Watching Nick Saban, a grown-ass adult man and head coach of arguably the best football program in the country, throw a full on temper tantrum this past weekend because a reporter had the temerity to ask him a question about quarterbacks gave me flashbacks. I remembered all those times Bob Diaco said something utterly, embarrassingly batshit insane. And Bama fans are standing by their man, pretending that kind of behavior is normal and appropriate (spoiler: it’s not). And hey, I understand it. We drank the Bob Diaco Kool-Aid for far too long. But you know what’s nice? Not having to defend your team’s coach when they do or say something indefensible. Not getting on Twitter to find the entire college football universe mocking your coach and your program. Not being a goddamn laughingstock.
The road back to UConn hasn’t been an easy one for Randy Edsall. There were a lot of hurt feelings when he left for Maryland, and I am sure there was plenty of schadenfreude across the Nutmeg State when he was fired. When UConn announced he was taking over the football program from the noted lunatic Diaco, some were comforted by the idea of a steadying hand, and others were still just mad.
But after three years of being absolutely mortified by a guy who talked on the radio about dogs leaving giant steamers and fish cakes and energy vampires and I don’t even know what the fuck else he never made any damn sense, I am truly thankful to have a coach who not only isn’t out there embarrassing us every time he opens his mouth, but is actually restoring some pride in our program, even if the win totals don’t reflect that this season.
Back in the day it wasn’t unheard of for Edsall media relations to be, shall we say testy? And that’s not to say he isn’t above a good troll – like when he asked the Horde to name which of his players wasn’t able to practice that day. But Edsall is more likely to make headlines now talking about how players should get paid, and how coaches salaries are artificially inflated because they aren’t. Never thought I would see Woke As Hell Randy Edsall, but here we are and I love it. Edsall is making well under market value for FBS college football at $1 million a year (I know), so he’s walking the walk, too. Sincerely, I hope he never stops banging this drum, because without someone in his position advocating for these kids, nothing will ever change.
I’m also really enjoying his adorable grandpa schtick. On his radio show the other day he had a whole rant about how kids never know what it’s like to be uncomfortable – like when you used to have to call a girl you wanted to date and occasionally the dad would pick up – and you’d have to deal with that. Honestly, I am tickled by this. This is what I want to hear on the coaches show, not the incoherent ramblings of a madman.
Edsall seems to have settled into this elder statesman role. Things really feel different than they did the last time he was here. I spoke to former UConn QB Dan Orlovsky, who is still close to Edsall and the program, to get his take on Edsall 2.0. “He can’t scream and yell like he used to,” Orlovsky told me with a laugh. He isn’t “softer,” per se, but “he understands he has to do it differently now.” But Orlovsky was quick to say that while his approach may be different, Edsall, fundamentally, is still the same person. “Who he is, his moral compass, what he believes, that hasn’t changed.”
We can chalk it up to age, time, failing at Maryland (with its absolute hellscape of an athletics department), recognition that this is his last job, experience in different programs or any number of factors. Orlovsky also noted that Jasper Howard’s death certainly had an impact on him. I know with the certainty of experience that this must be true. Grief – real, to-the-bone grief – changes everything about you. It reorganizes every cell in your body, every synapse, every feeling, every thought. It would have been impossible to lose someone the way Edsall lost Jazz and not have it change you in your soul. Orlovsky told me that Edsall sees his players as sons, and his return to UConn has meant everything to his former players. When you break down the reasons to come to UConn – the education, the chance to play at the next level, the program, all of it – “he was the reason I chose the school.”
“More important than the wins, the transformation of the program, the Fiesta Bowl, is the impactful relationships he has,” Orlovsky said. “People who have gone through it with him are family.”
Orlovsky talked about Edsall’s reputation for developing players, and developing men, and I asked him what’s something about Edsall that other people might not know about him.
“Every time I talk to him, he tells me he loves me,” he said. “Some people might think it’s cheesy, but I just think it’s genuine.”
I don’t think it’s cheesy, either.
Would I like to root for a team that wins more games? Sure. Of course. But if winning means having to excuse the inexcusable, if it means being embarrassed by the coach or our program, then no thanks. I would rather my team put up a losing record, but know that those players are getting the coaching, the education, the experience, the support and, yes, the love that is supposed to be the point of college sports than watch my team win and know that those same people are burying sexual assault or domestic violence charges, literally running a kid to death or whatever else festers on the underbelly of college sports. I’d rather support someone who comes to work every day with dignity and honor and who tries to instill that in his players. Who views his most important job as giving his players more opportunities on and off the field. Watching your team win it all is amazing. It’s a blast. But it’s not worth selling your soul. And it’s really comforting to know that isn’t happening at UConn.
