So much of what we see and hear as reporters covering sports goes unnoticed to the trained eye and ear because it become repetitious.

On Wednesday when the Gators sprung into spring football, I listened for a change.

The sound of a whistle blowing is commonplace, but if you listen closely you can hear different versions of the whistle played by different coaches — almost like each instrument in the orchestra has its own sound.

This came to mind because of what a former Bowling Green player told me about Urban Meyer’s first real practice, which was something akin to The Junction Boys experience conducted by the late Paul “Bear” Bryant. Meyer blew his whistle a lot that day, and often — and it was shrill.

“We realized pretty quick,” said the former Falcon player, ” that coach Meyer was training us to his whistle.”

I got the impression the whistle to the football player was like the whip of the lion tamer.

Not every coach uses a whistle. Steve Spurrier didn’t. Meyer does on occasion. But the most commanding whistle in practice is that of strength and conditioning coach Mickey Marotti when he calls the team together for stretching exercises.

As they move from exercise to exercise, Marotti gives four crisp blast in stacatto fashion and the players respond like Pavlo’s dog. Perhaps it is because he put them through rigorous mat drils and strenuous off-season, so the has their attention.

By all appearances, Coach Mick is in total command and he has them dancing on the head of a pin.

Defensive back coach Chuck Heater uses his voice more and is more of a one-burst guy who doesn’t need the whistle as his cattle prod.

Defensive line coach Dan McCarney yells a bit, but rips off a rat-tat-tat three-bagger now and then.

They all know the sound of Urban’s whistle at the end of the day when he rounds them up for the final session, but Urban’s sound can vary depending on how he feels about the day’s practice.

In Urban’s case it’s not the sound or the style of the whistle — it’s the man blowing it.