IN MAY 2021, a few weeks after being hired at Kansas, Lance Leipold approached the school’s administration about moving practices to the morning.

He was told it could be done, but not until early 2022. Too many class conflicts for the fall. That wouldn’t work. Leipold needed morning practices immediately, noting the benefits for players’ sleep and daily activity structure. So he went back, over and over, asking for a list of impacted players. The list never came, but Leipold kept pushing, not delegating to anyone else. He thought the passion of the message “gets watered down” if it didn’t come from him.

The group of players with conflicts dwindled to seven and eventually to one, an engineering major who would miss a portion of one practice.

Kansas practiced in the morning that fall and has ever since.

“If I take the first answer, ‘No, we can’t do it,’ because it’s going to take a lot of extra work, I don’t think this program is where it’s at today,” Leipold told ESPN. “I’ve learned the hard way that what I think is really important, one and two on my priority list, might be seven and eight on the [administration’s]. So I need to say: ‘It’s worth fighting for.'”

The hard way for Leipold and his coaching peers stemmed from life in college football’s lower divisions, where coaches must fight for what they want. Coaches including Leipold, Kansas State‘s Chris Klieman and Alabama‘s Kalen DeBoer have brought that approach — and a championship pedigree — from smaller schools to the highest level of college football. They also have helped shift the hiring patterns in a sport that had often ignored those on the fringes.

The last coaching carousel included Houston hiring Willie Fritz, who spent more than 30 years in small colleges and high schools before getting his first FBS job as Georgia Southern‘s coach. Northwestern‘s David Braun, promoted from defensive coordinator to interim head coach in July 2023, won Big Ten Coach of the Year in his first season working for an FBS program. Bob Chesney, who built his reputation at smaller New England schools including Assumption and Holy Cross, was a candidate for Syracuse‘s recent vacancy and ultimately landed at James Madison, which had hit big with similar hires such as Curt Cignetti and Mike Houston.

“They mowed the field and they painted the lines, they drove the buses, there was no entitlement,” said Nebraska athletic director Troy Dannen, who hired Fritz at Tulane, worked with Klieman at Northern Iowa and has known Leipold for years. “They did it without resources. It was: How do you get the most out of what you have, instead of, how do you buy the most?”

Leipold won six Division III national titles in seven years at Wisconsin-Whitewater, his alma mater, before getting his first opportunity to lead an FBS program at Buffalo. He then revived Kansas, the nation’s worst major conference program, which hosts UNLV on Friday (7 ET, ESPN).

Klieman led North Dakota State to four FCS national titles in five years, and he has Kansas State poised to contend for its second Big 12 title in three seasons. After spending most of his career in the FCS, especially at Northern Iowa, his alma mater, Klieman is 41-24 at No. 14 Kansas State entering Friday’s showdown against No. 20 Arizona.

DeBoer became the NAIA’s version of Nick Saban at his alma mater, University of Sioux Falls, which won three national titles in four years. Just a decade after securing his first FBS job — as Eastern Michigan‘s offensive coordinator — and after four years as an FBS head coach, he actually replaced Saban at Alabama, which visits Wisconsin on Saturday.

Why are more coaches with small-school backgrounds getting major conference opportunities? Because they’re groomed to handle supersized roles.

THE JOB DESCRIPTION for FBS head coaches gets longer by the day.

Recruiting and schematics are priorities, but they also manage assistant coaches and massive staffs, especially in the personnel area with the transfer portal becoming such an integral part of the sport. They pour time into name, image and likeness, interfacing with stakeholders both within the university and on the outside. They also prepare for an expanding playoff system and the expectations that come with it.

Those who come up through major conference programs or the NFL, while only handling a unit or a position group and recruiting, could be overwhelmed by all the areas head coaches oversee. Coaches who start with less, meanwhile, are often qualified to handle more.

“There’s so many hats you wear, so you understand how important every role is to the program, from equipment to sports information to your graduate assistants,” DeBoer told ESPN. “We had someone who was part time in equipment; that meant I still had to do some equipment as a head coach. As a small-college coordinator my first five years, I didn’t have any graduate assistants, so you’re doing a lot of the film cut-ups and breakdowns. When you get to this point, you have a greater appreciation for the journey, and also the people that are in those roles.”

Fritz’s tasks over years at spots like Willis High School in Texas, to Coffeyville Community College in Kansas, to University of Central Missouri, included academic advising and scheduling, 14 years as a strength coach, several years of taping ankles, driving the team bus to certain games and even producing media guides.

“Sometimes guys, all they know is the football part of it,” said Fritz, who won two junior college national championships at Blinn College and conference titles in four leagues, including the AAC with Tulane in 2022. “Probably for myself and the guys [with similar backgrounds], they probably see the big picture a little bit clearer.”

A more hands-on approach shapes the style in which Fritz, DeBoer and others lead major conference programs. Fritz describes himself as “not a big-time micromanager,” but said there are nonnegotiables in his program around academics, athletic training and strength and conditioning that he must handle.

“You just learn that you’re above nothing, so you have your hands on everything,” said Braun, who coordinated defenses and team travel in NAIA and Division II. “It’s human nature where there can be a sense of entitlement, a lack of gratitude. I’m not saying that’s the case for people that had opportunities to start at a young age at a high level, but there’s a certain understanding, when you’ve come up through the ranks.”

Leipold once had an assistant who played and coached for major conference programs. When Leipold expressed concern about a sloppy warmup, the coach said the strength coach should handle it. When a player in the coach’s room had an off-field issue, the coach deferred to an academic advisor.

“Well, s—, [when] you’re at Whitewater, you don’t have those people. You’re that guy,” Leipold said. “You’re the travel guy, you’re the academic guy. What you do is have more holistic accountability. When you get more resources, it should supplement and add, not take workload off of people.”

KLIEMAN WILL NEVER tell Kansas State’s strength coach or his nutritionist how to do their jobs. As defensive coordinator Joe Klanderman put it, “He lets the experts in the building be experts in their field.” When they make recommendations, Klieman will implement them, rather than “kind of halfway listen and then go do what he wants to do,” Klanderman said.

The result is a staff who truly feels appreciated.

“I don’t have all the answers, and I need help and I want their input,” Klieman said. “I would hope every one of the staff members or players would say, ‘Yeah, he gives us a voice.’ That is so important in our profession right now.”

Kansas State offensive coordinator Conor Riley, who, like Klanderman, came with Klieman North Dakota State, said Klieman’s “relatability” is his superpower. There have been fewer silos in the programs where Klieman has worked — none in some cases — so he knows and, more importantly, wants to know what everyone in the program is doing.

Riley also sees benefits in recruiting with how Klieman studies prospects and does projections.

“You’re forced to not just take that low-hanging fruit, but really have to dig about a young person, find out about a high-school-aged kid, not seeing where he’s at right now but saying, ‘Where’s he going to be in two to three years?'” Riley said. “That’s what you’ve had to do for the lion’s share of your career, so why can’t you translate it to a higher level of college football?”

Kansas director of sports performance Matt Gildersleeve, who worked with Leipold at Buffalo, said Leipold’s background allows him to evaluate the program through a “lens of creativity.” He doesn’t let staff members get comfortable, constantly challenging them to adjust in ways that can help the players.

“He’s a true players’ coach,” Kansas running back Devin Neal said. “When you start at a lower level like that, there’s always more to work towards. Not saying he would be any different if he would have started out as a Power 5 or [FBS] coach, but it gives you a different outlook when you don’t have as many resources.”

Coaches with small college backgrounds also are set up to tackle new challenges, including NIL and the expanded CFP. Those leading programs without a full complement of scholarships must decide how the money is divided up, much like NIL.

The 12-team CFP will require teams to play as many as 17 games to win a national title, although major conference champions will only need 16. DeBoer’s last Sioux Falls team went 15-0, while Leipold had three 15-0 teams at Wisconsin-Whitewater and Klieman’s first championship team at North Dakota State finished 15-1.

“You play 15, 16 games a year; you just get exposed to an awful lot,” Klieman said. “That’s what we’re starting to evolve to in Power 4, with the new playoff. That’s the norm in FCS.”

THERE’S A BIT of Clark Kent in coaches like Klieman, DeBoer, Leipold and Fritz. They’re friendly, unassuming and, at times, self-deprecating. They present more as standard dads than seven-figure earners, reflecting the sensibilities from their Midwestern roots in Iowa, South Dakota, Wisconsin and Kansas.

“They’re not in it for the celebrity,” Dannen said.

They also all have another trait simmering beneath the surface.

“Chris and Lance, in particular, you’re talking about some highly competitive guys,” DeBoer said. “They come across as real nice people and all that, but behind the scenes, I know what they’re all about. They’re relentless and they don’t want to lose.”

Kansas State linebacker Austin Moore said of Klieman, “He gets a little different on game days. His voice changes a little bit, you can see it in his eyes, and it gets everyone fired up.”

Competitiveness among college coaches isn’t confined to those who come from smaller schools. As Dannen noted, the profession is packed with “double -[Type]-A personalities.” But the coaches’ backgrounds can augment their drive to succeed.

“You wake up in the morning as a small college coach and that to-do list is overwhelming sometimes,” DeBoer said. “But you know it has to be done to reach the goals that you have, the games you want to win, the championships you want to go be a part of. So there’s got to be a competitiveness that helps drive you to do all the little jobs that are going to allow you to get there.”

Dannen calls Fritz the most competitive person he has ever been around, but Fritz has been molded and amplified by his experiences. At Central Missouri or Blinn College, the talent gaps with competition are often negligible. He found “those little details, those edges,” Dannen said, that made the difference and ultimately led to championships.

Others with similar backgrounds look at personnel the same way.

“Guys that have coached at lower levels, you never make the excuse that, ‘We’re not talented enough,” Braun said. “You just find a way to tap into the talent that you have.”

When Leipold won his first national title at Wisconsin-Whitewater, he was so motivated to win another that he didn’t enjoy the title as much as he should have. He became immersed in maintaining success. A move into the FBS enhanced Leipold’s drive, which is shared by those with similar experiences.

At the annual coaches’ convention, Leipold and DeBoer would talk about their similar paths.

“From those small conversations we used to have, we want to prove we can do it at this level,” Leipold said. “Because there’s enough people that don’t think guys like us could ever have come this far. And there’s responsibility. I don’t want to let people down.

“Sometimes, you get so competitive that you’ve got to learn to balance things a bit.”

Leipold is still working on the last part, but he and those like him have remained more grounded than most. The night before DeBoer was set to lead Washington against Michigan in the CFP national championship game, he received a text from Riley, wishing him well and adding that there was no need to respond.

Five minutes later, DeBoer texted back, thanking Riley for reaching out.

“Knowing Kalen and Coach Leipold and Coach Klieman, there’s a tremendous amount of competitiveness, and there is a lot of fire and there is a lot of passion,” Riley said. “But they’re down-to-earth people as well.”

COLLEGE FOOTBALL HAS featured small-school coaches rising into prominent roles before. Before Notre Dame and now LSU, Brian Kelly spent the first 20 years of his career at Assumption College, a Division II program, and then Grand Valley State, which he led to consecutive Division II national titles, before securing his first FBS job at Central Michigan.

Chip Kelly worked entirely in FCS or Division III, mostly at New Hampshire, his alma mater, before earning his first FBS job as Oregon‘s offensive coordinator in 2007. He soon became Ducks head coach and went 46-7 with three AP top-four finishes, making significant impacts in scheme, sports science and other areas.

There are lesser-known but equally significant examples, such as Chris Creighton, who came to Eastern Michigan in late 2011 with no FBS experience, having moved up from NAIA (Ottawa) to Division III (Wabash) to Drake (FCS). Eastern Michigan had made only one bowl appearance before, back in 1987, and had won two games or fewer in four of the five previous seasons. After just three wins in his first two years, Creighton has led EMU to six bowl appearances.

The recent surge of hires could carry more significance, though, especially with DeBoer’s rise to one of the highest-profile programs in the sport.

“That journey, when you can enjoy it and keep the focus on the right things, this is kind of where, step by step, you get to,” DeBoer said. “There’s got to be some breaks along the way. There were opportunities that came to you and you did well, and that led to other opportunities. It’s probably more than just one big win. It’s probably multiple championships, especially when I think about the guys that you’ve mentioned. But they’ve taken advantage of that.”

Leipold senses that opportunities for successful small-school coaches to move up faster have increased. Some of the steps that used to be required — Group of 5 coordinator, Group of 5 coach, Power 4 coordinator — can now be skipped. Craig Bohl, Klieman’s predecessor at North Dakota State and the winner of three FCS national titles, went to Wyoming and, despite a steady run there, never moved up to a Power 4.

Klieman went straight from NDSU to K-State, and has proved he can win there. Stanford’s Troy Taylor had been an assistant at several FBS programs, but vaulted straight from Sacramento State to his current role.

“Guys like Chris and Lance and others who have shown they can do it have maybe allowed some of the decision-makers in all this to realize they can look a lot of different places for the right people in these roles,” Braun said.

The next few hiring cycles will show whether the next group of small-school risers gets an opportunity. Names to watch include South Dakota State‘s Jimmy Rogers, Idaho‘s Jason Eck, Mercer‘s Mike Jacobs, Northern Arizona‘s Brian Wright, Kutztown’s Jim Clements and Yale’s Tony Reno.

Leipold remembers his introduction at Buffalo, where Danny White, the athletic director at the time, said schools have a choice: Hire major conference assistants and live with the growing pains as they learn how to be head coaches, or hire those who have run programs before and teach them the finer points of the FBS.

The personality of each school, and often the administrators making the hires, will shape coaching searches and hires.

“My concern is if you’ve been an associate AD at Ohio State, Michigan, Notre Dame, whatever, what are you going to gravitate to? Are you going to look at Chris Creighton from Wabash?” Leipold said. “If you look at good coaches who run good programs, they should [consider those] at Division II, Division III. I sure hope they have a chance.”

Leipold’s concern is that NIL will be used against small-school coaches because they aren’t as involved, but Dannen anticipates controls on revenue-sharing and distribution will make most power conference schools look more alike.

“Maybe more times going forward than even in recent history, you just need to be a ball coach,” Dannen said.