The Bobby Johnson fan in me wants to believe the former Vanderbilt football coach's explanation for his shocking retirement Wednesday afternoon.
"This is a personal decision," Johnson said. "It's about what we (Bobby and his wife Catherine) want to do with our lives. Football is not life, but it's a way of life, and it consumes your life."
Maybe it's that simple. Maybe Johnson woke up earlier this week, thought back to last year's 2-10 record that included no Southeastern Conference wins in eight tries and decided he'd rather do nothing more with the Commodores than win nothing more with the Commodores.
And let's face it, when you're the VU football coach, you know that 0-8 in the NFL's unofficial Southeast Division is always a possibility. Vanderbilt's already suffered that ignominious fate five times since 1996, two coming under Johnson's watch.
But Johnson's also been a head coach at either Furman or VU for the last 16 autumns, which means he's constantly admonished his young men to never give up, to finish the drill, to play the next play, and all those other pithy little sayings that supposedly stir athletes to give 173 percent.
If the head coach is giving up before the first drill is run and the first play is called, what are the rest of the Commodores to think? That they're so bad their own coach can't bear to slog through six more months with them? That watching them attempt to play football the past year made him want to do something, anything with his life besides coaching them? That perhaps they should all immediately decide to do something else with their own lives?
Rugby?
Lacrosse?
Soccer? (Hey, it's at least called football everywhere and Vanderbilt does come closer to scoring once a game than most SEC schools.)
Maybe Johnson really is telling the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, but would it have absolutely destroyed him to suck it up for one more autumn, if only to give the players he gave his word to coach when he signed them their best chance to win?
How could he guide the most forlorn program in the SEC over the past 50 years to its first winning season since 1982 in 2008, winning the school's first bowl game since 1955 in the bargain, then pack it in 19 months later?
Maybe he doesn't just look like Steve Martin. Maybe he really could have starred in "The Jerk."
Two alternative explanations come to mind here, neither devoid of character nor decency.
One is that Johnson, his wife or another family member does have a medical issue that he prefers not to disclose at this time, but one that requires him to step aside. He may have said there was no medical issue, and hopefully there isn't, but his right to privacy on this issue trumps a public's right to know, at least for the time being.
The second possibility is that Johnson began wrestling with this decision weeks, if not months, ago, but didn't want his team to endure a coaching change. So he waited until now, when the school would have little choice but to promote from within, which it did when it elevated offensive line coach Robbie Caldwell to interim head coach.
That assured both an almost seamless transition for the upcoming season, as well as giving the Vandy brass more than four months to find a permanent successor, assuming Caldwell doesn't wow them between now and then.
But what no one should give Johnson the benefit of the doubt on is when he informed his players of this decision. He didn't. He waited until after his press conference to meet with them, despite the fact most of them learned of his retirement much earlier in the day via twitters, tweets, texts, phone calls or old-fashioned whispers.
When the sleazebag Lane Kiffin similarly failed to tell his Tennessee players he was leaving them, the media rightly pounced. Johnson deserves no greater leniency for his failure to communicate.
This isn't to say Johnson was wrong to walk away. Especially if he truly believed he couldn't muster the passion and purpose to fight on. And family should always come first, regardless of how late you decide to place it there.
Said Johnson during his retirement announcement, "Believe me, there's not a great time for a college coach to retire."
Perhaps. But barring an issue of health, there's assuredly better timing than now, less than a month from the start of fall practice, when the coaching mantra of every dreary drill becomes "Quitters never win and winners never quit."