Steve "@k9cane" Kim doesn't throw this kind of compliment around. So when the man who knows our history better than anybody says Malachi Toney could be the greatest Cane of all time, you should pay attention.
K9 has a rule about all-time lists: Nobody goes on one until their eligibility is up or they've moved on.
He's breaking his own rule here, because in just a season and a half in Toney's name is littered in the top ten in just about every receiving category we keep.
Physically, nobody in our program has ever moved like Andre but he didn't become a primetime player until year three, Michael Irvin redshirted and Kevin Williams took about three years to make his mark. Eddie Brown came closest to an instant impact, and he was an older JUCO guy. Toney was doing it in his first game against Notre Dame.
He's also not just a slot receiver. He runs it, blocks, throws it, and returns punts.
Even when his receiving numbers were quiet last year, he found a way: the long return before halftime against SMU, the game-winner against Texas A&M, the vintage night against Ole Miss. When we finally fed him in the national championship game, you saw what happened to the offense. His numbers are understated, not inflated.
Then there's the part that doesn't fit on a stat sheet. Steve calls him a "one-man Beatles." Kids are reclassifying just to get one year with him.
Steve compares it to watching Jordan: plenty of guys hit an 18-footer, but when Jordan hit one the building sounded different. He's heard it at Stanford, at Clemson and against Pitt. An eight-yard hook from Toney gets a different noise. People come to see him as much as they come to see the Hurricanes.
The line we keep coming back to: Jeremiah Smith broke our hearts, and Malachi Toney repaired them. When we look back on what Mario Cristobal is building, Toney belongs right next to Cam Ward and Rueben Bain. Maybe above them, because he's the guy who told South Florida it's OK to stay home again.
And the culture around him matters. Asked to make each other's Heisman case, Darian Mensah talked about Toney's eagerness to block for his teammates. Toney's answer on Mensah: "He's just an unbelievable player. Put the ball wherever it needs to be." That's not a quarterback and receiver fighting over targets. That's a locker room.
Where does this leave Toney? Steve has him headed for Heisman finalist at minimum and says he should win the Biletnikoff. Two more years like this and he's on any Miami Mount Rushmore. Nobody in our lifetime has made this case this early.
The full conversation with K9 is on the CanesInsight YouTube channel, including the Belichick breakdown and a lot more Toney talk than we could fit here. Subscribe so you don't miss Steve every Thursday.
K9 has a rule about all-time lists: Nobody goes on one until their eligibility is up or they've moved on.
He's breaking his own rule here, because in just a season and a half in Toney's name is littered in the top ten in just about every receiving category we keep.
Physically, nobody in our program has ever moved like Andre but he didn't become a primetime player until year three, Michael Irvin redshirted and Kevin Williams took about three years to make his mark. Eddie Brown came closest to an instant impact, and he was an older JUCO guy. Toney was doing it in his first game against Notre Dame.
He's also not just a slot receiver. He runs it, blocks, throws it, and returns punts.
Even when his receiving numbers were quiet last year, he found a way: the long return before halftime against SMU, the game-winner against Texas A&M, the vintage night against Ole Miss. When we finally fed him in the national championship game, you saw what happened to the offense. His numbers are understated, not inflated.
Then there's the part that doesn't fit on a stat sheet. Steve calls him a "one-man Beatles." Kids are reclassifying just to get one year with him.
Steve compares it to watching Jordan: plenty of guys hit an 18-footer, but when Jordan hit one the building sounded different. He's heard it at Stanford, at Clemson and against Pitt. An eight-yard hook from Toney gets a different noise. People come to see him as much as they come to see the Hurricanes.
The line we keep coming back to: Jeremiah Smith broke our hearts, and Malachi Toney repaired them. When we look back on what Mario Cristobal is building, Toney belongs right next to Cam Ward and Rueben Bain. Maybe above them, because he's the guy who told South Florida it's OK to stay home again.
And the culture around him matters. Asked to make each other's Heisman case, Darian Mensah talked about Toney's eagerness to block for his teammates. Toney's answer on Mensah: "He's just an unbelievable player. Put the ball wherever it needs to be." That's not a quarterback and receiver fighting over targets. That's a locker room.
Where does this leave Toney? Steve has him headed for Heisman finalist at minimum and says he should win the Biletnikoff. Two more years like this and he's on any Miami Mount Rushmore. Nobody in our lifetime has made this case this early.
The full conversation with K9 is on the CanesInsight YouTube channel, including the Belichick breakdown and a lot more Toney talk than we could fit here. Subscribe so you don't miss Steve every Thursday.
