After another heartbreaking loss, will James Franklin and Penn State ever get over the hump?
MIAMI GARDENS, Fla. — James Franklin seemed destined to break the skid.
His skid, to be more specific: 12 consecutive losses to top-five opponents, a miserable eight-year drought.
But the 11th-year Penn State coach was on the way to snapping that streak. He was en route to ending the nasty stretch, to quieting the critics, to shutting down the talk.
Here in South Florida, inside Hard Rock Stadium against, of all teams, one of the biggest brands in the sport, Franklin’s skid seemed over and done with. His team led 10-0 in the second quarter, 24-17 in the fourth quarter and held offensive possession in the final seconds of a tied game.
And then, in a nightmare of a play, his quarterback, Drew Allar, threw one of the most costly interceptions in College Football Playoff history.
Skid continues. Streak extended.
A few seconds after that late-game turnover, Mitch Jeter’s 41-yard field goal split the uprights to send Notre Dame to the national championship game in Atlanta — 27-24 victors of a rock fight of a football game.
The skid is now 13.
And this one —in the national semifinal, one step away from a national title appearance — perhaps stings the most.
Afterward, tears flowed. Voices cracked.
Allar explained his brutal interception. In a tied game with 33 seconds left and at his own 28-yard line, he danced around in the pocket. His first read was covered. His second read was covered. And then, off his back foot, he hurled a pass toward receiver Omari Evans.
He meant to throw it more at Evans’ feet. Instead, the ball floated up and wide into the arms of Notre Dame cornerback Christian Gray.
A pick to top all picks.
An interception for the ages.
A game-changing, jaw-dropping turnover — in the original home of the “turnover chain,” no less.
“Should have thrown it away,” Allar said through tears.
The play is a microcosm of Penn State’s offensive passing game in general. It was a struggle. Allar was attempting to complete his first pass to a wide receiver in the game.
That’s no exaggeration. It’s real. The Nittany Lions, in four quarters of football and 23 pass attempts, did not complete a pass to a wideout.
Liam Clifford, Harrison Wallace, Evans, none of them could gain enough separation against the Irish’s brutally tight man coverage. They got pushed around, out-toughed.
This wasn’t the first time, either. Penn State didn’t complete a pass to a receiver in a loss to Ohio State in November.
It’s a bugaboo for the program under Franklin’s leadership — not enough game-changing wideouts on the edge, not enough speed, not enough playmakers.
Franklin didn’t hide from it: “That’s one of the storylines of the game,” he said afterward, attributing the struggles more to Notre Dame’s press coverage than anything else.
“We tried a couple early on and weren’t able to convert them — tightly contested coverage,” he said.
Allar spread his 12 completions to three tight ends and two running backs. To receivers, he misfired at times high and low, underthrew balls and overthrew them. In fact, he tossed two interceptions in the end zone, both overturned due to Notre Dame penalties (holding and pass interference).
It’s time to give Allar more weapons on the outside. Like an NFL franchise spends in the offseason, the Nittany Lions, in this new revenue-sharing era of college football, need to spend on wideouts. Hit the portal. Get out of the checkbook.
That does seem to be the plan.
During an interview in November, Penn State athletic director Pat Kraft acknowledged that, in this murky NIL era, Ohio State and others had a “leg up.” But, he said, in the impending era of direct compensation, Penn State will go “toe to toe with them.”
“I think it’s our time,” Kraft told Yahoo Sports then.
Penn State was so close, oh-so close, to a title-game appearance.
A few seconds away. A few points shy.
And now, for another offseason in State College, the critiques of Franklin’s streak will continue.
He’s lost 11 consecutive games against teams named Ohio State (8) and Michigan (3).
That skid against top-five teams dates back to the lone win over the Buckeyes in his 11 seasons: a 24-21 victory over No. 2 Ohio State in 2016. The skid includes, too, a defeat to Iowa and the loss in the Big Ten championship game to Oregon.
It’s one excruciating defeat after another. Of the 13, six have come by a single score.
Those close to Franklin describe him as calculated and smart, an ultra-competitive person who flirted with other big-brand jobs over the years — think USC and Florida State — to leverage them for more resources at Penn State in an effort to compete with the Ohio States and the Michigans and the… Notre Dames.
He’s very much aware of his surroundings, at times rattled by headlines and comments directed at him and his program. But his team’s culture, those in Happy Valley say, is elite. He cares about his players. He’s passionate about them away from the field — academics, future development, etc.
As his players left the post-game news conference, Franklin rose to hug them, wrapping his arms around running back Nick Singleton and Allar.
“Proud of you guys,” he told them. “Love you.”
Not long afterward, Franklin was reminiscing a bit about suddenly being the “old” guy in college football, the “dinosaur,” he called himself. He was specifically speaking about the evolution of college football, the professionalization of the industry.
He gave a long, winding and impassioned comment about how, at Penn State, he wants to keep the relationships of the old way. It’s about people, he says. It’s about players.
“We’ve got a throwback program with throwback uniforms,” he said. “It’s about the guys. I understand the transfer portal and NIL are a part of college football and we’ll embrace those things, but I want this to be more than transactional. I want it to be transformational.”
He began to shed tears before the news conference moderator saved him from choking up.
It’s not easy, he said, to come into the news conference after a game like that. It’s not easy to talk about such a troubling defeat, about blowing a big lead.
It’s not easy to talk about that skid.