Florida State's luck can be permanent

By Charlie Barnes, Executive Director - Seminole Boosters

When fate assigns greatness to a people, or to a nation, or to an institution, it tugs mightily at their hearts with a powerful vision. That vision becomes their guide. And though it may become less distinct from time to time, there are usually leaders who emerge to reignite the vision with their passion.

It may be that you are one of those loyal Seminoles who are passionate about the success of Florida State athletics. A first-class, winning athletic program plays on a huge national stage. The audience is enormous; so are the opportunities.

We are the window through which most of America views Florida State University. That window should always be unclouded. It should always sparkle. It should always enhance the academic architecture and mission of our University.

From the beginning, ours was a scrappy little athletic program, always taking on the giants, and doing well. We were exceptionally lucky - we have always been lucky. You may think it sounds odd, but I believe you have to be willing to be lucky. You certainly have to be willing to take advantage of your good fortune in order to make the most of it.

For a brief period in the early 1970s it seemed that our luck had taken a holiday. I don't have to tell you that football had fallen on hard times, and because of that our other sports had fallen too. Football paid the bills, and when football couldn't deliver, everyone took a hit. Even our magnificent baseball program, which has never had a losing season, had to limp by for a time with less than the full complement of scholarships allowed by the NCAA.

We had few facilities to speak of, and no conference affiliation at all. What tradition we had carefully nurtured as a young school had taken a beating, and while there had been some spectacular wins, there was as yet no real, enduring record of success.

When Bobby Bowden arrived nearly 23 years ago, the landscape changed. We were willing to be lucky, and we were lucky to get exactly the right man at precisely the right time in history.

And the most amazing thing happened: over the years, our perception of ourselves began to change. Instead of just competing with the great programs, we felt that we could become one. We could do for Florida State University what the Irish athletic program had done for Notre Dame. We dreamed that we could actually become a Michigan, or a Southern Cal, or a Penn State or a Nebraska.

Imagine...Imagine all the great programs of legend. Imagine their journey through history as if it were a road. It's a road laid out straight by great coaches and leaders. They build it as they go, cutting it through a forest of time. The roadbed is layered with winning seasons, and the surface is paved with All-Americans and championships in all sports.

So we Seminoles built our own road. And because we had a helluva road engineer we covered twice the distance in half the time. No other school has built a road that fast.

We struggled and labored and constructed and seemed to be coming closer and closer to where the other great programs of legend dwell. And then, something happened.

We hit an obstruction. We suspected it was there all along, but we had never really seen it clearly. It was like a dark bruise on the skyline, a bad cloud. Now, all of a sudden, here it is.

Think of that obstruction as a river. Our road runs right up to the river's edge, and stops.

We can see across. We can see Notre Dame and Michigan and Ohio State and the others. We can see where they live right across the river, and we can see that they are happy, and celebrating, and secure.

Each of them reached the river's edge years ago, and when they did each one built a bridge. That bridge is the last thing you do to complete the journey. Building that bridge across is the last step to the place where programs of legend dwell, where they can be secure and know that they will have all they need to succeed.

Yes, we have built a magnificent road, but bridges are different. To build a bridge you have to sink foundations down deep underwater, to the bedrock. And each of the pilings has someone's name on it.

That bridge is girded with steel; it is where all the scholarships for the entire athletic program are endowed. It is where all the big buildings are finished, and they bear the names of the big donors who built them.

You've seen some of the names on other campuses. Kenan Stadium at North Carolina. Candler Football Complex at Georgia Tech. Ben Hill Griffin Stadium. One generation made Michigan's athletic program unshakable. You can see their names on the buildings as leaves whip through the crisp fall air.

Alumnus and football letterman Carl Smith wrote a $25-million check to Virginia to build a first-class stadium. "Beat the Seminoles," you can hear him whisper.

Coach Bowden, and football, and our loyal and generous Seminole Boosters have brought our entire athletic program up to the river's edge.

We have a window of time to build that bridge. We have an opportunity to cross over and join the legends, and be secure forever.

Athletic Director Dave Hart and his staff have done the engineering. They have laid out all the needs. Hart is committed to seeing this through, as are President D'Alemberte and the entire Seminole Booster leadership.

The chilling question is: How many have been left standing at the river's edge? Do you remember when the University of Houston was a powerhouse in football and basketball? Did you ever dream that Oklahoma would fall back as it has?

Florida State will not be left standing. We will build our bridge and secure the future of our program; I can imagine no other ending to the story.

We will do this because we embrace a clear vision of where we must go, and because we are willing to work hard to be lucky.