Les Miles is up to something.

I’m telling you.

Not sure exactly what it is.

But trust me, LSU’s Mad Hatter has something up his sleeve.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

He did seem to be looking the other way when he rolled out LSU’s latest recruiting class Wednesday, a diversionary tactic perhaps, maybe another fake field goal.

He gushed about this guy, fawned over that guy, cackled boldly about playing for championships with this group … all the while whistling (as nonchalantly as possible) past the quarterback graveyard and trying to ignore the elephant that wasn’t in the room.

That was his annual recruiting news conference.

From there, Miles left for a real celebration, the silly recruiting bash for fans down the road, where he brought the house down and set Twitter afire with one bold statement.

The subject, odd for a day when not a discouraging word is normally to be heard, was the handful of Louisiana recruits who resisted Miles’ charms and fled the state for other pastures, at least one of them crimson.

“If he finds a way to wiggle out of the finest state in America,” Miles said, his voice rising to the occasion. “If he finds a way not to enjoy Louisiana … to hell with him.”

Boom.

Film at 11.

Suddenly, nothing else about the day seemed to matter.

The chitchat world took sides, some shouting “Dang right!” others wondering how a coach who left his native Ohio to play for Michigan and has thrice resisted the call of his alma mater to return home, could suddenly be so concerned about clamping down state borders.

It created such a convenient clatter that, again, the really perplexing issue was washed aside by a great social media debate of what should have been a trivial matter.

It was easy to get distracted.

LSU brought in another highly rated class, passing muster with all the various experts.

Little was left to chance.

The Tigers made their annual trip Down Under and landed yet another Australian punter, they found an offensive lineman from Nigeria, and LSU is still the only school I know that regularly gives a four-year scholarship for the sole purpose of deep snapping.

To its credit, it’s hard to remember the last time LSU had a bad snap on anything.

It’s that kind of attention to detail that wins championships.

Of course, it’s also hard to remember the last time the Tigers completed a forward pass.

And the quarterback position, by all appearances, is supposed to take care of itself by osmosis or maybe voodoo or sorcery or just blind luck.

LSU’s solution to the vexing problem seems to be that, hey, maybe one will fall in the proverbial lap.

Honestly, when Miles at his news conference said this class “filled significant roles and significant needs,” I truly was expecting 15 young quarterbacks to be paraded out, all different sizes and shapes of drop-back, dual-threat, cannon-arm, game-ready specimens ready to lick their fingers, clap hands together, and put an end to this nightmare.

Honestly, though, you can’t have too many offensive linemen or running backs, what else did LSU really need?

OK, there was one in the class. So at least they signed as many quarterbacks as deep snappers.

And young Justin McMillin, a lad out of Texas, may well be the elusive answer.

Never mind that he gets a lukewarm endorsement from the experts who assigned him a mere three stars.

We know it need not be a scarlet letter.

There is plenty of anecdotal evidence that those kind of snap judgments can be misleading.

But quarterbacks are different. Normally they require some care and nurturing before being turned loose on the SEC.

See Harris, Brandon.

And maybe Harris will be the answer. It wasn’t fair to expect much of him last year as a true freshman, although the way he disappeared during Anthony Jennings’ struggles suggests the coaching staff didn’t see much potential.

LSU did go after one other, Torrance Gibson, but he honored his commitment and signed with Ohio State, which evidently can play three or four at once.

So where for LSU was, say, a junior college quarterback?

Surely, some were out there, and every Tiger game last year was basically a three-hour, nationally televised plea for some hotshot quarterback to come get instant fame and recognition, with amenities like veteran offensive linemen, scads of NFL-bound wide receivers and no fear of every running out of running backs.

Yet, at one point during the recruiting process, Miles discounted the JC option, saying they were pretty confident with what they already had on campus.

That’s when I first got suspicious.

Meanwhile, on signing day LSU was stockpiling blue-chip wide receivers like the arms race was about to heat up to Defcon 3.

There were four of them, all of excellent pedigree, ready to join an already impressive and under-utilized fleet.

What on earth were they thinking?

There were even three new tight ends, youngsters apparently already in need of joining the witness protection program.

“These guys came here because what they want to do is catch balls,” Miles explained, “and what we want to do is throw them. We just need to improve that spot.”

Yeah, there is that little stumbling block.

But recruiting is done.

The only additional help now would have to come from a transfer, which Miles has also discounted, saying it wasn’t in the plan.

But he also said he wouldn’t “rule it out.”

And I think back to the little white lies Miles always dials up when discussing injuries when he doesn’t want to tip his hand.

That me be play here, as feigns disinterest in any further upgrades at quarterbacks, it might be a smokescreen while something is really brewing there.

And, if you’re looking for hope, that’s the best I can do for you.

l

Scooter Hobbs covers LSU

athletics. Email him at

shobbs@americanpress.com

LSU head coach Les Miles. (Associated Press)

Dave Martin