“Ryan likes a challenge,” said his father, Ed Moore. “He always asks questions. That’s just the kind of guy he is. Even when he was 7 years old, he was always asking ‘Why?’”

And Broyles’ willingness to take every call, as many as he could, may have confused matters. Even Wednesday morning, his mind made up, he took calls from OSU assistant Gunter Brewer, OU assistants Cale Gundy and Kevin Sumlin and then Bob Stoops himself before putting pen to paper at 8:40 a.m.

“At one point,” Moore explained, the process wearing on his wife, Ryan’s mother, Stephanie, “she said, ‘My child is being treated like a piece of meat.’”

It may not be an indictment of the system nearly as much as it simply is the system, one fueled by a cottage media (and perpetuated by the rest of the media) there to service the same bunch of superfans that can’t wait for the next Athlon, Street and Smith or Lindy’s season preview, even though all the information in such rags is excavated between the end of the season and the end of spring ball, months before preseason practice even begins.

It doesn’t have to make sense.

And still, don’t go looking for lessons.

There are no lessons. It’s just a decision.

And the next four years of his life. Maybe the most important four years of his life.

So if Ryan Broyles took everybody for a wild ride, don’t blame him. Look in the mirror.

He’s entitled.

It’s just a decision.

A big one.

Clay Horning366-3526cfhorning@normantranscript.com