 2001 team is, on paper, one of the greatest college football rosters ever assembled — that is not homerism, that is the consensus, and the NFL draft boards backed it up for years afterward. If the question is “which team had the most talent,” 2001 wins and it is not particularly close.

But that is not the question people are actually asking. When a Cane says 1991 is his favorite championship team, he is not making a talent claim. He is making a temperament claim. He is talking about a swagger that had to be earned week to week against a sport that openly wanted Miami to lose, about a team that felt like it was fighting the entire establishment rather than simply outclassing a schedule. 2001 was a coronation. 1991 was a takeover. Those are two different emotional experiences and people rank them by which one they needed at the time.

That is why this argument never resolves and why it should never resolve. “Best” and “favorite” are different words, and the Miami fanbase has spent thirty years using them interchangeably on purpose because the fight is the fun part.

Keep The Mountain Unfinished

My actual position: stop trying to finish it. The Rushmore exercise is valuable precisely because it is impossible here. Every version of the list is a door into a different Miami — the outlaw years, the redemption run, the position group you personally think never gets enough credit. A program with a clean, obvious four is a program that had one great decade. Miami’s mountain has too many faces and not enough rock, and that is the flex.

So build yours. Defend it. Then get told you are wrong by somebody who watched a different five-year window than you did, and enjoy the fact that both of you are arguing from a position of overwhelming historical wealth. There are fanbases out there who would trade their whole trophy case for our leftovers.

This take grew out of a Quarantine Friday edition of U Talk Live, where the host went solo, told the family to control what they can control, and spent the night building his own Miami Mount Rushmore while the chat and one very committed caller argued back. Go hear the original four and pick your fight from there.

This take grew out of the March 28, 2020 episode — watch it here: Miami Hurricanes U TALK LIVE-25