Who is Kevin Craft?

During the first half of UCLA’s game against Tennessee Monday night, I was sure the Bruins’ Kevin Craft was the worst Division I quarterback in existence. Now I’m convinced he’s Batman.

After a dismal four-interception first half, enter the genius of Norm Chow. Somehow he turned the third-string Craft into effin’ John Elway. It appeared the 22-year-old had led the Bruins on a game-winning drive in the fourth quarter. He was 6-for-6 with 71 yards on a march that gave the UCLAN a 17-14 lead.

Then Tennessee responded with a TD of their own. What’d Craft do? Drove them down the field in less than two minutes for another go-ahead score, this time for a 24-21 advantage. While the Vols eventually forced OT, UCLA won after Tennessee missed a chip-shot field goal in the extra frame.

But, in the first half, I was convinced Craft was the second coming of, well, someone really effin’ bad. In fact, I had to rewrite most of this entry because of the amazing turnaround. During the first two quarters the JUCO transfer looked lost. Confused. Out of place.

He constantly threw late, early or into double-teams … sometimes all three at once. During the closing seconds of the first half, UCLA first-year head coach Rick Neuheisel took a gamble, which was to see if his “Division I” quarterback could drive a mere 40 yards in more than a minute with two timeouts.

The answer? Eh, no. How about a grossly underthrown pass that was taken 61 yards to the house to give the Vols a 14-7 halftime lead.

But Craft wasn’t suppose to be in this position. After UCLA lost both Patrick Cowan (knee) and Ben Olson to injuries, he was called upon to lead the mighty Bruins … and spare us to death for two quarters, then shock us during the third and fourth.

But now, at least for a week, Kevin Craft is on top of the world. It’s got to be one of the single biggest in-game turnarounds ever. First half: 66 total yards, four interceptions. Second half: 18-of-25 for 193 yards, one touchdown, no turnovers.

And with that said, I wish we had Gerald Jones. Damn that smarmy, slimy Phil Fulmer.