With a speech of sorts in hand, Greg Robinson came prepared to his final press conference, perhaps because there was no more film left to review, because patient faces were waiting in expectancy, not for his answers to game-specific questions but to an explanation of four whole years. This was the chalk-talk of an era.

This was ‘Greg Robinson: Unplugged’ and maybe the 30 or so media members half-expected to walk into the Iocolano-Petty Football Wing conference room and see a stool instead of a podium, with a sole spotlight and a smoking cigarette. Maybe that’s just me.

Beneath the smiles and charm, Robinson has always kept private with his own feelings and emotions, and it’s a wonder where the inevitable frustrated screams and meltdowns have been locked away all this time. In his office or in his soul?

Which is why, I suppose, Robinson’s final press conference was such an attraction. Because there was the possibility of an ultimate opening-up, of the coach spilling his guts after four years of tight-lipped cheeriness, and we were his rubber wall, ready to bounce back any of the things he threw at us. As farewells go, it was as if neither side was quite ready to say goodbye without a last stand.

This was supposed to be a closure conference, but, for the most part, Robinson stayed true to his stoic self, defiant to reveal too much to inquiries about regrets, disappointments and do-overs. Instead, he came to plead for his job again, bizarrely maintaining his optimism for the program with him at the head of it.

‘I’d like that last year,’ Robinson said, referring to the final year of the five-year deal he signed in 2005.

In the background, there is the hum of a coaching search already well in progress. Syracuse Director of Athletics Daryl Gross could announce the replacement any minute. Who will follow in Robinson’s barely-worn shoes?

There’s Randy Edsall, of course, the familiar choice with Syracuse blood and a lot of football knowledge underneath his buzzcut. Despite his denials, he remains a fan favorite because he can win – his Connecticut team has outscored Syracuse 115-42 in the last four years – and his no-nonsense approach contrasts well with the current regime. But at what cost would he jump to a rival neighbor? Did Gross burn that bridge when he didn’t look closely enough at Edsall in 2005?

There’s Skip Holtz, at East Carolina, the prince of college football in September (with wins over West Virginia and Virginia Tech), but an 8-4 record has stifled his prospects a bit. He’s the son of a legend – and a good friend of Gross – but is he too risky, at age 44, to be bumped into the Big East? Does his name shine brighter than his ability?

And, sure, there’s Turner Gill. He seems right. He’s young and charismatic, lifting Buffalo to respectability (which is something). He can relate to players, having been a black-shirt at Nebraska not too long ago, and he’ll draw recruits. He’s not flashy or steady, but right in between, a coach on the precipice of stardom or status quo.

But is he too boring a name for SU’s AD? Would Gill make the splash Gross always seems to be looking for?

New names seem to be brought in every day. Candidates appear out of thin air – or Philadelphia, where even alumni like Donovan McNabb throw their clout into the ring. He told The Sporting News he wants Kevin Rogers, just as his former teammate Rob Konrad asked for Steve Addazio, just as the message boards lit up for Lloyd Carr. The carousel spins on.Wednesday morning, Gross may find a new application on his desk, from Robinson, who said Tuesday he’d like to re-apply for his job. It was tough to tell whether or not he was serious.

In his 16-minute opening statement, he spoke at length about his deep affection for the community and the university, the support he’s gotten from his family and the team, and why he’s always so blindingly positive about the program.

‘I’m telling you, that’s the way I see things,’ Robinson said. ‘And let me tell you this, I believe you have to see it like that. Every day you have to find some …’

And then he looked down at the paper in hand and proceeded to read a story. It was ‘The Little Engine That Could.’ Robinson, part jovial and part professorial, was trying to encapsulate his beliefs through the symbol of a children’s tale.

‘What did that train say?’ he asked a media member, rhetorically.

It was an odd way to end his Syracuse career, after 10 wins in four years and a firing that came, to many, far too late. Perhaps Robinson was playing around with the media, expecting us to take the metaphor and twist it into some fantastical concluding vision, like ‘Robinson was always the train that couldn’t,’ or something along those lines.

As if it was that easy.

No, Robinson ended his time at Syracuse in much the same way he’s always been: confident in tomorrow, irresponsive to the lingering questions about yesterday.

Zach Schonbrun is the sports columnist for The Daily Orange, where his columns appeared every Tuesday. He can be reached at zsschonb@syr.edu.

Published on December 2, 2008 at 12:00 pm