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EYEWEAR USED TO be a kind of prison until glasses became cool. Around the time jocks who never needed prescriptions began flaunting designer frames as a declaration of style. Which was long after Eli Drinkwitz had been memorialized in pictures from his adolescence, dorked-out in big, round lenses he inherited from his older brother, Jeremy. The head football coach of the Missouri Tigers has been the victim of lousy vision his whole life, and in his early 40s now seems the kind of glasses-wearer who forsakes image in favor of comfort. His current pair being a good example: soft rectangular lenses with practically invisible frames.

Only it turns out that Drink doesn’t like his glasses at all. He doesn’t like how they make him look on the field. He doesn’t like how they make him look in the locker room. He doesn’t like that they feed into a perception straight out of the 1950s that people think he’s a nerd. Even though he has described himself publicly as “a 5-10 dorky white dude” and, in his first year, when the Tigers upset LSU, said aloud, “Let’s be honest, I have no business being a head coach.” Within him seems to be a more ambitious evaluation of himself and what he can achieve, that he can actually take Mizzou somewhere it has never been before in football: to an SEC championship or — also his words — to the College Football Playoff. And maybe his glasses muddle in his appearance the sort of aggression such winning seems to demand.


I LIKE THE guy. When he was introduced nearly five years ago and made his first public appearance with his wife and four daughters at the ceremony in Columbia, Marching Mizzou played the fight song to lead him through a shroud of fake smoke and he walked onto Faurot Field swiveling his head to look around. He stepped in front of the microphone and pulled a visor over his eyes and then took off his glasses, in a little preview of how he would curate his appearance on the sideline. Then he set them onto the podium for a minute before putting them back on so he could see the pages of a prepared speech. He said, “For me, this is the opportunity of a lifetime.” He mentioned Gary Pinkel, Mizzou’s most successful modern coach, who was in the audience. Drink was in such stark physical contrast to him and every other Missouri coach who came before that I — someone who never played football but has worn glasses since kindergarten — told my friends I could get behind what he was doing, before he said a word.

There was some of that outward self-deprecation mingled with the confidence to employ it. He purposefully pronounced the correct “Missour-ee” and then said “MizzurUH,” too, as a nod to the people like my dad who had grown up in the Show Me State yet mispronounced it his entire life. He had not only the semblance of a personality but also a kind of panache (the nickname of Faurot Field is The Zou, and he joked that going anywhere around Columbia with four young daughters, people would get to see the real zoo). He giggled when he slipped up in saying he wanted to “win the Sun Belt … uhh, sorry, the SEC East!” But his elocution was that of someone with an easy way about himself. He barely had a track record as a head coach, but he was 12-1 the previous year at Appalachian State, including wins at South Carolina and North Carolina.

As a Mizzou graduate and native of the Bootheel, I was fascinated by this person, this seemingly new type of coach for a program in need of a risk. And that was before he made fun of Kansas and Arkansas. Before he made fun of Dan Mullen by pulling his hoodie over his head and a light saber from behind the lectern after Mizzou beat the Gators and he said, “May the force be with you” and then took a sip of Diet Coke like a mic drop. That was before Mizzou went 11-2 last season and beat Ohio State in the Cotton Bowl and Drinkwitz became the unapologetic driver of a black-and-gold Maybach with rims.

Last August, the X account CFBTalkDaily asked college football fans to reply to a post with “One word to describe Eli Drinkwitz.” The picture they used showed Drink on the field in the middle of action, staring from under his visor. Some answers: Coach. Aura. Mid. Dork. Leader! Savior. King. Dork but we LOVE him in CoMo, it’s just part of his charm! Different. Smart. Strange.

Drink’s Tigers are 6-1 and wobble at 21 in the AP poll. Early this season the offense has struggled — it was supposed to be one of the best in the SEC, with veteran quarterback Brady Cook throwing to Luther Burden III, touted as one of the top players in college football after catching 86 passes for 1,212 yards and nine touchdowns last season. But then Boston College gave them a scare at home and Vanderbilt took them to OT, and they were defenestrated at Texas A&M, which cost Mizzou dearly in the respect department. The Vanderbilt win certainly looks better now than it did at the time, of course. The Commodores took down Alabama, who lost again last weekend to Tennessee. But the Tide remain firm in the sporting consciousness as a juggernaut, and juggernauts tend to get the benefit of the doubt. If Missouri is to beat them, Burden, who has yet to live up to those lofty expectations (partly because Mizzou has trouble getting him the ball), will have to come alive. Missouri’s defense looks good in statistical departments — ninth in the country in yards allowed and top 10 in both pass and scoring defense — but has given up a bunch of broken and big plays such as a 75-yard TD run to Texas A&M’s Le’Veon Moss that opened the third quarter and essentially buried the game at 31-0. The defense will have to have the type of game it played against Murray State and Buffalo to start the season.

Drink tells me he remembers unfondly when glasses used to be considered a weakness. “That was tough, growing up,” he says. “Those were some bad glasses. I guess I thought they were cool.” A literal magnification of his shortcomings when he was a teenager in west Arkansas, a diminutive linebacker playing football for a team that won two state championships at Alma High School in a town with a population smaller than its 6,200-seat stadium. When the Drinkwitz family crammed itself — two parents and six kids — into a doublewide trailer. When his haircut was doing him no favors, either.

“I think what Coach Drink represents, man, is that you can be who you are,” says Mizzou assistant head coach and cornerbacks coach Al Pogue, who has known Drink since they were in their 20s and in quality control at Auburn under offensive coordinator Gus Malzahn. “And if that person is lighthearted and [can] still be successful? He represents that. It’s OK to be who you are.” He is referring to instances when Drink leads off a team meeting with a dad joke. Or burbles, “That’s what she said” after an innocuous comment in the hallway because he can’t seem to help himself. When he hosts a get-together for coaches every Wednesday night over the fire pit in his backyard over Wendy’s hamburgers as part of a communion. When he tells coaches to come in later if they need to take their kids to school. “That’s something I had to learn. I thought I had to look mean. I thought I had to stand on the sideline always looking like I was angry. But I wasn’t really that person,” Pogue says. “If everyone says, ‘Hey, he is a nerd’ … well, that’s a guy who I want to be like.”


DRINK TAKES HIS glasses off before football games. Everyone calls him Drink, or Coach Drink; it’s what he seems to prefer. When the meetings and preparations end and there is no turning back before kickoff, he suctions contacts onto his eyeballs and stands before his coaches and players. As a head coach who never played college football (though he was class president at Arkansas Tech) he has been subject to scrutiny — if, for example, he doesn’t call a timeout and gets a delay penalty that backs his team up 5 yards against Kansas State at the end of the game, or gets blasted so badly at Texas A&M that it doesn’t even seem he was prepared.

It’s fairly easy to understand why one of the youngest Division I head coaches of an ascending team in the greatest football conference might project himself at his best, at his strongest, at his most commanding, by subtracting a perception of his vulnerability.

Drink has done a lot of celebrating at Missouri without his glasses. His most viral speeches about brotherhood and rallying cries and buzzwords such as “STP: something to prove” have been summoned with the team crowded around him, without the specs. He conducts his postgame news conferences without them. He knelt without them and rolled over onto his back in his droopy white T-shirt and chinos and flapped his arms and legs after Mizzou — with a smothering effort from a defense that lost five starters to the NFL and a huge pass from Cook to Burden in the fourth quarter, beat Ohio State in the Cotton Bowl — and he made angels out of the confetti on the fake green heaven of Jerry Jones’ field.

He goes back to them Sunday morning. For church or breakfast at Cafe Berlin in Columbia with his family, when a new week of football begins. When he is back on the fourth floor of the Mizzou South End Zone complex before anyone else arrives in the morning, with a life-size cardboard cutout of him taking a drink of Diet Coke in the hall, and “SOMETHING TO PROVE” written in gigantic letters down the hallway wall, taking out of his personalized Coach Drink mini-fridge his first of eight or nine 16-ounce Diet Coke bottles for the day.

“I tell people all the time, ‘Don’t let the glasses fool you,'” he says. “I think sometimes, for me, I’m perceived either more nerdy than I really am, or maybe not as masculine. And I think I’m just trying to make sure when I’m out there proving a point, I want people to really understand me, you know? It’s kinda like Superman. He had to take his glasses off to get after people.”


HE’S WEARING THEM in the evening. He sidles down the stairwell from the private room of donors at Chicken N Pickle, a Mizzou-friendly restaurant on the banks of the Missouri River in the St. Louis suburb of St. Charles, where he has been taking pictures with fans all evening and glad-handing for help with Every True Tiger, the branding and NIL agency of Mizzou athletics, and a new $250 million addition to the football stadium that will enclose the North End Zone and hopefully entomb the program’s tortured past there. Hundreds of fans have gathered to hear him speak publicly for the first time since beating Ohio State in the Cotton Bowl, where he trumpeted a war cry on the victor’s stage, “We’re not blue bloods, we’re a dirty, hardworking brotherhood … M-I-Z!”

On this night, Drink could pass as a fan in the restaurant, so it’s hard to spot him at first. His brown hair is combed to the side and his long-sleeve shirt is tucked into black chinos as he stands off in the corner at various points, constantly checking his phone. He lacks any kind of security buffer or coterie to lead him through the crowd of Bud Light drinkers and nachos eaters, of kids with plush hats with tiger tails dangling from the ears shaking pom-poms, of Truman the Tiger standing by the side of a stage giving a curtsy to the coach, of older men and women in various shades of black and gold as hopeful for 2024 as for any season in the past. The dimples embedded into Drinkwitz’s freshly shaved face make him look younger than 41, the face of this now-relevant but historically misbegotten team.

Twice in my lifetime, in 2007 and 2013, Missouri was a half away from the national championship game. This was under Pinkel, the stoic former tight end who seemed to withhold any sense of humor but made up for his lack of personality by taking Missouri all the way to No. 1. But the Tigers lost in the 2007 Big 12 championship game when Sam Bradford and Oklahoma pulled away in the second half after a Chase Daniel interception, and in the 2013 SEC title showdown Malzahn and what seemed like an Auburn team of destiny road-graded Mizzou in the fourth quarter, for which I was, sadly, present. Both those nights spun endlessly nowhere after the final whistle for a childhood fan, for a native of the state, someone who understood the precedent of finally seeing the team at the threshold but unable to cross. Walking back to a car under a black sky that might as well have let history whisper through: Missouri wasn’t and isn’t going to ever get there.

Now, though, Drink is asking everyone to believe. The Tigers just went 11-2; why not? With him on stage are three players, Burden, safety Marvin Burks and a new transfer cornerback from Clemson, Toriano Pride Jr. Drink cracks a joke about their 40 times not being good enough. He believes the Tigers should be as talented on offense as anyone in the country. They did have to replace Cody Schrader, a walk-on running back who led the SEC in rushing in 2023 and was the best story in college football, and did so by signing two of the most sought-after senior running backs, Nate Noel and Marcus Carroll, from the transfer portal. Cook, a senior, should be a top SEC quarterback again if healthy. Drink tells the fans there’s no better wide receiver room in America, with Burden; Theo Wease Jr., a transfer from Oklahoma; and Mookie Cooper and Marquis Johnson. A look at the schedule and one figures: 11-1? Possible. Or 10-2 at the worst.

Drink floats atop all the morbid backstory exuding an enthusiastic charm and the temperament of someone christened as a winner, of someone whose salary will rise to $9 million next season and, at least for a while, make him bulletproof. He greets the crowd before him outside in plastic chairs and stands on a makeshift stage outside the restaurant, a few weeks before the team will be announced just outside the preseason top 10.

“I been coming to these events for four years,” he says. “I remember coming here and telling people all the things we believed we could do. We believed we could recruit elite players and we believed we could win at the biggest stage … and we’re not satisfied with where we’re at, we feel like we just realized our potential. Now it’s about continuing to push, but in order to do that, we need you.”

An older man named Rob stands up in the crowd and asks for the microphone.

“Coach, I live in Moscow Mills, Missouri,” he says, “and I’ve been a Tiger fan for a long time. Three years in my lifetime we flirted with being No. 1. The first time I remember was 1969 — we lost a heartbreaker in the Orange Bowl to Penn State. In 2007, we had a magical season with Chase Daniel and then 2013, that first SEC East championship. My question for you is, after each one of those seasons, expectations were sky-high for the following year. And we had good seasons the next year but fell short. Tell me why this season is going to be different … how are we going to take that next step and not fall back just a little bit?”

Drink is caught off guard by how deep and kind of unsettling this is. How tortured an ask. Though he has been the coach at Missouri going on five years, it is unclear if even now he fully understands the embedded self-hatred of Tigers fans, whose expectations, despite the winning, are that fate will intervene no matter his preparations and things will always go wrong.

“Well, I mean that’s the toughest question I’ve been asked in a while,” he says. “Um … there’s no way to know or predict what the future is going to be. I think our team is still extremely hungry. We want to win an SEC championship. We had six players drafted. Those guys were really good players. But if you look at the competitive depth on our team, we should be a more talented team this year. It’s really going to come down to the mindset of the coaches and players and I, and are they really hungry to reestablish their own identity? All I know is, the only thing that matters to us is being better today than we were yesterday. If you can do that continuously …” He might not always look the part, but all these gathered people are looking at him as the head football coach. And he sounds like a head football coach, relying on old-school phrases in the hope of winning people over. He trails off. The crowd applauds him.


“YOU’RE NOT A jock, Coach,” I say to him. Which is meant as a compliment, an affirmation of one of the ways he has described himself. Drink is on one of the morning walks he takes every weekday before practice begins, when he collects his thoughts and makes phone calls to donors and recruits, when he slips away for 40 minutes to an hour by himself. The compliment is a pledge of allegiance, me describing myself and pointing at my own glasses, the fact I, too, have always had to wear them; have always looked for ways to put them aside; have gone to lengths, even as a child, to hide that my vision was bad by either pretending to see the board or sitting in the front of the class. That I can’t wear contacts because of sensitivity, that I still take them off half the time my wife and I post pictures on Instagram because removing my glasses is a part of my life. There are four days before the 2024 season begins at home against Murray State, and he’s tracking his steps on an app and wearing a white safari hat that shades his face and the top of his head and the whistle around his neck. We follow his usual path from the auxiliary staircase of the South End Zone football complex past the indoor football training facility and down the walkway with huge painted tiger paws up the hill to the basketball arena. The light stands atop Faurot Field disappear behind us into pretty woodlands and a trail veined with cracked gravel and littered with leaves, chippering birds getting louder and the sound of the cars on Providence Road softening into a kind of faraway purr.

Drink does not like what I said, though. He shakes his head and says, “Well, all right,” and then, “Ah, OK,” but it is clear he does not want to be identified this way, that we are not on the same page. No matter what he has said about himself in public he will not be a member of my made-up club. “I’m a better athlete than you expect, but that’s OK,” he says, hardened by the comment and quieted by it, like it’s a lazy perpetuation of the image he has been up against since he was a senior in high school getting good grades and playing football and having to prove to people by force that the guy pictured in his yearbook wasn’t who he actually is, wasn’t all he is.

“I am probably more like Mike McDaniel than Dan Campbell,” he says. “I quit caring what people say. [Shutting people up] used to be a big motivation for me. And carrying this chip on my shoulder. But now I’ve come to realize that’s never going to quiet anybody. The only thing you have to prove is to the people who believed in you.”

I want to tell him I’m one of those people who believed, who believe. But he has me on the other side of the ledger at the moment. And from there, the “big motivation” seems like it’s not all the way in the past tense.

He walks past the quiet softball field and soccer field and over the covered bridge that leads back to the football complex where he and players enter on Saturdays before the games. Drink is the fourth of six children. He shared a room in the trailer with two brothers (his three sisters shared another) and was picked on by them. He rotated sleeping on different levels of a bunk bed at his brothers’ command.

His older brother Jeremy, the president of a hospital system in Southwest Missouri, calls him at least once a week and attends pretty much every home game. “He’s always been blind as a bat,” Jeremy says. “In all candor, we didn’t have much money, so those were the glasses given to him. Dad was a teacher and mom stayed home and took care of the kids. That’s why they were as big as his face when he took pictures. One of the funniest stories is that Mom once accidentally left him at the eye doctor. She had to take alllll these kids to school. She went and dropped him off before school, took everybody else, forgot to come back and get him.”

I ask him about Drink now, about what he sees in him. Jeremy keeps it simple. “I ask for his opinion about how to lead,” he says. “How do you motivate? How do you inspire people around you?”


ASK MALZAHN ABOUT Eli Drinkwitz and it’s like he’s talking about himself. Drink is his guy, shaped out of clay under Malzahn’s intense work schedule. He doesn’t get too deep about anything different about Drink, of course; why would he? “Well, he is unique … it’s hard to explain, it works to his advantage,” Malzahn says. But he wants to talk about Drink as a young linebacker in high school: “He’d knock your head off now. Knock your stinkin’ head off. He has those glasses and looks a certain way, don’t let the kinda whatever you call it, don’t let that kid you.” He wants to talk about him as someone willing to “grind” for $13,000 a year in the labyrinths of quality control, someone who never recoiled from the slog of watching film, as it was his job after every Auburn game to break down the tape through the eyes of an opponent, to self-scout the team and present a report to Malzahn as though Drink were the defensive coordinator. In their first year together, Auburn won the national title. Yes, Malzahn wants to talk about Drink’s leadership and communication skills, to tell me that Drink possesses an imperceptible gift of being able to be smart about football but also relate to anyone, that everyone at Auburn from the secretary to the equipment people knew him and liked him. A nerd? Hell no. Malzahn called Drink and Casey Woods, now the offensive coordinator at SMU, the Ryan Brothers, in homage to Rex and Rob. “That dude is a worker,” Malzahn says. “He’s earned everything to get where he’s at. At Arkansas State he’d get there at 6 in the morning and wouldn’t leave ’til midnight. He wouldn’t flinch. He gets crap done.”

This is kind of the way Cook wants to talk about Drink, too. In the irrevocable terms of what they’ve been through together, their relationship linked in that Drink will always be the coach who stuck by the player last season and even this one, when Cook was booed at home games and went on to be one of the best quarterbacks in the SEC. Cook being a Missouri kid, a St. Louisan who dreamed about playing for Mizzou when he was a child going to games, who last week brought Drink’s voice to quiver in the postgame news conference when he was injured early against Auburn and then returned from the hospital in the third quarter to lead Mizzou to 6-1. “What can I tell you about Drink?” Cook asks. “Like, he’s goofy and he has humor. But he’s cutthroat at the same time. He represents Missouri with a chip on his shoulder, a little swag. I used to think of him more of like as a nerd, kind of like that. That idea, ‘Ah, OK, this guy is really smart and has glasses but he’s probably not, like, swaggy.’ As time has gone on, it’s changed.”

Drink’s old coach in high school, Frank Vines, who led the Alma Airedales for more than 30 years and was a three-time state champion, now watches every Missouri game from the rocking chair in the living room of his house back in Alma. “I’m getting old and went through a lot of kids,” he says. “Eli was not a great athlete. But he was very smart, very dedicated, and those are the two things I think that have kind of stood out in his life. On our team he was like having a coach out on the field.”

Watching Drink now prowl the sidelines is watching someone with his own style but who exhibits an amalgamation of what he has learned at various stops: Arkansas State, Auburn, North Carolina State, App State. The intense game-planning in his office and rigorous schedule of watching film like Malzahn, even late at night with his feet propped up on the couch, at home, with his daughters. Vines was a yeller, a tough guy, “the bad guy,” he says to me, “I didn’t baby anybody around,” and that is one thing Drink must have decided he didn’t want to be; he doesn’t scream at players often, and at one point, as a student, he told Vines to his face that he didn’t like the way he said “Goddamn,” using the Lord’s name in vain. Drink, for example, sits quietly in the head chair of the staff meeting going around the room and letting position coaches talk about their observations, much more in the style of a listener than a dictator.

Zac Thomas, Drink’s quarterback for one glorious season at Appalachian State, laments what they could have done with an even better team had Drink not left for Missouri in 2019. “He does a really good job of relating to players,” Thomas says. “He’s one of the first coaches I had in that level where you could come to him with problems, he was a sounding board. The way he goes about himself, cracking jokes — yes, football is an intense game, and you go through a lot of hardships, but you also have to be able to have the laughter, bring joy to the locker room. He brings people on cookouts, paintball, skiing trips, fun activities, he does ways to reward you to keep you going. He’s not the coolest coach on the face of the planet, but he knows what he’s good at.”


VINCE LOMBARDI WORE glasses. The game of football actually seems built on those horned rims and the sport he was able to see through them that no one else could. A company in New York now sells replica frames called Vince, describing this era as an eyewear renaissance and the throwback of his championship look. Woody Hayes wore them, too, in a different way, a brutalist accentuation of the black hat yanked over his ears and his shoulders bursting through his button-up jacket, his eyes magnified through those lenses and the insatiable temper nearly popping them right out of his skull. Jim Harbaugh wears glasses like a Siberian prison wears the snow. Supposedly, he says, to honor three people: Hayes, Michael Douglas in “Falling Down,” and Malcolm X.

Drink is in his office, wearing glasses. His tennis shoes are propped up on a velvet couch. The view through his office window is of the north end zone of the stadium and a clear and inviolable sky. When the season began, the Tigers were picked by plenty of people to make the first-ever 12-team playoff; so many pundits picked them that it honestly seemed to diehard Missouri followers like a bad harbinger. Mizzou has never once been able to follow up a great season with an even better one. He shows me the customized Cuban cigar humidor in black and gold that he received as a gift for winning the Cotton Bowl. Some texts from the Chief, singer Eric Church himself, a big fan of Drink. The Cotton Bowl ring and football from the game on a stand. A dozen other trinkets from last season’s run, an actual Cotton Bowl throw rug, and this giant framed picture right outside his door that shows him wearing sunglasses and the microphone headset thing extending in front of his mouth as he stares off into the distance with a hard-won frown, as if he were Nick Saban.

The entire office wall is made of glass. The view is of the sky and the stadium bleachers and the goalposts and the grass berm and Mizzou’s “Rock M.” Beyond that Providence Road and the University Hospital, the brick dorms with the windows open, a view all the way toward the columns at Jesse Hall and the most underrated campus in the SEC. By the window, to preview this same view of the future, Drink has a poster board of what the north end zone will look like in two years. Multiple levels of luxury suites rising several stories above a shrunken Rock M, an expanded concourse, thousands of people milling about the unfamiliar edifice, new seats where most of the grass used to be. I tell Drink, who didn’t grow up in Missouri but whose parents took him to Branson a few times, that when I look out there, I don’t exactly see what he does: sunshine, sure, but there are darker implications. I look out there and see Charles Johnson pushing with the ball one more time on “fifth down” from the 1, and Colorado “winning” the national title though he still didn’t cross the goal line. I see Matt Davison in the cool night air from my vantage point in the bleachers as a 17-year-old shocked that Mizzou was about to beat No. 1 Nebraska, Davison’s gloved hands cradling a deflected pass from Scott Frost off the foot of a Husker receiver named Shevin Wiggins with no time left in regulation, as the fans begin to storm the field at Faurot but then have to pull back in stupor as the most dominant team of the 1990s miraculously ties the game and then goes on to beat the Tigers in overtime. This is known as the Flea Kicker. Drink doesn’t see the field goal attempt, like I do, hook right in double overtime to ruin an undefeated season against South Carolina in 2013. He doesn’t understand the bodies that are buried and how deep they go, and thankfully he doesn’t care. Last year, Harrison Mevis drilled a 61-yard field goal into that end zone and Mizzou beat Kansas State.

“Mizzou was a challenger brand,” he tells me. Of course, he knows it doesn’t have the cachet of Alabama, or even somewhere like Florida. Which is why he took the job thinking the state had untapped potential given the talent that St. Louis and Kansas City regularly produce but that usually goes elsewhere. NIL and Drinkwitz are changing this. He has signed three top-25 classes in his Missouri tenure and kept several of the state’s best players (and some best nationally) home, including five-star recruits such as Burden and Williams Nwaneri. The cachet thing still proves true, though, when the Tigers drop in the polls three times after victories against Boston College, Vanderbilt and Auburn. It will take forever to be seen as Alabama’s worthy opponent, even if they beat the Tide on Saturday.

“We wanted to create story and space because if you’re not a blue blood it’s hard to get written about or recognized,” Drink says. “But now we’re to the point where we’re there, and it needs to be a lot less about me and a lot more about Brady Cook and Luther and Theo Wease. Those guys are way more important to this than I am. But it took a little of me putting myself out there to get noticed. But now that they notice and know who we are, it doesn’t need to be about me. I was a lot more active on social media. When I was at SEC media days, I was a lot wittier and a lot further and willing to take shots at other people, maybe more antagonizing; this year’s approach to media days was much more calculated.” No one at Mizzou has ever spent so much time on his image or being mischievous. The Star Wars thing he did with Mullen. Taking a jab at Tennessee’s Josh Heupel by calling a timeout last year at the end of the game against Tennessee, the game well in hand. Heupel is known for running up the score and kicking onside kicks against lesser teams, and when the Tennessee kicker missed against Missouri, Drink deadpanned after, “We stand on business, Josh.” About the only opposing coach Drink has never been willing to tweak is Saban.

“I tried to avoid doing anything that would create a narrative or create a viral moment, because I wanted the focus to be on the team and the players. As great as Saban is, when he retired, they replaced him in 48 hours. And the story was no longer about him and Alabama, it was about who’s next. No matter how good you are, you’re always replaceable.”


I’D RATHER HAVE a nerd as a coach. I’d rather have this guy who cannonballs off the diving board into the backyard swimming pool at his daughters’ command. I’d rather have someone who is openly self-referential than some other kind of coach, or the idea of some other kind of coach. I’d rather have this guy who drives his daughters in the back of a golf cart through the neighborhood to the Phillips 66 to get them ice cream or cinnamon buns or Andy’s Frozen Custard. Who takes them fly-fishing in Montana and wears the little safari-style hat. This guy who once sang “Livin’ on a Prayer” in public at a Mexican resort. As someone posted on X in November, “He may be a nerd, but he’s our nerd.” At this point, after all, no one has led Mizzou all the way. Not Don Faurot, the immortal coach in statue outside the stadium and for whom it is still named. Not Dan Devine, who had an 11-win season six decades ago, walking the old sideline in a suit and tie and top hat before he went to coach the Packers. Not Pinkel. So why not this person? This history major; this occasional strummer of guitars (he has two in his office) and smoker of Cuban cigars; this lover of Wendy’s hamburgers, this doer of dishes on weeknights when he comes home from football, this guy who somehow managed to get his daughters into Taylor Swift concerts this year and last, who gets them coffee now when he takes them to school. This guy who makes opposing fans boil over simply because he is a singularity in the game. I’d really rather him change nothing about himself at all — nothing about the way he looks, about the way he speaks, about the way he seems to have gotten under Heupel’s skin. Look at him. Look at his aura. Mizzou has never had anyone like him.


THE PLAYERS GATHER around him. The light is heavy outside. The turf of the practice field steams. He has been watching from a distance and standing behind a machine that sends footballs into the air to mimic a punt. He has a microphone that he talks through and huge speakers on the side of the field project his voice so players in every position group can hear him. Earlier in the day, the first time they saw him he ran into the team meeting room with his arms waving in the air, clapping to get the team going, shouting expletives when talking about getting the football into the air against Murray State. But then later out on the turf, the players put their hands on each other’s shoulders as he speaks to them, lost in the group except for the sound of his voice. And to be fair to him, from a distance, in the middle of the field with the players and his staff, in a white hoodie in the noonday sun, nothing really stands out about him. He looks like any other coach. Except for two red indentions on the sides of his nose where his glasses used to be.

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‘Split’ title 35 years ago? Don’t tell Colorado and Georgia Tech that

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'Split' title 35 years ago? Don't tell Colorado and Georgia Tech that

CHAD BROWN AND his Colorado teammates have gold rings. On each of them is a big number “1” filled with diamonds meant to commemorate their 1990 national title and the year they spent as the best team in the nation.

Across the country, Ken Swilling and his Georgia Tech teammates have their own gold rings, also with diamonds filling a big “1,” also meant to commemorate their 1990 national title.

Though their rings are nearly identical, members of those Colorado and Georgia Tech teams refuse to acknowledge that their seasons have a shared outcome. Players still won’t use the words “split” or “shared” when it comes to the 1990 season. Colorado points to its superior strength of schedule as the reason it is the rightful champ after going 11-1-1 and finishing No. 1 in the AP poll. Georgia Tech points to its unbeaten season as proof that it is the rightful champ after going 11-0-1 and finishing No. 1 in the coaches’ poll by one vote. Thirty-five years later, trash talk dies hard for two schools that played in the pre-BCS era and had no way to settle things on the field.

“Oh no. I would never say it was a split national championship,” Swilling said. “They can call us split, co- whatever they want to call it, but as far as Georgia Tech is concerned, we won the national championship in 1990. Heck, it took them five downs against Missouri to get the split anyway.”

“We were the best team in the nation. I have no doubts about that,” Brown says. “So people’s opinion about the Fifth-Down Game and people’s opinion about who should have won a national championship, it lands so poorly on me I don’t think about it. When someone says, ‘You won a national championship at Colorado?’ I say, ‘Yes, I did.’ ‘You don’t say you won a split national championship?’ No. Never once have I ever said I won a split national championship.”

Perhaps old scores will be settled when 1990 co- … er … national champs Colorado and Georgia Tech kick off the season in Boulder (8 p.m., ESPN), in the first meeting between the schools.

On second thought, maybe not.


IN 1989, COLORADO went undefeated in the regular season and faced Notre Dame in the Orange Bowl with the national title on the line. It lost 21-6, but their failure fueled their offseason workouts.

That, plus the memory of teammate Sal Aunese, who died of stomach cancer in 1989, drove Colorado as it headed into the 1990 season. But the first three games of the campaign did not go the way the Buffs had expected. Colorado was a surprising 1-1-1 headed into a game at Texas, having tied the season opener against No. 8 Tennessee and lost in Week 3 at No. 21 Illinois. No margin of error remained. Coach Bill McCartney had the team meet at a hotel where it usually stayed before home games. Players thought they would board buses for the airport.

Instead, McCartney called a meeting. He proceeded to lay into the entire team, calling players out by name for not playing up to their potential.

“Coach Mac usually did not make things personal,” Brown said. “This time, it was personal. He worked his way around the room, and I was the last one he got to. He turned to me and he said, ‘Chad, you’ve hurt me the most.’ He questioned my football character. For a guy who always prided himself on the way he played, that hurt.”

Brown dove into his playbook on the flight, and before leaving for the game, stared at himself in the mirror. He said to himself, “No one will ever question my football character again.”

Colorado trailed Texas 22-14 early in the fourth quarter, when running back Eric Bieniemy went into the defensive huddle and told his teammates, “Get us the ball back. We’re going to score. We’re going to win this game.”

Sure enough, Bieniemy scored a 4-yard touchdown with more than 10 minutes left to play, then ran it in from 2 yards out with 5:47 left for the winning touchdown. Brown finished with 20 tackles. Colorado players and coaches point to that game — and the speech McCartney gave his team — as the turning point in the season.

“Everybody likes to talk about the Texas turnaround, saying that I came out there and saved the game,” Bieniemy said. “No, it wasn’t anything special because there were times throughout the course of the year they had to uplift me as well.'”

Colorado dropped from its preseason position at No. 5 to No. 20, but by October, the Buffs were back to No. 12 in the AP poll. They’d still need some help to get back into the national championship race.

Players probably wouldn’t have guessed they’d need that help in Week 6 against unranked Missouri.

Before we discuss the infamous Fifth-Down Game, here’s what the Colorado players want you to know: Missouri tried to sabotage them from the start. In 1990, Missouri played on AstroTurf packed with sand. Colorado players said the school should have watered down the field before use.

That did not happen, so as play began, Colorado kept slipping and sliding all over the turf, slowing down its option game. (The Tigers, on the other hand, were familiar with the surface and knew which cleats to wear to minimize slipping.) Missouri led 31-27 with two minutes left in the fourth quarter. Then Colorado, behind backup quarterback Charles Johnson and Bieniemy, started driving. On first-and-goal from the 3-yard line with 28 seconds left, Johnson spiked the ball.

On second down, Bieniemy ran for a gain of 2 down to the 1-yard line. Colorado called timeout. The person working the down marker never changed the down. Colorado center Jay Leeuwenburg noticed and told McCartney, who insisted it was still second down. Meanwhile, a fan sitting behind the Colorado bench had a heart attack and was moved down to field level for medical attention, causing further distraction.

Colorado ran three more plays — and scored on its fifth down — as Johnson crossed over the goal line. The Missouri crowd chanted “fifth down,” and when the game ended, started throwing bottles and other objects onto the field. Starting quarterback Darian Hagan, who missed the game with an injury, said he took off his rib cage brace to shield quarterbacks coach Gary Barnett from getting hit.

“A lot of people say that we cheated and we should have given the game back and all this stuff,” Hagan said. “My response to that is, ‘Why did we cheat and what were Missouri’s coaches doing? Why didn’t they know what down it was? Everybody was out of it. The referees didn’t know. So they can blame a lot of people, but at the same time, we got a national championship out of it.

“It was human error. It wasn’t like we were trying to try to pull a fast one on anyone.”

Bieniemy said he legitimately had no idea that Colorado had used five downs until he saw highlights on ESPN. But he had to hear about the game constantly later in his career, when he became an assistant coach and worked 10 years for the Kansas City Chiefs and Andy Reid, who was the offensive line coach at Missouri in that game.

“Do you think I heard about it for 10 years?” Bieniemy says with a laugh. “I will say this, it was a great game. It’s one of those games that’ll be talked about for eons. But we’re not gonna give it back.”


ONE THOUSAND, FOUR hundred miles away in Atlanta, No. 18 Georgia Tech prepared to face No. 15 Clemson the week after the Fifth-Down Game. The Jackets began the year unranked, but players felt confident headed into the season after finishing 1989 with wins in seven of their final eight games.

Their defense began the season on a tear, giving up just 31 total points in the first four games. Once again, their defense came up big against Clemson, making a goal-line stand after the Tigers drove down to the 1-yard line. On eight trips inside Georgia Tech territory, Clemson scored just one touchdown. Still, the Tigers had a shot to win, down 21-19.

Chris Gardocki lined up for a 60-yard field goal attempt with a minute left.

“I was 10 feet away from him on the sideline, and I was telling everybody, ‘We’re done,'” Georgia Tech kicker Scott Sisson said.

But Gardocki missed, and Georgia Tech was off to its best start since 1966. That start got even better on the first weekend in November when the Yellow Jackets headed up to Charlottesville to play No. 1 Virginia.

Vandals had gotten into Scott Stadium the night before the game and burned a section of the turf, leaving questions about whether the game could be played. Georgia Tech quarterback Shawn Jones also said that same night, the fire alarm was pulled at 2 or 3 a.m. at the team hotel, forcing players to get up and evacuate.

“The atmosphere was like a championship playoff game,” Jones said.

But the game did not start out that way. Virginia led 28-14 at halftime, having flummoxed the staunch Georgia Tech defense.

“Some of our offensive players, they were asking us, ‘Hey, man, can y’all stop them? Just slow them down because we’re coming,” Swilling said. “And the look on our faces was like, ‘Man, I don’t know. This might be a long day.’ It just so happened that things began to turn offensively.”

Georgia Tech tied the game after two Virginia turnovers, and then it was back-and-forth until the end. Georgia Tech got the ball with 2:30 to go and the score tied at 38. Jones remembers feeling calm as the offense took the field.

He drove Georgia Tech 56 yards in five plays, setting Sisson up for a 37-yard field goal attempt with 7 seconds left. Sisson was affectionately called “Never Missin’ Sisson” by his teammates. Pressure never seemed to get to him. But as he was warming up on the sideline, he overheard punter Scott Aldridge asking the linemen, “How many diamonds do we want in our championship rings?”

“I kept hearing that, and I thought, ‘I don’t have a choice. I’ve got to make this kick,” Sisson says with a laugh. “These guys are designing the ring. So, like, no pressure, right?”

Sisson nailed the kick. The unbeaten season lived on for another weekend.


COLORADO ENTERED THE Orange Bowl No. 1 in both polls at 10-1-1. It was facing Notre Dame in a rematch. Georgia Tech entered the Citrus Bowl in Orlando, Florida, ranked No. 2 at 10-0-1 and facing Nebraska, which Colorado had beaten earlier in the season.

The Buffaloes thought a win over the Irish would seal their championship season in both polls. Georgia Tech, however, felt a win over Nebraska could possibly leap them ahead.

“I didn’t really think that Colorado was better than we were,” Jones said. “So when we went into the game, I thought, ‘If we handle our business, we should be No. 1.’ We didn’t know how it was going to turn out. We just believed it would.”

Georgia Tech handled Nebraska 45-21 to finish a remarkable season without a loss. The team returned to its hotel in Orlando to watch Colorado in the Orange Bowl later that night.

The Buffaloes told themselves they could not lose to the Irish again. Adversity hit early, when Hagan went down with a knee injury. Johnson entered the game and strained his hamstring, but played through it. The game turned into a defensive showcase. Colorado clung to a 10-9 lead with 1:05 remaining.

The Buffaloes were forced to punt. Notre Dame had Raghib “The Rocket” Ismail, the best returner in the nation, waiting deep. Swilling, watching with teammates, turned to them and said, ‘Watch this. Rocket is about ready to take it to the house.'”

Sure enough, Ismail took the punt and turned right, hit a crease and raced in for the touchdown. Georgia Tech players described their hotel vibrating and shaking in celebration.

“The crazy thing about that was, I remember Coach Mac telling our punter to kick it out of bounds,” Hagan says. “It was a bad snap, and he got rushed, so he just kicked it right down the middle. And everybody just looked at each other like, ‘Oh, no.’ When he scored everybody was like, ‘You’ve got to be kidding me. Here we go again.'”

But the wave of emotions tilted in another direction, for all three teams.

There was a flag down on the field.

“We knew it was against them,” Hagan said. “We went from frustrated and hurt to elated all in a matter of two seconds.”

Notre Dame safety Greg Davis was called for clipping. The touchdown came off the board. Colorado ended up holding on to win, capping what it believed would be a No. 1 finish in both polls.

“It was surreal,” Johnson said. “It was the end of a journey that started two years before, and the way it played out was a metaphor for life. There was never a linear path to our championship. There were all kinds of fits and starts, disappointments, high points. As a collective, we got it done. And the party was on.”

The final polls did not come out that night. Early the next morning, the phone rang in Sisson’s hotel room in Orlando. His roommate shoved the phone into his hand.

It was a radio station Sisson had never heard of. First question: Do you think that you deserve the national championship? What Sisson didn’t know when he answered, groggy and half asleep, was there was also a Colorado player on the line.

“I tried to take the middle of the road,” Sisson said. “I said, ‘I don’t know what else we could do. We were undefeated.’ I had no idea that they were setting me up. I don’t remember who it was, I don’t even think I got his name, but the Colorado player says, ‘Oh, we deserve it, and he started ripping into us, like our strength of schedule. I was like, ‘You’ve got to be kidding me. I am not awake. I am not up for this conversation right now.'”

The teams did not find out how the final polls had them ranked until they returned to their respective campuses. Colorado was the AP champion, with 39 first-place votes compared to 20 for Georgia Tech. But in a stunning reversal, Georgia Tech finished No. 1 in the UPI coaches’ poll — by one point. For the first time in UPI coaches’ poll history, the No. 1 team entering its final game did not finish No. 1 after a bowl victory.

Colorado players always suspected Nebraska coach Tom Osborne had changed his vote to Georgia Tech. Osborne admitted for the first time this week that he did in fact do that, telling USA Today he changed his vote for two reasons: the Fifth-Down Game, and the fact that Georgia Tech beat Nebraska more handily than Colorado.

“That was extremely disappointing, that our rival and our fellow conference member did that,” Johnson said. “We went into Lincoln under extremely hostile conditions to win that football game that propelled us to the national championship. I thought for someone who was, by all accounts, an extremely classy man, that was one of the most classless things I’ve experienced.”

Without a unanimous champion, the question over who was better that season rages on. Neither team visited the White House, but Swilling said he and his teammates secretly wished they could have settled the debate with a game in the Rose Garden.

After his college career, Bieniemy was drafted by the San Diego Chargers in 1991. The following year, the Chargers hired Georgia Tech coach Bobby Ross.

“I used to argue with him all the time,” Bieniemy says. “I’m going to say this out loud. I would say, ‘We would have kicked y’all’s ass.'”

Now 35 years later, the two teams finally get their long-anticipated meeting. And it is all thanks to Colorado athletic director Rick George, who was the assistant athletic director for football operations at Colorado in 1990. About a decade ago, George made a call to someone he knew at Georgia Tech and said simply: “We should play a game.”

The series was announced in 2016, and George specifically chose 2025 as the first game in the home-and-home, knowing it was the 35-year anniversary of their championship(s).

“I just thought it would be fun and good for both schools, and it would be a good game that people would have a lot of interest in,” George says. “It’s a great opportunity to showcase what we both accomplished in that year.”

Memories of their shared … uh … championship season are never far from the minds of the players and coaches who experienced it. After all, that was the last national championship each school has won.

But with renewed interest in Colorado and coach Deion Sanders, and rising expectations around Georgia Tech in Year 3 under Brent Key, their game Friday has turned into must-see TV. Their shared history is just a cherry on top.

“This is an opportunity for us to have a lot of get back, a lot of talk, a lot of pride and passion, winning that game,” Hagan said. “Over the years, they’ve said what they’ve said. We’ve said what we’ve said. Now someone’s going to be able to win the game.”

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Coach Prime 2.0: What’s next for Deion and the Buffaloes

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Coach Prime 2.0: What's next for Deion and the Buffaloes

BOULDER, Colo. — The texts and calls went unreturned, so Warren Sapp decided to pay Deion Sanders a visit.

Sapp was concerned about Sanders, his friend, Colorado coaching boss and fellow Pro Football Hall of Famer. In the spring, Sanders had left Colorado for his ranch in Texas, where he had spent months recovering from surgery to remove and reconstruct his bladder after a cancerous tumor was detected. But Sanders, who spends much of his life on camera, did not circulate the extent of his condition, even shielding sons Shedeur and Shilo from the details as they went through the NFL draft.

After several attempts to reach Deion Sanders, Sapp called once more and left a message.

“I said, ‘You call buddy at the gate, because I’ll be at the front this afternoon,’ and the gate was open,'” Sapp told ESPN. “I went to see him. I’m just that guy. I’m a bull in a china shop. I’m going through the front door.”

Sapp, who reached seven Pro Bowls by busting through barriers to grab ball carriers, had a similar, albeit gentler, mission in mind with Sanders.

“I just wanted to see my man and put my hands on him and hug him,” Sapp said. “I just wanted him to tell me, ‘I’m fine, I’ll be there.’ And that’s what he said: ‘I’m good.’ … I’m right back in front of him, and the jokes flowed, the stabs and the jabs. He’s still Prime, all day long.”

Deion “Coach Prime” Sanders is still at Colorado to lead his team, following the most serious health scare in a series of medical challenges. An athletic marvel who played in both the NFL and MLB, Sanders has had 14 surgeries since 2021, including the amputation of two toes because of blood clots.

“I had more surgeries out of the game than I did in the game,” he said.

But the setbacks haven’t removed him from the Buffaloes’ sideline, where he will be Friday night as Colorado opens the season against Georgia Tech at Folsom Field (8 p.m. ET, ESPN). Although Sanders is beginning his third year with the Buffaloes, after a five-win improvement last fall, he’s truly kicking off Phase 2 of his time at CU.

Colorado no longer has Sanders’ sons Shedeur and Shilo on the field. The pair of players who headlined the past two Buffaloes seasons, Shedeur and Travis Hunter — the two-way marvel and 2024 Heisman Trophy winner — is gone. So are others from a pass-heavy offense that was fun to watch but also faded in key moments.

So what would Deion 2.0 like to be? A team designed to excel more at the line of scrimmage, display better run-pass balance on offense and transition from finesse to physicality. Players will be coached by a staff perhaps unlike any in college football history, featuring three Pro Football Hall of Famers in Sanders as well as Sapp — the team’s defensive pass rush coordinator after a season as a quality control analyst — and Marshall Faulk, the former NFL MVP who is overseeing the running backs. Faulk was hired in February.

Colorado also is getting a new version of Sanders, who hasn’t lost any charisma but also has a different view on life.

“I’m a better man now than I was two years ago, because of things that God has allowed me to go through …” he said. “So I’m a better man, which makes me a better coach.”

The question now is: Will he lead a better team in 2025?


ON AN AUGUST morning, after a team practice, Sanders bounded into a room and sat down behind a placard that read, “Coach Prime.” On the eve of his 58th birthday, he didn’t look or sound like a man who, months earlier, underwent a major surgery to address a life-threatening condition. The shades, smile and swagger were all there.

“I’m living life right now,” Sanders said. “I’m trying my best to live it to the fullest, considering what transpired.”

At a news conference last month alongside his medical team, Sanders was declared “cured of cancer” by Dr. Janet Kukreja, director of urological oncology at the University of Colorado Cancer Center. But his ordeal caused significant lifestyle changes. Sanders joked that he “truly depends on Depends” and that he and his grandson “see who has the heaviest bag at the end of the night, it’s ridiculous.”

Sanders’ bladder reconstruction causes him to urinate more frequently. A portable toilet has been placed at Colorado’s practice field for Sanders to use and could be on the Buffaloes’ sideline tonight and for future games.

Sanders has maintained a positive outlook, but there’s no downplaying what he went through in the spring.

“He showed me the [postsurgery] pictures,” Sapp said. “We are out of the dark.”

Sanders’ recovery in Texas kept him away from the team for several months. He credited his assistants with maintaining the program during his absence, especially the strength and conditioning staff. Sanders “never had to call 100 times and check on the house,” because he had confidence nothing would veer.

When Sanders rejoined the team in July, he didn’t hold back.

“Every morning, he rises to the occasion,” Faulk told ESPN. “He’s out there at practice. He’s not just a lame-duck coach. Like, he’s out there, he’s fired up, whatever energy he has, he’s giving it. There’s no difference in him before he had the surgery, to now. There’s been no falloff.”

Faulk laughed and shook his head.

“It’s literally amazing,” he continued. “It’s divine, in a sense. People are always listening to him praising the lord and [saying] God is good and this stuff. Then, to see the video, tubes hanging out of him, it’s like, ‘Wait, what?’ It’s crazy because it’s so hard to believe. But if you believe he’s been put on this earth to do something special, as he’s always done, then it starts to make sense.”


SANDERS WILL ALWAYS elicit a range of reactions. But the fact that he’s still at Colorado, without his sons on the field, at nowhere near peak health, is notable. When he took the CU job, many thought without the draw of coaching Shedeur and Shilo, he would be gone by now.

But Deion Sanders’ commitment to Colorado has extended beyond his family history. In March, he received a new five-year, $54 million contract that makes him the highest-paid coach in the Big 12 and among the 10 highest-paid in the sport. The money is notable, but Sanders, a marketing machine outside of his coaching role, already has plenty. The commitment is more significant.

Colorado athletic director Rick George called the negotiation “very easy,” even though the finalizing process took longer than he and others anticipated.

“We were both very thoughtful about what we wanted,” George said. “[Sanders] wanted to know that he was going to be at Colorado for a while. He loves the city, he loves the state, he loves the community, he loves the university. I just think he’s in it for the long haul.”

Sanders had no connection to Colorado before he arrived. His personal ties are much stronger in Florida, Texas and Atlanta, where he played for the Falcons and Braves. Sanders’ name surfaced last year as a potential candidate to coach his former team, the Dallas Cowboys, and could continue to generate buzz for other jobs if Colorado can build on last year’s success.

But for now, Sanders seemingly has set up roots in the Rockies.

“I don’t think that he has a desire to go to the NFL, because I think he has a desire to impact kids, and this is the way that he can do that,” said Fox Sports analyst Joel Klatt, a former Colorado quarterback. “If he’s healthy, he’s going to coach. Colorado is perfect for Deion, just like Deion is perfect for Colorado. As much as that program needed him, and they needed him desperately, I think it’s a perfect fit for him. They gave him the keys to the castle.

“He can be completely himself. He can be totally authentic.”

Sanders isn’t the only one who feels as though he belongs at Colorado.


FAULK’S ARRIVAL AND Sapp’s promotion are not for show. They are there to help Sanders usher in a new way for Colorado to play.

The Buffs have made undeniable improvement since 2022, the year before Sanders arrived, when they went 1-11 and were outscored 534-185. Last year’s jump to nine wins was fueled in part by an improved defense under first-year coordinator Robert Livingston, who is back this fall.

But so much of Colorado’s offense seemed to revolve around two players.

“We don’t have his son, the quarterback that can score from anywhere on the field, and the unicorn that we’ve only seen once in a lifetime,” Sapp said, referring to Shedeur Sanders and Hunter.

The hope at Colorado is that its collective strengths can help offset the loss of genuine star power. Shedeur Sanders completed 71.8% of his passes for 7,364 yards with 64 touchdowns and 13 interceptions, while breaking more than 100 CU records. Hunter was a modern-day iron man, leading the FBS in snaps played in both 2023 and 2024, while recording seven interceptions, 16 pass breakups and 153 receptions for 1,989 yards and 20 touchdowns in a Buffaloes uniform.

Their departures reinforce Colorado’s need to win through more traditional means. Over the past two seasons, the Buffaloes rank last in the FBS in rushing at 67 yards per game — 19 yards fewer than the next lowest team (Hawai’i). They’re also 132nd in both rushing attempts per game (28) and runs of 10 yards or more (66). Despite record-setting passing by Shedeur Sanders, Colorado also allowed 99 sacks since 2023, most in the FBS.

Colorado’s approach wasn’t sustainable, especially without Hunter and Shedeur Sanders. Enter Sapp and Faulk.

“Nobody was pulling me off my couch but Deion,” Sapp said.

Faulk had never played with Sanders, but the two crossed paths while working as analysts at NFL Network, where Sapp also worked after retirement. Since retiring in 2007, Faulk had been approached by both NFL and college teams about coaching.

“I say this in the nicest way: I’m not a regular dude,” Faulk said. “If I’m going to work for somebody, or coach under somebody, it’s got to be somebody.”

During Sanders’ tenure, he has increased the NFL flavor of his staff. Former NFL head coach Pat Shurmur directs the offense, while former NFL players work with position groups such as cornerbacks (Kevin Mathis) and offensive line (Andre Gurode and George Hegamin). Byron Leftwich, a former NFL quarterback and offensive coordinator, joined the staff this summer. But the three gold jackets in the building speak from a platform that few college coaches can. Sanders, Sapp and Faulk have combined for four Super Bowl rings, five NFL offensive or defensive player of the year awards, 23 Pro Bowl selections and 13 first-team All-Pro selections.

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2:08

Josh Pate: Being competitive means success for Deion Sanders

Josh Pate and Joey Galloway discuss what they think a successful 2025 season of football will look like for Deion Sanders and Colorado.

Faulk’s presence, and Hall of Fame credentials, are meant to boost the running back room. For Faulk, it starts with teaching the position. He will ask Colorado’s running backs to draw their favorite play on the whiteboard. Then, he asks them to draw the defensive set best equipped to stop the play and one where the play can be most effective.

“It hits as a player, just understanding, like, coming from him, what he’s done, he’s proof,” Buffaloes running back DeKalon Taylor said. “He’s not just telling us something that he hasn’t done himself. He helps make the game easier, helps slow it down, helps us truly understand it.”

In his role, Sapp is taking a similar approach, trying to teach the innate tenacity he played with to Buffs defensive linemen.

“I play 3-tech, the same as he played,” defensive tackle Amari McNeill said. “I love having Coach Sapp around, every day, on my side. He says, ‘Don’t wait for no action. Meet the action.’ It helps me play faster.”

Although the defense undoubtedly made strides in 2024, Colorado still ranks 117th in runs allowed of 10 yards or more, and 105th in third-down conversions against during Sanders’ tenure. The pass rush has generally been a strength, especially with Livingston’s aggressive scheme, but Colorado also gave up too many conversions.

“He wants to run it,” Sapp said, nodding at Faulk, “I want to stop the run and earn the right to rush. I believe in dominating the LOS, the line of scrimmage. I live that way. That’s the way the game’s always going to be played.”


DEION SANDERS SUBSCRIBES to the same belief. The difference now is Colorado thinks it has the roster to achieve that vision.

“The next phase is: We’re going to win differently, but we’re going to win,” Sanders said. “I don’t know if it’s going to be the Hail Marys at the end of the game, but it’s going to be hell during the game, because we want to be physical, and we want to run the heck out of the football.”

Sanders was referencing the Hail Mary pass from Shedeur Sanders to LaJohntay Wester at the end of regulation against Baylor, which sent the game into overtime that the Buffaloes eventually won 38-31. The Baylor game was one of just two that Colorado won by single digits, but the team hopes depth in areas such as offensive line and running back will lead to further dominance.

The offensive line was the weakest position group when Sanders arrived, but the group returns several experienced players, led by Jordan Seaton, who became the Colorado freshman to make 13 starts last fall. Colorado also added notable line transfers such as Xavier Hill, a first-team All-AAC selection at Memphis, and Zy Crisler, who started 28 games at Illinois.

“It’s kind of hard to fool the defense when you’re passing the ball so many times a game,” Seaton said. “So this year we’re going to balance it out and keep everybody guessing.”

Colorado’s emphasis on offensive line play shows not just in the number of players but coaches. After Phil Loadholt left for Mississippi State, Deion Sanders appointed three offensive line coaches: Gurode, Hegamin and Gunnar White, who leads the room.

“It’s a bunch of high expectations,” Hill said. “Everybody wants to play, everybody wants to be great. We don’t just have five, we have 10.”

Colorado also thinks it has capable options at running back in returnees Dallan Hayden and Micah Welch, and transfers such as Taylor (Incarnate Word) and Simeon Price (Coastal Carolina). Sanders said “at least” three backs will be in the rotation.

“I believe that they’re going to be far better at the line of scrimmage than they have been over the last two years,” Klatt said. “This is a program that is foundationally stronger than it was two years ago, foundationally stronger than it was last year, and we’ll just see what they can do in one-possession games.”

For Deion Sanders, Phase 2 at Colorado will bring adjustments. He has downplayed the shift at times, saying his job is easier without having to balance being a father and a coach.

But he also entered coaching because of his sons, and recently acknowledged it’s “not easy” without them.

“He’s building a legacy here,” Seaton said. “He started with his kids and he got to finish with them, but this journey, we’re his new kids now, so he’s going to finish with us.”

After a difficult spring and summer, Sanders looks forward to beginning a new chapter at Colorado.

“First, it was the challenge of coming to this level. Could we change the game? We did,” he said. “Then, can you consistently do it with the players you have? Can you win? We did. Now it’s: Can you do it without Travis and Shedeur? It’s always going to be a challenge, I don’t mind that. I stand up to those.”

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College football hot seats: Brace yourselves for potential blue-blood turnover

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College football hot seats: Brace yourselves for potential blue-blood turnover

The college football job market took an expected turn last year.

The headwinds of financial uncertainty, combined with a record number of jobs turning over in 2023, led to a quieter year on the coaching carousel, especially at high-end schools.

Last offseason, there was a dip in head coaching changes at FBS football, with 30 total. The year before, a record 32 jobs turned over, per NCAA statistics.

Notably last offseason, no jobs turned over in the SEC and there was just one in the Big Ten (Purdue). Only West Virginia and UCF turned over in the Big 12, and the ACC had three changes (North Carolina, Wake Forest and Stanford).

None of those jobs would remotely qualify as blue bloods, which has the industry bracing for what could end up being a big year for high-end coaching turnover. The carousel rests for only so long.

That has led to a fascinating tension that will serve as the backdrop for this year’s edition: In an era when a vast majority of schools are scrambling for resources and revenue, are schools ready to pay big buyout money to part with their coaches? For big movement this year, there will have to be one or two big buyouts.

“The signs are that it’s going to be a pretty big year,” said an industry source. “There’s 15 to 20 schools in flux, and it was really light last year. That combination lends itself to a big year.

“But the question is whether 6-6 is worth making a change when you need to find 20-plus million? I think the trend is going to schools looking not to make the decision.”

There’s a counter to that perspective, and it’s a peek at the college basketball market from last year. Places like Indiana, Villanova, Iowa, Minnesota, NC State, Texas and Utah all paid sizable buyouts to kick-start new eras.

“I think people are past the rev share issues,” another industry source said. “They were stalled out last year in the football carousel, but they didn’t have any trouble getting going in the basketball carousel.”

Jimbo Fisher’s football buyout from Texas A&M in 2023 was $76.8 million, which included $19.2 million within 60 days and $7.2 million annually with no offset or mitigation. That’s the Secretariat-at-the-Belmont runaway winner for the biggest in the history of the sport.

The second-biggest public buyout belongs to Auburn, which fired Gus Malzahn in 2020 and owed him $21.7 million.

If this is indeed going to be an active coaching carousel among high-end jobs, the Malzahn number will need to be toppled. And the Fisher buyout has a chance to be as well.

Ultimately, the case for an active coaching carousel starts with big-name jobs that are in flux, the so-called market moves that ripple through the industry. A majority of those potential openings — although not all — would involve heavy lifting from a buyout perspective.

One source pointed out that schools in the SEC and Big Ten will have new line items that could make a big buyout more tenable, as there’s an influx of CFP money coming.

One school told ESPN that it has budgeted an additional $8 million additional for bowl revenue for the new CFP starting in 2026. (The specific amount is tricky, as there’s a flurry of variables that make a finite number tough to pin down.)

That makes the particulars of the buyouts important. How much money is up front? Is there offset and mitigation?

Here’s a look at the jobs with the buyout tension that could set the market, as well as other jobs worth monitoring across each conference.

Jump to a topic:
Big buyouts | Other Big Ten
Other SEC | Other ACC
Big 12 | Group of 5

Big buyouts

USC | Lincoln Riley (26-14 entering Year 4)

Buyout: More than $80 million

Nearly everything has changed since Lincoln Riley came to Los Angeles. Most notably, the results. After an 11-3 debut in 2022, he has gone 8-5 and 7-6 with losses along the way to Maryland, Minnesota and UCLA. The splash of the hire has worn off amid close losses, media clashes and modest expectations for 2025.

His winning percentage with the Trojans is 65.0%, which is lower than Clay Helton’s USC winning percentage (65.7) when he was fired. It’s also nearly 20% worse than his Oklahoma win percentage (84.6).

Many of the core people Riley brought with him from Oklahoma have been removed or seen their roles diminish, with the firing of strength coach Bennie Wylie and the hiring of new general manager Chad Bowden recent examples of significant personnel changes around him.

Athletic director Jennifer Cohen didn’t hire Riley. She also has made clear that there are championship expectations. She has invested accordingly, including a new football performance center that’s under construction and plenty of staff infrastructure and NIL financial gunpowder.

Although firing Riley would generate eye-popping financial headlines, the understanding is that there is offset and mitigation on his deal. That would diminish the number owed him over time. He’s too gifted a playcaller and offensive mind to sit out through the length of his deal, which was originally a 10-year contract that began in the 2023 season. (His buyout to leave is minimal if he chose to go elsewhere, but leaving that much guaranteed money behind would be hard.)

Without high-end results, there will continue to be uncertainty. USC will be favored in its first four games, and then it enters one of the most difficult stretches on any schedule this year — at Illinois, Michigan, at Notre Dame and at Nebraska. (There’s a bye between the trips to South Bend and Lincoln.)

That means by Nov. 1, we’ll get a sense of what Riley truly has built in his fourth season and where his tenure is headed.

The best news for Riley is there’s hope on the way, as USC has the No. 1 recruiting class for 2026, which includes 19 ESPN 300 prospects.


Florida State | Mike Norvell (33-27 entering Year 6)

Buyout: $58 million

This was unthinkable two years ago, when FSU went undefeated in the regular season and won the ACC. But since quarterback Jordan Travis’ injury and the subsequent College Football Playoff snub following 2023, everything has gone wrong for FSU.

In the wake of FSU’s 2-10 season last year, Norvell has overhauled the coaching staff, given up playcalling and brought in new coordinators. Florida State can’t really afford to fire him, but it also can’t afford to trudge through another miserable season like last year.

Norvell also agreed to a restructured new deal, which includes donating $4.5 million of his salary to the program in 2025. Effectively, Norvell took a performance pay cut. (He can earn that back, too, as included in the new deal is a $750,000 bonus for nine wins.)

The 2024 implosion came at a time when Florida State had actively — and awkwardly — been lobbying to find a new conference home. That bluster has died down, and the financials of leaving the ACC are clear. FSU’s need to get back to winning is rooted in those grander ambitions.

What’s important here if FSU does have to move on is that Norvell’s remaining money is subject to offset and mitigation. He’d likely be a strong candidate to coach again, which would blunt some of the financial pain.

Norvell went 23-4 in 2022 and 2023, which built up some grace. Here’s what no one knows: What is enough progress for 2025?


Oklahoma | Brent Venables (22-17 entering Year 4)

Buyout: $36.1 million

Oklahoma extended Venables through the 2029 season in the summer of 2024. The Sooners subsequently went 6-7 in their SEC debut, which led to some scrutiny of that deal.

Venables is popular in Norman, dating back to his time as an assistant. Like many defensive head coaches early in his career, he made a misstep at offensive coordinator that quelled the momentum from OU’s 10-2 season in its Big 12 finale in 2023.

There’s an athletic director shift coming at Oklahoma, with Joe Castiglione retiring. There also has been new blood in the football program, with general manager Jim Nagy coming in this offseason from the Senior Bowl.

This season is a fascinating litmus test for OU’s viability in the SEC. The Sooners have fortified the roster with a significant upgrade at quarterback (John Mateer), expect better health at wide receiver and have made holistic upgrades.

But the reality is that most teams are going to lose half their games in the SEC, and it’d be a poor time for Venables to have a bad year. The Sooners also play seven teams ranked in the preseason Top 25, and that doesn’t include Missouri or Auburn.


Wisconsin | Luke Fickell (13-13 entering Year 3)

Buyout: More than $25 million

Wisconsin ended last year with five straight losses and missed a bowl for the first time since 2001.

Wisconsin extended Fickell after last year, but that didn’t impact his buyout. There’s optimism for a change of trajectory, as Wisconsin is undergoing a schematic shift back to the school’s identity roots as a running offense. It will be a welcomed change after the failed Air Raid experiment.

The factor that has this job coming up in industry circles is Wisconsin’s schedule, which might make it difficult for the Badgers to take a significant step forward. They play at Alabama, at Michigan, Iowa, Ohio State, at Oregon, Washington, at Indiana, Illinois and at Minnesota.

Wisconsin could be a better team but have a similar record. The institutional history, Fickell’s general track record and buyout expense suggest patience is likely.

Other jobs worth monitoring

Big Ten

Maryland: Mike Locksley’s strong run at Maryland took a hairpin turn last year, as the Terps went 4-8, 1-8 in Big Ten play and Locksley admitted he lost the locker room. There’s a lot of goodwill from Locksley’s three consecutive bowl games, which hadn’t happened since Ralph Friedgen’s tenure in 2008. But there’s also a new athletic director, Jim Smith, and an expectation to return to winning. Maryland is heavily favored in its three games to open the year (FAU, Northern Illinois and Towson), which could quiet things. Locksley would be owed $13.4 million if fired, a considerable amount for Maryland. He’d also have 50% of that due in 60 days, a sizable check for a university not flush with cash.


SEC

Auburn: Hugh Freeze faces a classic win-or-else season at Auburn. The Tigers have strong talent upgrades from both the portal and recruiting. But Auburn is not a traditionally patient place, so Freeze’s 11-14 record there needs to improve quickly. He’d be owed just under $15.4 million, which is expensive but not something Auburn would flinch at if there are modest results again. Don’t expect him to be around if Auburn has another losing season.

Arkansas: The goofiest buyout in college sports looms over any potential decision on Sam Pittman. If he’s .500 or above since 2021 — he enters the year 27-24 in that time frame — Arkansas would have to pay him nearly $9.8 million. To keep the buyout at this higher level, he’d need to win five games. If Pittman goes 4-8, the number would be nearly $6.9 million. Credit Pittman, who revived Arkansas from the depths of Chad Morris’ era and keeps on surviving. If he’s above four wins, Arkansas would face scrutiny for issuing such a bizarre contract and the extra money it’d cost the program to fire him.

Florida: The temperature on Billy Napier has cooled considerably, and the Gators have a top-flight quarterback and great expectations again. He’s 19-19 through three seasons, and his buyout remains eye-popping at $20.4 million. (There’s no offset or mitigation on the deal.) Athletic director Scott Stricklin gave Napier a midseason vote of confidence last year by announcing he’d return, and Florida responded with a strong finishing kick by winning four straight to close the year. Stricklin clearly has his back. And per an ESPN source, Stricklin has three additional years added to his contract, which now runs through 2030. That bodes well for Napier, as they are clearly aligned.


ACC

Stanford: General manager Andrew Luck’s first significant hire looms. With interim coach Frank Reich clear that he’s on The Farm short term, Luck needs to decide whether he wants someone from the college ranks or the NFL. What’s unique about this job is that the hire will be made through the shared prism of how Luck sees the identity of the program, not necessarily just a coach coming in and bringing the identity.

Virginia Tech: It’s a classic prove-it year for Brent Pry, who has two years remaining on his original contract. He’d be owed $6.2 million if fired on Dec. 1. He’s 16-21 over three years and 1-12 in one-score games, and Tech’s ambitions are clearly greater than that. Considerable improvement is needed, or Tech will hit reset as the administration appears motivated by the fear of getting left behind in the next iteration of the collegiate landscape. Athletic director Whit Babcock has hired Pry and Justin Fuente, which would mean his future could be in flux if a change comes here. ADs don’t often get to hire three coaches.

Virginia: There was a discernable uptick in investment and aggression by Virginia in the portal this offseason. That’s a sign the pressure is ratcheted up on Tony Elliott, who is 11-23 through three seasons. He entered a job with arguably the worst facilities in power conference football. He also dealt with unspeakable tragedy: the murder of three players in a campus shooting. UVA showed signs of progress last year with five wins, and that needs to continue. Elliott is owed more than $11.1 million if fired on Dec. 1, and UVA is more likely to need to direct that to the roster than a payout.

Cal: Can Cal do better than Justin Wilcox? It’s unlikely, as he has led the team to four bowls since taking over in 2017. Cal has no athletic director, landed in an awkward geographic league and is working to financially catch up to the rest of the sport. Wilcox would be owed $10.9 million if he’s fired, which would seemingly be too rich for Cal to handle. But with so much change afoot, there’s an industry expectation that something could happen here, as Wilcox could also have other suitors.


Big 12

Oklahoma State: The school forced Mike Gundy into a reduced salary and buyout. Those are fluorescent signs of a school preparing to move on, although the buyout remains significant at $15 million. It would be a seminal moment for a school to fire a coach who has more than 100 more wins than the next most successful coach in school history. Gundy is 169-88, but the program fell off a cliff last year at 3-9. The roster doesn’t offer much optimism for drastic improvement, and essentially the entire coaching staff is new. Gundy has done some of his best work with low expectations, and that’s what OSU has in 2025.

Arizona: Arizona’s dip from 10-3 in Jedd Fisch’s first year to 4-8 in Brent Brennan’s first season has led to scrutiny. Also, there has been a new athletic director brought in since Brennan was hired. The buyout price is steep at $10.6 million, but it’s something Arizona is expected to consider if there’s no improvement. It doesn’t help matters for Brennan that rival Arizona State burst into the CFP in Kenny Dillingham’s second year.

Cincinnati: There have been growing pains entering the Big 12 for the Bearcats, who are 4-14 in league play in the first two years. There’s an expectation for continued improvement in Scott Satterfield’s third year, as he went 3-9 in Year 1 and jumped to 5-7 last year. The Bearcats lost their final five games last year. The buyout tab is nearly $12 million, which is a lot for a school that moved its opener against Nebraska to Kansas City for financial reasons.

Baylor: The temperature on Dave Aranda’s seat has cooled exponentially compared with the past two seasons. He snapped a skid of two losing seasons by going 8-5 last year and 6-3 in the Big 12. A change would require a precipitous downturn, as Aranda is beloved in Waco. There’s an unforgiving schedule, however, that opens with Auburn and a trip to SMU. His buyout is in the $12 million range, and it’s unlikely to be tested.


Group of 5

American: The American might have been the biggest surprise in the 2024 coaching carousel, with FAU, Tulsa and Charlotte all firing coaches after just two seasons. Temple, Rice and East Carolina also fired their coaches. Oddly, the worries over revenue share spending didn’t intimidate these schools from making moves.

There’s really only one job squarely in the crosshairs, and that’s Trent Dilfer at UAB, who is 7-17 in two seasons. He’d be owed nearly $2.5 million if dismissed. UAB has struggled to translate its strong run in Conference USA to the American since joining in 2023.

Conference USA: This also projects to be a quieter year in Conference USA, with only Louisiana Tech having a coach potentially in flux. Sonny Cumbie went 5-8 last year after opening with back-to-back 3-9 seasons. He’ll need continued improvement to stick around for that school’s eventual transition to the Sun Belt. He’d be owed nearly $875,000 if let go, as 2026 is the last year of his deal.

MAC: There’s already one MAC job open, after Kenni Burns’ firing this spring at Kent State. There are significant financial challenges both there and at Akron, which also could be in flux with Joe Moorhead entering Year 4 at 8-28. (He’d be owed about $650,000 if fired, which is significant.) There’s still a market for Moorhead as a college offensive coordinator, which could be the pivot if the Zips don’t get moving. (Perhaps the NFL, too.) Overall, this looks like a quieter year in the MAC.

Mountain West: The lack of a contract extension for Jay Norvell at Colorado State is a smoke signal that a decision is coming. He has just one year left on his deal and would be owed $1.5 million if fired before Dec. 1. He also wouldn’t have to pay any money to go elsewhere. Norvell has an administration that didn’t hire him and, despite solid improvement, there will be speculation over his future until something changes contractually. Colorado State went 8-5 last year and 6-1 in the Mountain West. Norvell is 16-21 in his three years.

Sun Belt: Two coaches will be watched closely here. Tim Beck is 14-12 at Coastal Carolina over two seasons, having reached bowls in each of them. He had the misfortune of replacing Jamey Chadwell, who averaged more than 10 wins over his final three seasons. Beck would be owed $1.5 million if Coastal fired him, and Coastal has both a new athletic director and president. Ricky Rahne at Old Dominion is 20-30 overall and still in search of his first winning season there. He has just one year remaining on his deal after this one, a sign that a decision on his future one way or the other is imminent. He’d be owed $600,000 if fired.

Pac-12: None.

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