We have a reputation for being an awfully tough town when it comes to sports, when it comes to our expectations about our teams and the failure to manage those expectations. We are supposed to be grossly impatient, and eager to feed off the first three-game losing streak to have coaches exiled to Peoria.
But may I present the case of Louisiana State University.
Until late Saturday night, is was all but certain that LSU was about to buy out its football coach, Les Miles. These are transactions that happen every day, of course, especially in the dog-eat-dog world of college football, particularly in the dog-obliterate-dog world of the Southeastern Conference, specifically in the dog-incinerate-dog world of the SEC’s Western Division.
Miles has made a grievous mistake in his 11 years at LSU: He has proven, quite regularly, that he is not Nick Saban (who happens to have preceded Miles at LSU, a shadow that has loomed over him like the New York City skyline for every second of his tenure in Baton Rouge). This is not supposed to be an insult: Nobody is Nick Saban. Saban is the best college coach alive today, and it isn’t close.
Incidentally? It’s not like Miles has slipped on banana peels in his time there, either. He has won a national championship. He has been the runner-up another time, when LSU had the misfortune of actually beating Alabama, but beating the Crimson Tide too early in the season to have finished them off, allowing Bama a window to make the BCS title game, in which the Tide thrashed the Tigers.
Miles is 111-32 after Saturday’s 19-7 win over Texas A&M.
Think about that record again: 111-32. His average record in 11 years at LSU: 10-2.
And yet LSU’s boosters, by all accounts, was prepared to pay him up to $11 million not to coach there anymore — $11 million not to win 10 games every year, $11 million not to be in the national title picture every year (as recently as three weeks ago, LSU was No. 2 in the playoff rankings), $11 million not to recruit the talent-laden classes that have become both his signature and his undoing … before making a stunning about-face in the midst of a sea of angry backlash across the country, after Miles was carried off the field at Tiger Stadium Saturday night, fans chanting his name.
That, friends, is a tough room, even if he wound up spared.
Now let’s turn a mirror on ourselves, shall we — we who live in this allegedly unforgiving market. Giants coach Tom Coughlin is about as close to Les Miles in profile as there is: a couple of huge successes, one of them four years ago, one of them eight, and a lot of frustrating losses since that have, admittedly, frayed the nerves of a lot of Giants fans.
But not the Giants owners, at least not enough for them to have hastened his departure. Coughlin has been given time and space to try and figure something out this year. That may or may not happen, but even if it doesn’t, nobody can say Coughlin wasn’t treated fairly. Least of all Coughlin.
Remember when the Yankees were a managerial meat grinder? They may not yet be the Steelers (three coaches — three! – in the 46 seasons since 1969. THREE!) but they have had just two managers in the 20 seasons spanning 1996-2015, and Joe Girardi hasn’t won a postseason game since Game 5 of the 2012 ALDS. Yes, there are some Yankees fans who wouldn’t exactly weep if Girardi were replaced, but the point is the Yankees’ leadership still is enamored with him.
Honestly, who was the last New York coach or manager you could say was fired unfairly? Joe Torre (though it did seem in retrospect that era had run its course by 2007)? Willie Randolph (though it did seem he had lost the team in the summer of 2007)? Rex Ryan (though he also was spared at least once before the end came, and the end came after a 4-12 season)?
In truth, this is as patient a time for New York’s coaches and managers as there’s ever been. Good for them. Good that they don’t work in a big, bad, brutal market. Like Baton Rouge, La.
Whack Back at Vac
Timothy Foster: On the Giants and Jets being on at the same time Sunday: If you are a married couple, one Giants fan and one Jets, then I say shame on the Giants fan (four Super Bowls) for not converting the Jets fan (two division titles since the merger) by now.
Vac: You know how tricky those mixed marriages can be.
Hal Schoenberg: You give fans too much credit. They booed Porzingis because they know less about basketball than they think. He clearly had the most potential of anyone remaining on the board. Yes, he could have been a bust, but he also could turn out to be a great player. How many of the other players that were available could be said to have the same potential?
Vac: This is going to be a fun debate for years to come.
@ps_sobol: Mets fans are thankful for you keeping the Wilpons honest. I look forward to next season and no more malpractice.
@MikeVacc: I believe a malpractice-free season would be a welcome thing for many, many folks.
John Davidson: Thanks for the mention [Monday] in your story about players who get booed, as it brought back some great memories.
Vac: In case you were wondering: Yes, sometimes the athletes do get over the boos.
Vac’s Whacks
Luke Walton may not be getting any official credit for any of these wins during the Warriors’ torrid start, but he is going to wind up with a head-coaching job somewhere out of it before his 37th birthday. That’s a fair trade-off.
As for Luke’s old man … if St. John’s hadn’t made its first two games of the Maui Invitational quasi-unwatchable on its own, then Big Red would have done that with one more story about trees, bicycles or the books on his night stand.
Why do I find it impossible not to envision Tony Romo in a Jets uniform before it’s all over for him?
I’m way late to this party, but I don’t know that I’ve ever seen anything quite like “Fargo” on television, ever.