By Tuesday morning he was granting his team an entire day to celebrate. “In 24 hours you probably need to move on,” he said, “because there’s another challenge and basically you created a target for yourself in the future in terms of people who want to beat you.”

Saban’s inability — or is it unwillingness? — to enjoy his success as a normal person would comports with the masochism apparent in his personality. Saban is a control freak who places himself in charge of unpredictable teenagers. He speaks in an affectless monotone, mournfully crosses his arms and rarely smiles. There is something about the healthily tanned skin and chestnut hair, which make him look at least a decade younger than his 66 years, that makes one wonder about the horrifically aged portrait of him collecting dust in some attic. His world has two outcomes — a championship or a failure. It will be ever thus.

Unlike his old friend, former boss and fellow sixtysomething Bill Belichick, he is not rumored to be in his last season in his job. He is not going elsewhere. Barring some radical change in his psyche, he probably is not retiring all that soon: He signed a contract extension last year that runs through 2024.

The interesting question about perhaps the greatest college football coach ever is why he keeps subjecting himself to this.

He has nothing left to prove. He did not before Monday night, and he certainly does not after. No. 4 Alabama sneaked into this College Football Playoff, beat defending champion Clemson — avenging last year’s title game loss — and then, against Georgia, endured a first-half shutout before engineering a magnificent comeback. The game will be remembered for a single master stroke: Saban boldly benching the starting quarterback Jalen Hurts for a true freshman backup, Tua Tagovailoa, after halftime.