By Josh Katzowitz
When Brian Kelly arrived on the Clifton hill, the city collectively yawned. How many Messiahs had there been in the last decade or so? But then his Bearcats began to do things no University of Cincinnati team had done in over half a century. And they began to do it consistently. By the time they were nationally-ranked and headed for a BCS berth in the Orange Bowl, the university and the city had undergone a wondrous transformation. It might not have been loaves and fishes, but they were sure they had seen something miraculous.
By Josh Katzowitz
When Brian Kelly arrived on the Clifton hill, the city collectively yawned. How many Messiahs had there been in the last decade or so? But then his Bearcats began to do things no University of Cincinnati team had done in over half a century. And they began to do it consistently. By the time they were nationally-ranked and headed for a BCS berth in the Orange Bowl, the university and the city had undergone a wondrous transformation. It might not have been loaves and fishes, but they were sure they had seen something miraculous.