Though much of my work is done via the written word these days, I come from the broadcast discipline, as some of you may already know.

I went to college with the goal of making a career in sports television. I wanted to be Bob Costas. I grew up watching him anchor Football Night in America on NBC, and I wanted to emulate him. I didn’t have aspirations of being the Electric Big-Voice Guy (a la the indomitable Kevin Harlan) or the Hot-Take Machine (a la Colin Cowherd). Instead, I wanted to be the guy that sat at the desk, called highlights and gave updates, moderated conversations among respected analysts, conducted compelling interviews on occasion, and generally “steered” a national studio show on live TV. Oklahoma’s own Dari Nowkhah, a phenomenal broadcaster whom I’ve come to know personally, is another highly successful example of what I consider to be the Costas phenotype.

For a variety of reasons, I haven’t followed the path I initially charted. I’m quite happy to be where I am today, but things certainly didn’t turn out the way I drew them up in my 18-year-old mind. That said, in my undergraduate days, I was still hell-bent on the pursuit of a career in network broadcasting, and I made it a point to learn everything I possibly could about the execution of a live broadcast. I wanted to understand every single detail of sports TV production, and I wanted to be able to perform every single job that exists within a broadcast crew. And by the time I walked at graduation, I could indeed do a little bit of everything, which has served us well at OUInsider these last few years in terms of diversifying our multimedia content.

Broadcast engineering is a complex game. There’s video and there’s audio involved, and it requires a lot of equipment, coordination and technical know-how. Setting up for a live broadcast, especially a multi-camera broadcast, can be tedious — and then you have to actually execute the broadcast, which is a challenge in itself. There are a hundred different things that could go wrong in the engineering process, and if an issue arises, you have to understand how to fix it. As I became acquainted with the ins and outs of broadcast engineering, one of the very first experiential lessons that I learned is that if you have a problem, you have to isolate it.

What does this mean practically? Let’s say that one of your analysts’ handheld microphones isn’t working. Along the signal chain, there's a number of things that might be the origin of the issue. So first you try a different microphone. Then you try a different XLR cable. Then you try a different input on your audio interface. Then you go further and further down the rabbit hole, checking each box in turn, until you’re able to determine what’s causing the problem. You change one variable at a time until you figure out the variable that’s causing the problem.

As per usual, I’m sure you all can begin to see where I’m going with this.

There’s one key difference between technology and football, though. Technology is binary. There is no subjectivity involved. Either something works (okay, great) or it doesn’t (okay, we gotta fix it). But subjectivity is baked into the pie when it comes to football. It’s why you have a message-board membership, and it’s frankly why I have a job. If it were as simple as 1’s and 0’s, there wouldn’t be anything to debate or discuss. We all evaluate things from our own unique perspective, and we’re not all bound to agree on what we see. Hell, Dillon Gabriel underscored this reality better than any player in recent memory. Some Oklahoma fans were ruthless defenders of the guy, and some wanted him sent to Guantanamo Bay. We all watched the same Dillon Gabriel, but perception made all the difference.

You can always isolate an issue with technology; you can’t always isolate an issue in football. I don’t know if replacing Jackson Arnold with Michael Hawkins will suddenly revitalize the program and kick OU into fifth gear. I’m not convinced it is as simple as that. But what I do know is that if you’re trying to isolate the issue, it’s pretty clear where that process needs to start.

Jackson Arnold committed three turnovers in the first half last night. There is no blame to be cast anywhere else; Arnold alone was solely responsible for all three turnovers. He did not do much of anything to improve Oklahoma’s chances of winning the football game, and in fact proved to be a detriment in that regard. In order for the Sooners to stay afloat in their first season of SEC play, they don’t need a quarterback who can turn in a Herculean performance every Saturday. They just need a quarterback who isn’t going to send the train skittering off the tracks. In general, Oklahoma’s defense appears more than capable enough of carrying this team to victory. And that’s perhaps what is most frustrating about Arnold’s tailspin. There isn’t much being asked of him. He doesn’t have to be Baker Mayfield or Kyler Murray or Caleb Williams. All he has to do is keep the ball out of harm’s way, make the easy throws and hit on a deep shot every now and again.

Yet Arnold is incapable of doing the bare minimum right now, and it isn’t for lack of physical ability. He’s in a mental rut. Can any quarterback truly succeed behind an Oklahoma offensive line that’s playing this poorly? That remains to be seen, but the offensive line isn’t the reason Arnold gifted the football to Tennessee three times.

The season’s at a crossroads for Oklahoma. There’s a major get-right opportunity coming up against an Auburn team that’s just flat-out bad. If it’s as simple as isolating the issue for this OU program, we’ll know pretty soon. Keegan-Michael Key, take it away…

— Oklahoma’s rushing offense is pathetic right now. It doesn’t strike fear into the hearts of the opposition; in fact, it doesn’t even strike discomfort into their hearts. And it starts with Seth Littrell, as he himself acknowledged last night. Inside zone simply wasn’t working. Yet Littrell went back to the well, time and again, trying to make inside zone happen. Jovantae Barnes and Gavin Sawchuk combined for 10 carries, and those 10 carries resulted in a total of 10 yards. Before exiting with an injury, Taylor Tatum was once again the only running back that really flashed some juice, as he turned three totes into 14 yards. Milquetoast and definition-of-insanity playcalling aside, I’m not sure you can count on Oklahoma to be able to consistently run the football behind this offensive line. They might have some success against a team like Auburn or LSU, but when pitted against a team with some legit talent up front, they’ll have to get real creative if they want to establish a threat on the ground. This offense is one-dimensional right now, and that dimension is Michael Hawkins. He is the only thing that lends any semblance of excitement to this offense right now.

— Kendel Dolby’s injury was horrific, and highlights the reality that Oklahoma is one giant M.A.S.H. unit right now. After the brief Nic Anderson experiment gone wrong, Deion Burks was the only one of Oklahoma’s five top receivers still healthy… and then he left the game in the fourth quarter. Taylor Tatum departed in the first quarter and didn’t return. Gentry Williams isn’t coming back any time soon. Jake Taylor has more ailments than the board game Operation. I don’t even know if Andrel Anthony exists anymore; he’s the Loch Ness Monster of this football team. Fate has crippled the Sooners here in 2024. A 145-pound freshman receiver played 50 snaps out of necessity last night. This is not normal, people, and it should lead to some grace for the entire offensive staff in particular. I’m not saying you can’t be critical of Seth Littrell or Joe Jon Finley or whoever else you might want to hold accountable, but I would implore you to have some recognizance of the circumstances here. The offensive line has had no chance to establish any sort of continuity, and the receiver room is ravaged beyond belief. It’s a disaster, but it’s at least somewhat understandable. If any other team in America lost their top five receivers and had to cycle through eight different starting offensive linemen in the first four games of the season, you would rightfully consider them incapable of living up to whatever preseason expectations had been placed upon them.

— The secondary has to eliminate the big mistakes. They’re infrequent, but when they happen, you feel them. The Vols’ two biggest plays from scrimmage last night came on receptions of 42 yards from Bru McCoy and 66 yards (to the house) from Dont’e Thornton. Both plays were products of inexcusable coverage miscues. SEC quarterbacks are all good enough to take advantage of big-play opportunities when a defensive back allows his man to get a step on him downfield. That can’t become a pattern. Beyond those two chunk gains, Tennessee managed very little through the air. But those two chunk gains both loomed large in the final outcome. Every little detail matters in the SEC. Two plays can make all the difference between victory and defeat — and obviously, Oklahoma probably loses yesterday regardless of whether those two plays happen. But there may very well come a day, in the not-too-distant future, where one could point to such a play as the most consequential moment in a razor-thin loss.