Cougars Thorns of Plenty

It was as ugly as a botched flea flicker. It was as rude as a handicapped parking violator.

If these were the final minutes in the UCLA coaching career of Bob Toledo, they were darkly appropriate.

In one corner of the half-empty Rose Bowl Saturday night, fans in Bruin sweatshirts chanted, “Bob must go! Bob must go!”

In another corner, fans wearing Bruin jerseys hung over a tunnel railing and, as Toledo ran inside, chanted, “Goodbye Bob! Goodbye Bob!”

In between the two groups sat USC boosters, moved to silence by either apathy or pity.

It was so nasty during UCLA’s regular season-ending 48-27 loss to Washington State on Saturday, Toledo felt closest to those Trojans.

“I’ve never been involved in a game where so many people wanted you to lose,” Toledo said. “I think the Trojan fans were the only ones who wanted us to win.”

An amazing quote, from an abandoned coach.

Shunned by everyone but the family members and close friends who applauded what could be the final postgame news conference of his seven seasons here, Bob Toledo made one last pitch for his job.

“This was a team picked for sixth in the conference, then when our quarterback Cory Paus went down everyone counted us out,” he said, staring blankly into the cameras and notebooks. “But we finished tied for fourth and we’re going to a bowl game and we have a lot of returning players.”

By the time he had finished, much of the passion had drained from his voice.

Standing several feet away, much of the color had left Athletic Director Dan Guerrero’s face.

What happens now?

Guerrero said Saturday that he is “still evaluating” the coaching position and that he would meet with Toledo early this week.

But if Guerrero is basing his decision on Saturday’s game, as many believed he was, then it is no decision at all.

For a second consecutive game, the Bruins faced an opponent they couldn’t stop, surrounded by fans who couldn’t watch.

The 100 points allowed to USC and Washington State combined is the most given up in consecutive games by a Bruin team in 82 years.

It hasn’t been this bad since their first two years of existence, when they lost to such teams as Hollywood High, the USS Idaho and Whittier.

The number of fans leaving the Rose Bowl by the start of the fourth quarter is also surely a two-game record, the Bruins turning a vibrant football treasure into a pale red graveyard.

With a home schedule next season that does not include a high-profile nonconference opponent, or USC or Washington State, it could get emptier before it gets better.

One of the jobs of any high-profile coach in this entertainment town is to build a team that creates a buzz.

Even though this game had an impact on 13 bowls, not to mention the future of a coach who once came within two wins of a national title, there was no buzz.

The tailgaters were quiet, as if they had parked there by accident.

The fans were so subdued that it took cheerleaders pleading into full-volume microphones to rouse them.

“Eight-clap! C’mon now! EIGHT-CLAP!”

Then there were the Bruin football players. They were the quietest of all.

Again.

“I think all this [firing] talk has had a big effect on the psyche of my team,” Toledo said.

One of his few veterans agreed.

“It was there, it was on our minds, I won’t lie,” said tight end Mike Seidman.

Then it was all over the field, for more than three hours, and it was awful.

Jason Gesser, the Washington State quarterback, was suffering from a sprained ankle so serious, his lower right leg was bundled up like a Sunday newspaper. His limp was so pronounced, it appeared he needed crutches.

Yet the Bruins rarely hit him, barely pressured him, allowed him to throw for two touchdowns and 247 yards while standing in the pocket like a pelican.

“The harder it is for him, the better he seems to do,” said his coach, Mike Price.

For these Bruins, the opposite always seems true.

Since Toledo’s emotional Cotton Bowl win over Texas A&M; in his second season here in 1997, they have consistently crumpled on the final lap.

This is the fourth time in five years that his team has lost its final regular-season game.

During those five years, the team is 8-11 in November and December games.

On Saturday, the Bruins were outgained, 541-307, while allowing the Cougars to score on nearly every conceivable lapse, short and long, quick and endless.

A flanker threw a touchdown pass. A 94-yard drive ended in a touchdown.

A long punt return led to a touchdown. An 80-yard run scored a touchdown.

A fumble led to a field goal. A blocked punt led to a touchdown.

A scrambling throw by the limping quarterback led to a field goal. And the Cougars returned an interception for a touchdown.

That about cover it?

Toledo could be asked to change the defensive coordinator, but he’s already gone through four in seven years.

He could be asked to change the offensive coordinator, but, um, that’s him.

There is a phrase Dan Guerrero has used to describe what he likes to see in his teams.

“Fire out,” he says. “I like to see them fire out.”

On a day the Bruins rushed for only 79 yards and committed four turnovers, about the only time anybody really fired out was when senior tackle Mike Saffer blatantly hammered a Cougar defender about five seconds after the whistle, leading to a personal foul and brief benching.

“It was a bad play, it was my fault, but I don’t regret it,” he said. “It’s football.”

That may be Guerrero’s dilemma this week when deciding the future of a coach who once won 20 consecutive games, but has since gone 24-24.

It might seem silly to fire an engaging coach and smooth recruiter whose team is young and whose only crime may be that he is too nice.

Then again, it’s football.

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Bill Plaschke can be reached at bill.plaschke@latimes.com