Meyer has taken Sugar Bowl from his players

The media's initial reaction to Urban Meyer's weekend decision to step down, then step back, then kinda sorta step to the side at the University of Florida was one of universal praise. Here was a man who had a grip on his priorities, a man who cared more about his personal health and family's well being than a job that has suffocated and ruined the lives of hundreds of men before him.

"I just have to make sure I have my priorities straight," Meyer gravely said Sunday, at a press conference originally scheduled to discuss his team and the Sugar Bowl, but which ended up being about Meyer, his life, his family and his decision. "A lot of times, coaches don't have their priorities straight."

Like a Greek chorus of admirers and sycophants, media members far and wide collectively nodded their heads and gave Meyer kudos all around. His decision to step away was viewed as brave and selfless. Meyer noted he'd had a 30-year coaching career crammed into nine years. All over the country, we read about a man — a father and husband — who was doing the right thing. He was making a bold decision, stepping away from a life of high stress and even higher dollars, and putting other priorities in front of a job.

Call me the contrarian, but the whole thing confuses me. Sure, I think Meyer's decision — or quasi-decision — is both admirable and courageous. But, the timing of the situation is just, well, curious.

Piecing it all together, Meyer was with his family on Christmas, has been having health issues of late, and decided he'd had enough. He didn't want to think about another Christmas under such circumstances. He announces the retirement, a day later watches his team practice, realizes he can't turn away from this family — and while the team is on the Tarmac about to head to New Orleans, he announces he's no longer retiring, but rather, is taking an indefinite leave of absence.

Somewhere, Brett Favre was nodding his head in approval.

Once upon a time, the 2010 Sugar Bowl was about an undefeated Big East champion Cincinnati squad going up against COLLEGE FOOTBALL's most successful program of the past five years. This was about a "microwave dynasty" from the Midwest going up against one of college football's most impressive senior classes to ever step on a field.

Now? It's all about Meyer. The selfless coach who is being praised far and wide this week for choosing others over himself, is now the man solely in the spotlight this week.

Somewhere in the background are Tim Tebow, Ryan Stamper, Riley Cooper, Brandon Spikes, and the 15 other Florida seniors playing the last game of their wonderful college careers. This is a senior class that has won two BCS Championships, played in three SEC championship games, and four January bowl games. This week should have been their coronation; a celebration of their athletic and academic achievements as student athletes. Four years — a rare feat these days — spent excelling in the classroom and on the field.

Instead, it's about their 45-year-old coach.

Could Meyer have not waited until a day or two after the Sugar Bowl for all of this? Again, I don't know all the particulars or the details of that Christmas Day scene in the Meyer household or the severity of the coach's health issues. But the timing of the coach's "I'm out … OK, I'm only kinda out!" waffling over the weekend seems to have taken a bit of the spotlight from a week that should have been about his players and their fine careers.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the field is a Cincinnati team whose coach left them for greener pastures just a few days after their regular season ended. Brian Kelly abandoned his team and is already on the recruiting trail for Notre Dame. Interim coach Jeff Quinn is headed to Western New York to coach Buffalo immediately after Friday night's game. Coach-in-waiting Butch Jones is hovering somewhere on the perimeter, as well. He'll probably be coaching somewhere else in a few years, too.

Coaches, coaches, and more coaches.

Again, somewhere, some place, are the Cincinnati players. Remember them? The kids? The ones who found the will and the gumption to come back from 21 points down on the road in Pittsburgh to win their second straight conference title and complete an undefeated season? Those guys? The media rolled their eyes and laughed at Cincinnati senior Mardy Gilyard's disappointment and public disapproval of Coach Kelly's decision to leave Cincinnati. "How naïve! It's a business! What doesn't Gilyard understand?" we chuckled in unison.

But maybe the Cincinnati star was on to something. "He went for the money," Gilyard told The Associated Press days after Kelly's decision was announced. "I'm fairly disgusted with the situation, that they let it last this long. I don't like it," Gilyard added. "I feel there was a little lying in the thing. I feel like he'd known this the whole time. Everybody knows Notre Dame's got the money. I kind of had a gut feeling he was going to stay just because he told me he was going to be here."

We shook our heads at Gilyard. We called him naïve and foolish. Didn't he understand how it all works? What's next — is he going to ask why he didn't see Santa Claus come down his chimney?

Yet, in the same breath, we pat Meyer on the back and applaud from the highest mountaintops.

There's a rather intriguing football game to be played in New Orleans on Friday night. Tim Tebow's playing in his last collegiate game. Gilyard, a Florida native, is playing against the team he grew up watching and rooting for as a kid in Bunnell, Fla. These are wonderful and inspiring subplots and storylines.

But between then and now, all you'll hear about is Meyer, his looming decision, the coaching carousel in Cincinnati, and the various "between the lines" press conference messages that will be conveyed throughout the week.

The student athletes are taking a back seat to the coaches. It's an all too common refrain in college sports.

And that's a shame.

Could Meyer not have waited until Saturday for all of this? Or after a two-week R&R vacation to Cabo San Lucas?

Instead, he's put offensive coordinator and current interim coach Steve Addazio in a curious position, athletic director Jeremy Foley in a tough spot and the entire Florida Gators Nation in some rare and bizarre version of college football purgatory.

Worst of all, he put his nineteen seniors in the shadows in a week that should have been theirs.

I guess that's just the nature of college sports today. Who are we kidding? It's about the coaches, not the players. It always is.

Call me gullible. Call me naive. Hell, call me Mardy Gilyard.

But I think that's pretty crummy.