Sad tale of the Dawg: Feeling that it's time to go

TUCSON, Ariz. — As Tyrone Willingham exited the Arizona Stadium field after another lifeless performance, a woman sang to him.

"So long! Farewell!" she caroled with great ridicule, to the melody of an old number from "The Sound of Music."

The coach ignored her and disappeared into the locker room.

Another night. Another embarrassing loss. Another reason to end the misery now.

In the latest installment of dismay, the Washington football team lost 48-14 to Arizona with the resistance of an unlocked door and insisted afterward that redemption could be had. At 0-5 now, the Huskies still look at their seven remaining games as an opportunity instead of a slow countdown to destruction. As new owners of the nation's longest losing streak (seven games), they still dream of accomplishing more than a coaching search.

"We can play better," Willingham claimed.

Watching the beleaguered coach huff through humiliation reminded me of the last days of my childhood pet, Benji. He was a toy poodle, and for the unoriginal name, blame my parents. After my brother and I left home, Benji turned old and jinxed. My mother tripped over him once, dropping her coffee on him, scalding a patch of his black fur. A few years later, the neighbor ran his truck over Benji, breaking his pelvis.

During his final years, I would visit home, notice Benji graying and limping and hairless in one spot and think to myself, "Lord, please take him."

Which is the only way to feel about Willingham right now.

Because of his own mismanagement, he's a suffering Dawg, and every game he limps onto the field, overmatched and overwhelmed, dying slowly and cruelly.

Lord, please take him.

End the pitiful play. End the trampled looks on the players' faces. End the fan outrage.

Fire Willingham for his own good.

For his health. For his sanity. For his family, which cannot be fully shielded from the public rancor.

This is an ugly situation that, barring a miracle, will only get worse. The season isn't half over, but we've seen enough. We know Willingham won't be back next season. From the season opener until now, we've seen no tangible improvement. The Huskies have been competitive in only two of the five games, and in one of those, Stanford held a two-touchdown lead most of the way.

Nevertheless, new athletic director Scott Woodward keeps saying he will let Willingham coach the remainder of this season. It would take something dramatic to change his mind. Despite the cries for a firing, Woodward wants to do what he thinks is right and fair and what he thinks will keep the players focused on both their athletic and academic responsibilities.

"It's stability," Woodward said. "You don't want to have your team orphaned."

But don't mistake the AD for being satisfied.

"The score speaks for itself," he said. "It was not a good performance."

If there is to be a change before the season ends, it would probably require Willingham resigning. And he's too proud and resolute to quit.

He's showing too much desperation, however. Willingham is now making some inexcusable personnel decisions.

In this game, Willingham blew the redshirt seasons of two more true freshmen, running back Terrance Dailey and wide receiver Cody Bruns. Most egregious was the decision on Bruns, who entered the game when the score was 38-7. In all, the Huskies have played 12 true freshmen this season, and only Chris Polk, the running back who was injured early in the year, is eligible to redshirt now.

On a team going nowhere, that's a huge lack of foresight. The Huskies could've played this poorly with some of the lightly regarded upperclassmen on the roster. Burning playing time for so many freshmen, especially the two forced into this loss, represents a double-whammy of frustration.

Lord, please take him.

The message boards are on fire. There's fear of the Huskies going 0-12. Willingham is sure to encounter more harsh criticism.

I asked Woodward if the ugliness toward Willingham concerned him. He nodded.

"It does, but Ty's an adult and he's a big boy and he's ready to take this vitriol on," Woodward said.

So he doesn't expect his coach to succumb to pressure and resign.

"I would be shocked if he did," Woodward said. "But I have been shocked before."

Every time you figure the Huskies have reached rock bottom, they fall lower. They don't even qualify as floundering anymore. There's not a word in the dictionary adequate enough to explain the bad state of this program. These next seven games will seem like seven years.

Lord, please take him.

Jerry Brewer: 206-464-2277 or jbrewer@seattletimes.com. For more columns and the Extra Points blog, visit seattletimes.com/sports