If Nick Saban is this relaxed now, it should put every Alabama opponent on edge

The strangest thing happened Wednesday morning at SEC Football Media Days. I went to a Nick Saban press conference, and Story Time with Grandpa Nick broke out.
He started off by telling us what he did on his summer vacation, touring Italy with wife Terry, which was a belated 50th wedding anniversary gift from friends. Thought no one would recognize him there, but “we got ‘Roll Tided’ everywhere we went,” even at the Ferrari plant, and “these cats don’t even speak English.”
Cool story, Daddy-O, tell me more. The only thing missing from his Italian travelogue was a lengthy slideshow of poorly lit snapshots.
Then Coach Saban took over. He talked ball, letting us know Alabama has lots of new players and coaches, per usual, and he’s a big fan of the work fresh offensive coordinator Tommy Rees has done. He touched on the mental game he masters as well as anyone with this bit of wisdom: “Expectations in some way are a premeditated way to create disappointment.”
Translation: You should probably pick Georgia to win the league and LSU to win the West. Please and thank you.
Next thing you knew, he was a kid again, Little Nick standing by the oven watching Grandma Saban bake a cake because “Grandma Saban used to bake the best cakes in the world.” Being Little Nick with a big sweet tooth later satisfied by Little Debbies, he would keep asking, “When is this cake going to be done? When is this cake going to be done?”
The Saban family wisdom provided the answer. “If I don’t let it go through and take it out of the oven too soon,” Grandma said, “it will turn to mush, and it won’t be a really good cake.”
And then Little Nick became Coach Saban again, cakes turned into quarterbacks and the theme of preseason camp emerged for a proud program that is not the reigning SEC or national champion for just the second time in the last nine years. “Make sure we let the cake bake.”
It was at that point that I expected SEC Commissioner Greg Sankey to retake the stage and rip off the imposter’s frighteningly real Saban mask, revealing that the Alabama coach had been doubled, Mission Impossible style, by Lane Kiffin.
Which would have been epic. Instead, after a few more mundane position observations, the real deal seven-time national champion tossed us a few crumbs.
“With that,” he said, “I’ll allow you to ask questions.”
I have one: What did we just witness?
Saban has taken the stage at SEC Media Days 21 times. When he arrived Wednesday, he set a new record with his 16th appearance as the head coach at a single school, one more than the 15 trips by former Tennessee coach Phillip Fulmer and former Georgia coach Mark Richt.
Through the years, the socially awkward introvert at heart always has been interesting while standing at that lectern, although he would do well to retire the tired “thanks for the positive self-gratification you give to a lot of people.”
You’re welcome. No need to thank us. No, really.
What Saban was Wednesday was, more than ever, comfortable. Humble brag about the Ferrari plant comfortable. Wisdom from Grandma Saban comfortable. Tommy Rees is the bomb comfortable.
Comfortable and Nick Saban don’t usually collide in the same sentence. He is a master at the art of making people in his orbit uncomfortable. Players and coaches. Secretaries and compliance directors. Reporters and columnists. All have run across him at times when it was better not to cross his path.
The first time I interviewed him one-on-one in his Alabama office, it was June of 2007, as relaxed a spot on the calendar as a coach could find at that time. He couldn’t have been more interesting and engaging, but he did spend the entire interview rocking back and forth, legs crossed and foot twitching, a wired bundle of energy for whom sitting still was all but impossible.
Sixteen years later, Saban sent off no sparks. He delivered nothing resembling a rant. He didn’t recycle his unsuccessful argument for making last year’s playoff - the betting line - or ask if this is what we want college football to be, starring the bogeyman known as NIL.
He didn’t go full Sam Pittman and review the qualities of a certain beer that neither tastes great nor is less filling but will, as the Arkansas coach noted from experience, “make you burp a lot.” In his own way, though, Saban came across as both lamb and GOAT, unplugged but still in charge, almost eerily serene while facing the possibility of the first three-year streak in his tenure without a natty.
You know what that means? If he’s not raising his voice, he’s probably building a team he likes. If he’s taking time at work to talk about Grandma’s cakes, he, Rees and new-old defensive coordinator Kevin Steele are no doubt cooking up something tasty for Tennessee, LSU and Georgia.
Maybe a little carrot cake. As the kinder, gentler (till it matters) Saban let us know, that’s his favorite kind.