Loyalty is dead.
Actually, in the off chance that Loyalty is the name of one of the cast members of Basketball Wives, let me clarify.
Loyalty, in the “medieval knight bowing down and kissing the ring of the monarch and vowing to defend the realm to the death” sense of the word is dead.
Maybe not everywhere, but at least in the world of coaching it is.
In the last couple of weeks, college football has seen a remarkable number of coaches jumping at new opportunities.
Urban Meyer abandoning his family and his one year sabbatical for the low-pressure job at resurrecting Ohio State. I can only assume that this means Meyer’s family is about as insufferable as the Kardashians and that E! will soon be documenting every moment of their lives as well.
Charlie Weis jumping to Kansas after just a year in Gainesville. Actually scratch ‘jumping’, Charlie hasn’t jumped since his man-teet gave him a bloody nose skipping rope in middle school. Charlie Weis ‘scooting’ to Kansas.
Kevin Sumlin moving up the road from Houston to College Station to demonstrate how a Conference USA offense will do against SEC defenses. I hope Kevin doesn’t Google ‘Steve Spurrier Washington Redskins’ while researching innovative offenses going to a new level of competition.
Hugh Freeze going to Ole Miss, creating an entire ancillary industry for Batman & Robin pun signs.
Jim Mora Jr. signing on at UCLA, allowing BCS defenders a new go-to clip when people lobby for college playoffs. It is also makes it inevitable that Mora and Rick Neuheisel will eventually face off in an Anchorman style back alley brawl since Neuheisel once held Mora’s dream job as head coach at UW and now Mora replaces Neuheisel at UCLA.
Offensive Coordinator Gus Malzahn leaves Auburn to take over Arkansas State after defensive coordinator Ted Roof leaves the plains to take over the defense at UCF proving one of two things – either (1) both coordinators realized that last year’s fluke national title was the result of buying recruiting a SuperMan that won’t be seen again and Auburn will likely return to its rightful place as the Phoebe of the SEC Friends’ cast or (2) both are so distraught over the pending death of the trees at Toomer’s Corner they can’t bear to watch as the trees wilt away.
And today, Todd Graham, after almost a full year on the job is leaving Pittsburgh to take over the Arizona State job.
There are rational reasons for all of these moves – from the out-sized ambition to prove you are as smart as you think you are to moving to a bigger and better program to wanting to live in a nicer location.
But in the end, there is one overriding lesson to be learned from them all.
Loyalty is dead. Coaches don’t care about programs, fans, schools or even players.
They care about themselves. They care about making more money; about gaining more power and more acclaim.
A player is a tool for them. Not a person. Not someone to help shape, grow and lead. Players are only as valuable as the wins (and subsequent money and fame) that they can help the coach acquire.
Any recruit that goes to a school any more due to a connection with their coach and a belief that the coach only wants them to succeed is destined to be as disappointed as people that attend Alvin & the Chipmunks: Chip-wrecked on opening night.
When picking a school, recruits should focus on the school – where they will live, the campus, the fans, the atmosphere – more than any individual because the coaches that promise them the world, do so with an unwritten understanding:
“I will care for you and help you as long as you help me achieve my ambitions. If better opportunities come along or if you fail to meet my goals, you will be as dead to me as The Playboy Club.”
College football programs are like the military. They build un-divided loyalty and devotion through hard work and sacrifice but give you a life-long community. A family.
Coaches are the Blackwater mercenaries to help the war-effort. They pitch in, work along-side the military community to achieve the same goals. They aren’t really part of the family but are there to help.
Right up until someone else offers them more money.