ANN ARBOR, Mich. – The first-year coach of the historic national power had that blindsided look on his face. He was trying, fruitlessly, to explain an inexcusable home loss to a weak team from a lesser conference.

You mean Michigan's Rich Rodriguez after a gut-punch humiliation at the hands of Toledo?

Oh sure, him too.

"About 4 a.m. [Sunday morning] I kept turning over, couldn't sleep, and my wife Rita said, 'You know, Nick lost to Louisiana-Monroe last year, and look how that's changed,' " Rodriguez said Monday.

Nick is Nick Saban, who was in the same position a year ago at Alabama as Rodriguez is this week. Saban's first season remaking an ancient power had descended into a series of distressing losses, one more frustrating than the next. The UL-Monroe defeat was enough to make at least some once-worshipful fans wonder about their head coach.

Saban was so mentally shot he compared the loss to Pearl Harbor and September 11. It was meant as an analogy – an example of how sometimes

DALLAS – The crimson side of the Cotton Bowl was mostly empty, Sooner fans shuffling off into the sunlight, wondering exactly where their national championship dreams had gone.

They had the players, they had the lead and they had Mack Brown right where they often had him, spinning around on the other sideline unable to stop the Oklahoma onslaught.

And then they didn't. Texas used busted plays, bumbled coverage and a whole lot of hope to storm back for a 45-35 victory and a celebration in a half-empty stadium. Heck, Texas beat them like they used to beat Texas.

It's one thing for OU to lose when the Longhorns had Vince Young going for them. The Sooner fans could begrudgingly accept that. It's entirely another watching the 'Horns win due to better heart, better toughness and, indeed, better coaching, of all things.

Mack Brown, who once had this game work like an albatross on his reputation, knew the feeling of a half-empty stadium, of fans grumbling about bad decisions and silly

In an effort to keep Adam Jones from screwing up the team, his career and, quite possibly, the life of some bystander in the Dallas night, Cowboys owner Jerry Jones hired the cornerback a four-man security detail, including a driver. Then he barred him from frequenting potentially problematic clubs – strip, night or otherwise.

Considering Pacman's past trouble – six arrests and one banishing from the NFL – if you were daring enough to gamble on the guy, this seemed like a good idea. Call it insurance on the season.

You'd think Pacman would feel a pang of gratitude for an owner who gave him another chance to earn a fat paycheck. Not that Jerry Jones did it due to his humanitarian heart. He needed another anchor on defense to win the Super Bowl.

Under those circumstances, 99 percent of people would behave. The chauffer and security and list of do not enter establishments were just in case Pacman was the other one percent.

According to a Dallas police report, at 1:30 a.m. Wednesday,

Seth Petruzelli, after going from nobody to national celebrity for punching out Kimbo Slice, went on the radio Monday. He delivered a shot potentially more powerful than anything he threw Saturday.

He said his original plan against Kimbo was to get him to the ground and exploit his weak wrestling skills and submission defense. It made more sense than trading punches with a street brawler who outweighed him by 30 pounds. Petruzelli said he changed his mind though.

"The promoters kind of hinted to me, and they gave me the money to stand and trade with him," he told "The Monsters in Orlando" radio show. "They didn’t want me to take him down, let’s just put it that way. It was worth my while to try to stand up and punch with him."

The quote spoke of an attempt to if not rig the fight, then make it favorable for Slice, the main star and cash cow of the EliteXC promotion.

Such an action would be a disaster for mixed martial arts as it attempts to convince mainstream audiences it isn't

SUNRISE, Fla. – The legend of Kimbo Slice was built by beating bums in boat yards and back alleys not far from here. It came crashing down Saturday courtesy of a quick punch from a pink-haired journeyman giving up two inches in height, four in reach and 30 pounds in muscle and might.

One simple shot sent Slice to the canvas and from there some guy named Seth Petruzelli needed just 12 punches and 14 seconds to put an end (we hope) to one of the great sporting charades of all time.

It was just a matter of time before Kimbo got exposed. He was little more than a character out of central casting, a bunch of addictive YouTube videos and a lot of insane hype by CBS, which made him a headliner before he made himself a fighter.

He was the Kimbo the Cash Machine, everyone lining up to exploit the lie that this was the baddest man on earth as long as he could walk through hand-picked tomato cans.

Only this time his match with 44-year-old Ken Shamrock, who hadn't won a fight in over four years,

Kimbo Slice doesn't have much on the line when he fights Saturday.

Well, other than the very existence of the promotion he fights for – the struggling EliteXC. Not to mention the short-term future of mixed martial arts on broadcast television, since CBS could pull the plug. And, of course, his earning power that comes mainly from perception and personality, not any actual body of work. At least not yet.

A loss risks everything, since winding up flat on your back doesn't make much of a Nike commercial or a future as a pay-per-view draw.

In terms of competitive excellence, Kimbo Slice vs. Ken Shamrock in Fort Lauderdale, Fla. live on CBS isn't much. In terms of importance in the brief history of MMA, it may wind up significant.

While it's unlikely EliteXC, or any other league, can ever mount a serious challenge to the UFC's immense popularity and market share, the possibility is non-existent if Kimbo loses.

EliteXC's entire business model hangs on whether Slice, who gained fame from

Alonzo Mourning's new book "Resilience: Faith Focus, Triumph" with Dan Wetzel.

This is an excerpt of NBA star Alonzo Mourning's new book "Resilience: Faith Focus, Triumph" with Dan Wetzel. The book details Mourning's rise from foster care to NBA stardom before kidney disease changed everything.

The kid wouldn't eat. Not a bite. There was nothing his father could do. Doctors, nurses, and even fellow patients tried and got nowhere. For almost two weeks, no food. "I think he was giving up," said Brian Mossbarger of his ten-year- old son, Zach. Of all the setbacks in a lifetime of setbacks, this was the most crushing for the father to watch.

And this from a dad who found Zach unresponsive at the tender age of three weeks old, rushed him to a small- town Ohio hospital, had doctors set up a medical helicopter to a bigger facility in Toledo, and was told, brutally, "Don't expect him to survive the airlift."

Zach did survive, but his was a difficult life. He was in and out of hospitals,

CHARLOTTE, N.C. – Carolina Panthers quarterback Jake Delhomme suffered ligament damage late in the 2006 season, followed by an elbow injury last year. During that stretch, the Panthers went a miserable 9-12.

There were self-destructive losses, agonizing mediocrity and, of course, a desperation quartet of fill-in quarterbacks: Chris Weinke, David Carr, Vinny Testaverde and Matt Moore.

For a team that had been to the Super Bowl after the 2003 season, the NFC title game after 2005 and had a 6-5 record going into the game Delhomme was initially injured against Philadelphia, it was a disaster. There was no bright side. With no Delhomme, there was no chance.

"We did all right with what we had," linebacker Jon Beason offered as a defense.

It won't make much of a marketing slogan, but give Beason credit for trying. The struggles of the past can be laughed off at this point.

Here was Delhomme, back from Tommy John surgery pitching the ball all over Bank of America Stadium on Sunday. Here was