Nick Saban was named coach of the Miami Dolphins on Christmas Day 2004, to near-universal acclaim. He won a BCS national championship with LSU and had won everywhere he went. Sure, there were rumors about his enormous ago, the way he berated secretaries, how he was a cruel taskmaster, how assistants despised him. In a poll of college assistants, he was named the most difficult coach to work for in the nation. But hell, my ‘Fins were coming off a 4-12 season and had endured Dave “My ‘stache distracts you from my incompetence” Wannstedt and Jimmy “As a coach, I am a great tuna fisherman” Johnson, so I would have endured Pol Pot as our coach if he knew how to find the seams in a cover-2 defense. Little did I know that our new coach was a colossal prick who fancied himself a Jedi.
Armed with a five-year, $22 million contract, Saban set to work trying to fix the ‘Fins. Well, actually, his first order of business was to ban the media from the facility. Then he made his coaching staff off-limits to reporters. But then he got into the war room to come up with a draft strategy. What did he come up with? Pick only players he had coached, coached against or once recruited in college. That’s how we ended up taking the second-best running back on his own team as the No. 2 overall pick in the entire draft. We wanted him to share duties with Ricky Williams, though, so to make sure he didn’t learn too quickly and get all uppity, we made sure he held out as long as possible so he wouldn’t be able to contribute until later in the season. That was a resounding success. After starting out 3-7, we won our last six games so we could create a false sense of confidence and get the worst draft pick possible without making the playoffs. Mission accomplished.
Back to the war room for draft prep. Again making sure to target only SEC or Big 10 players—the two leagues he had most recently coached in—he scooped up Jason Allen from Tennessee with the 16th pick. No one knew whether he was a safety or a cornerback, he missed most of his senior season with a shoulder injury, he needed knee surgery and a YouTube video popped up showing him getting steamrolled repeatedly by Brown … how was he possibly available? Giddy with delight, Saban grabbed the defensive back, then allowed him to have the second-longest holdout among the entire rookie class. When he got to camp, Saban—reputedly a defensive backs guru—moved him to cornerback for just long enough to make sure that Allen was as confused as Lance Bass at a groupie convention, then moved him back to safety. This ensured that Allen would go six games without playing a defensive snap, cementing his status as the biggest bust of the entire first-round draft class this year.
Perhaps the Allen debacle was a way for Saban to distract everyone from his pursuit of overweight, one-legged Daunte Culpepper of the Minnesota Vikings. After outrageous contract demands and his obstinacy in working out at a strip mall instead of team facilities, the Vikes could not wait to have someone take him off their hands. He was coming off a devastating injury after throwing six touchdowns and 12 interceptions, so he was a prized commodity to just about every—well, every team in Miami. Luckily, San Diego had let Drew Brees enter free agency, meaning that a more polished quarterback was available—for no compensation! And his salary demands were more reasonable! In his infinite wisdom, however, Saban decided that he had one second-round pick too many and too few underachievers on the team, so he traded for Culpepper and let Brees head to the Saints. The sighs of relief in Minnesota could be heard all the way in Boca Raton.
Apparently scared of Culpepper’s posse, Saban allowed the quarterback to convince him that he was “fine,” so he allowed him to start the season. Obviously hobbling, Culpepper was sacked 74 times in the first five games, throwing two touchdowns and three picks. Then he yelled at Saban during a practice, so Miami pretended he had a shoulder injury and benched him—for fellow underachiever Joey Harrington. Then, during a rambling press conference, Saban said that Culpepper had forgotten to rehabilitate his knee while he tried to play, so he wouldn’t be playing anymore. “But what about his shoulder injury?” asked reporters. “He can’t play until he’s more mobile,” answered Saban. “But he runs on his legs, not his arms, right?” asked reporters. “You’re all assholes,” Saban ruminated.
As the team slipped to 1-6, Saban was asked whether the team had apparently forgotten about Brown and Pro Bowl receiver Chris Chambers, who had both disappeared faster than
Joey Lawrence’s career. The media constantly asked about the under- and misuse of both Brown and Chambers, making Saban turn red.
“I think the game circumstances dictate that,” the coach told them. “If we could script it and have two backs out there we would want Ronnie Brown to carry the ball between 15 and 20 times a game. But we haven’t always had two backs carrying the ball out there, so we haven’t run the ball enough.”
When everyone in the room scratched their heads and wondered what in crikey’s name Saban was talking about, he became incensed and called on his little-used Force skills to silence the plebeians.
“Ronnie Brown is of no interest to you,” he said soothingly as he waved his hand in the reporters’ direction.
“Ronnie Brown is of no interest to us,” answered the mindless media.
“Our running game you would like to know of not,” Saban said, warming to the Jedi speak.
“Your running game we would like to know of not.”
Qui-Gon Nick came in with a holier-than-thou attitude, speech filled with philosophical meanderings, a smartass demeanor and an open disdain for reporters. When your team wins six games in a row under his guidance, as a fan you look the other way and say, “Hey, that’s just part of the package. I don’t care if he sacrifices a ballboy before every game as long as we beat the goddam Patriots.” When your team loses six of seven games, you say, “Not only can this guy not coach his way out of a paper bag, but he is a dildo on top of that? No way. Toss him the hell out.”
Wannstedt and former NC State hoops coach Les Robinson were likable guys … the types of guys you wouldn’t mind grabbing a brew with … you just didn’t want them anywhere near your freaking team. But you can root for those guys because they’re salt-of-the-earth, aw-shucks, good people. You can’t root for someone like Nick Saban. He overcompensates for being a West Virginia hillbilly by trying to confuse the media with big words and rambling dissertations, but reporters have a way of cutting to the chase. And the end of this chase says 1-6 for a team that was picked to go to the Super Bowl by multiple media outlets.
As Obi-Wan Kenobi said in “Revenge of the Sith,” “Wait, how did this happen? We’re smarter than this!”
John Bunting is dumb and a poor coach. Qui-Gon Nick is smart and supposedly a good coach. But they are both 1-6 and one of them is out of a job. Will the other join him eventually?
“Your employment is of no interest to us,” say Dolphins fans, adding, “You Jedi jackass.”
*Much thanks to fellow disgusted Dolphins fan Cory for his excellent portrayal of Qui-Gon Nick.
