Will we be able to watch McCartney, to the extent that we can locate him, and find out if this is possible? Can we learn exactly what a man can make up for? Or will he satisfy our cynicism and, a year from now, plunge back into coaching?
The last we saw of him, he seemed happy. He seemed delirious. It was after the Fiesta Bowl, Colorado had won, and he was saying a final goodbye to his players, his coaches and supporters. He embraced his wife and his daughter—his young grandchildren played nearby—and said, "A huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders. I am at peace."
And then, as if unburdened of his secret regrets, he and his wife vanished, left for Sedona, or Tahiti. Or maybe just Boulder. How would we know?