[Hank 91]

I also love Meeks. Love him. You know that moment in the stands when someone behind you is saying something about the game that you disagree with, and you fight that inner battle about whether or not to turn around and correct the misguided fan? I usually try to take the high road, but I couldn't help myself when someone was disparaging Meeks at the Rose Bowl. I described the conversation in my recap of the game:

Only minutes earlier a conversation between the knowledgable fans behind us had turned to the development of Stanford's young defensive backs, and one gentleman explained that he wasn't yet sold on Quenton Meeks, the true freshman nickelback who had rescued the Cardinal's season with two interceptions against Washington State. I couldn't hold my tongue. I turned around to defend one of my favorite players on the team. "Are you kidding? Quenton Meeks is an absolute stud!" I exclaimed. "Two years from now you and I will be sitting here in the stands of the 2018 Rose Bowl, and we'll see him for what he is -- Stanford's next great cornerback."

It was a pointless conversation, but perhaps my words had carried down to Mr. Meeks's ears. On 3rd and 3 from the Stanford 36, Meeks lined up across from slot receiver Matt VandeBerg and twitched before the snap as if ready to pounce. VandeBerg ran a soft out pattern to the sideline, but it was far too soft. Meeks saw what was coming immediately, jumped the route, and snagged Beathard's pass at the 34. Like McCaffrey's touchdown on the game's opening snap, this play was a touchdown as soon as the ball hit Meeks's hands, so I must confess to missing part of his sprint down the sidelines. While all around me were celebrating, I turned around to punctuate my earlier conversation with the Doubting Thomas behind me. We couldn't speak, of course, what with the bedlam erupting around us, but I pointed at him in triumph, and he admitted defeat, jokingly bowing down in my direction.

[Hank 91]

I also love Meeks. Love him. You know that moment in the stands when someone behind you is saying something about the game that you disagree with, and you fight that inner battle about whether or not to turn around and correct the misguided fan? I usually try to take the high road, but I couldn't help myself when someone was disparaging Meeks at the Rose Bowl. I described the conversation in my recap of the game:

Only minutes earlier a conversation between the knowledgable fans behind us had turned to the development of Stanford's young defensive backs, and one gentleman explained that he wasn't yet sold on Quenton Meeks, the true freshman nickelback who had rescued the Cardinal's season with two interceptions against Washington State. I couldn't hold my tongue. I turned around to defend one of my favorite players on the team. "Are you kidding? Quenton Meeks is an absolute stud!" I exclaimed. "Two years from now you and I will be sitting here in the stands of the 2018 Rose Bowl, and we'll see him for what he is -- Stanford's next great cornerback."

It was a pointless conversation, but perhaps my words had carried down to Mr. Meeks's ears. On 3rd and 3 from the Stanford 36, Meeks lined up across from slot receiver Matt VandeBerg and twitched before the snap as if ready to pounce. VandeBerg ran a soft out pattern to the sideline, but it was far too soft. Meeks saw what was coming immediately, jumped the route, and snagged Beathard's pass at the 34. Like McCaffrey's touchdown on the game's opening snap, this play was a touchdown as soon as the ball hit Meeks's hands, so I must confess to missing part of his sprint down the sidelines. While all around me were celebrating, I turned around to punctuate my earlier conversation with the Doubting Thomas behind me. We couldn't speak, of course, what with the bedlam erupting around us, but I pointed at him in triumph, and he admitted defeat, jokingly bowing down in my direction.