Somebody explain to me why the Packers are favored in Soldier Field on Sunday. Somebody explain to me why people think the Packers are going to the Super Bowl. Somebody explain to me why people think the Packers can win this game.
Green Bay is currently a 3.5-point favorite over Chicago. We’ve seen this before. Seven years ago, the visiting Colts entered the AFC Championship Game with all the experts expecting them to defeat the Patriots. The next season, the Colts were actually favored in the divisional round on the road at New England. The Patriots won both games easily. When those two teams played in the 2003 and 2004 regular seasons, we saw nothing to suggest that Indianapolis could beat the Patriots in a game that mattered, especially in Foxboro.
This year, we have seen the Packers and Bears play each other twice. Nothing in those two games told me the Packers can win this game on Sunday. Like the Colts before them, the Packers have tricked the public into thinking they were an offensive juggernaut that can’t be stopped. Well, Chicago did a pretty good job twice this season. In Week 17, the two played in Lambeau Field in a game the Packers needed. That game meant absolutely nothing to the Bears. Green Bay barely squeaked that one out.
It’s not just that, though. Watching the games, it is clear to me that the Packers have trouble with their red zone offense against the Bears. They may get an occasional touchdown, but field goals are their game against Chicago.
I just don’t think they have it in them to win a playoff game in Chicago this year. I don’t see it happening. Give me the home dog.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
It's Not the Bye, It's the Team
Every year, when one, two, or three of the road teams wins in the Divisional Round of the NFL playoffs, there is talk that earning a bye isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, that he bye does more to hurt a team’s momentum entering the playoffs than it does to give them an advantage. This is nonsense. Complete and utter nonsense. The bye is not the problem. In most cases, the home team that loses coming off a bye is a team that probably should not have earned a bye. The problem is the schedule. Let me show you:
Here is the relevant statistic regarding teams earning playoff byes: from 1990, when the 12-team playoff format was introduced, to 2001, home teams (bye teams) in the divisional round were 39-9. Since 2002, such teams are only 22-14.
When the Houston Texans entered the league in 2002, the NFL altered its scheduling formula. Prior to 2002, when there were three divisions in each conference, a team’s place in a season’s final standings affected four of the next season’s games. Since 2002, one season’s finish only affects two of the following season’s games. A two game difference may seem small, but it is actually a rather drastic change to go from having a team’s finish affect 25% of the schedule to only affecting 12.5% of it.
The current setup of four divisions in each conference means that the majority of teams play fewer division games each season than they did under the old format. During the 28-team era (1976-1994, the AFC Central and NFC West each had only four teams. Each team in those divisions played only six division games each season. The other 20 teams in the NFL played 8 division games each year. When Carolina and Jacksonville joined the league in 1995, each of the NFL’s six divisions had five teams. From 1995-2001, every team in the league played 8 division games a year. That’s half of the schedule.
When you add the division games to the games affected by the standings, that is 75% of a teams’s schedule. The remaining four games were inter-conference games. Then, as now, each NFC division played four games against an AFC division.
To be more specific about it, every single one of a team’s intra-conference nondivision games were determined by the standings. A first place team in the NFC East, for instance, would play 8 division games, 4 games against AFC team, and a single game against each of the first and second place teams from the NFC West and NFC Central. A fourth place team in the AFC West would play its 8 intra-division games, 4 inter-conference games, and single games against the third and fourth place teams from the AFC East and AFC Central. In addition, the fifth place teams would play a true last place schedule.
The current format is drastically different. The biggest difference from the old format is that each team plays two entire divisions: one from its own conference and one from the other conference. With four teams in each division, there are only six division games on each team’s schedule. There are still the four inter-conference games. After adding the four intra-conference games against an entire division, that leaves only two remaining games on the schedule. These two games are determined by the standings. Each team plays each of the teams in its own conference that finished with a like standing in the other divisions. In 2011, for example, the third place team from the NFC East, the Dallas Cowboys, will play the entire NFC West as well as the Lions and Buccaneers, the third place teams from the NFC North and the NFC South, respectively.
It is my contention that this change in scheduling format leads to inflated records, deflated records, and teams earning byes when they aren’t quite as good as teams that play in the Wild Card round. When one division is unusually strong or unusually weak, the divisions they play face schedules that are overly easy or difficult. Teams that finish in first place no longer face a true, daunting first place schedule; teams that finish in the basement don’t face an easier path the following year. Schedule difficulty now is all dependent upon the cycle of which divisions a team plays in a given year.
In 2011, Tampa Bay will be a better team than they were in 2010, but they may not post as good a record. At 10-6, the Bucs were third in the NFC South this year. Under the old format, they would play the third and fourth place teams from the NFC’s other divisions. Instead, they will play the NFC North as well as the Cowboys and 49ers, the third place teams from the NFC East and NFC West, respectively. By playing the entire NFC North, the Bucs will play Green Bay and Chicago instead of Washington and Minnesota.
At the same time, the NFC East will play the NFC West, so unless the league’s weakest division improves drastically over the offseason, the Eagles and Giants, who placed first and second in the NFC East this year, will have the advantage of playing the Cardinals and 49ers. The previous format would have pitted the Eagles against the Packers and Saints instead; the Giants would have played the Bears and Falcons instead.
Occasionally, one division is fortunate enough to play the both conferences’ weakest division. The most egregious example of this was 2008, a year the AFC East teams faced the AFC West and NFC West. Those were, essentially, eight “gimme” games for the Patriots, Jets, and Dolphins (the Bills were too awful to beat anybody). A lot of people were up in arms that season because the 11-5 Patriots missed the playoffs while the 8-8Chargers, 9-7 Cardinals, and 9-6-1 Eagles made it. There was no injustice that year. The Patriots finished second in the AFC East to Miami, who also finished 11-5. Both the Patriots and Dolphins won seven of their eight games against the AFC West and NFC West. Both teams went 4-4 against the remainder of their schedules. Both teams swept the season series with Buffalo. Against the AFC West, NFC West, and Buffalo Bills, both Miami and New England went 9-1. Both finished 2-4 against everyone else. New England, who won the division in 2007, played their intra-conference nondivision games against Pittsburgh and Indianapolis. They lost both games. Miami finished last in 2007 and played Baltimore and Houston. They lost both of those games. As you can see, 11-5 was a highly inflated record for both Miami and New England.
My point is that the new scheduling formula makes it so that you can no longer look at a team’s record as a fair indicator of how good that team is. So it follows that a team earning a first round playoff bye should no longer be an indicator of that team’s superiority. Until the format is changed, those days are over.
Here is the relevant statistic regarding teams earning playoff byes: from 1990, when the 12-team playoff format was introduced, to 2001, home teams (bye teams) in the divisional round were 39-9. Since 2002, such teams are only 22-14.
When the Houston Texans entered the league in 2002, the NFL altered its scheduling formula. Prior to 2002, when there were three divisions in each conference, a team’s place in a season’s final standings affected four of the next season’s games. Since 2002, one season’s finish only affects two of the following season’s games. A two game difference may seem small, but it is actually a rather drastic change to go from having a team’s finish affect 25% of the schedule to only affecting 12.5% of it.
The current setup of four divisions in each conference means that the majority of teams play fewer division games each season than they did under the old format. During the 28-team era (1976-1994, the AFC Central and NFC West each had only four teams. Each team in those divisions played only six division games each season. The other 20 teams in the NFL played 8 division games each year. When Carolina and Jacksonville joined the league in 1995, each of the NFL’s six divisions had five teams. From 1995-2001, every team in the league played 8 division games a year. That’s half of the schedule.
When you add the division games to the games affected by the standings, that is 75% of a teams’s schedule. The remaining four games were inter-conference games. Then, as now, each NFC division played four games against an AFC division.
To be more specific about it, every single one of a team’s intra-conference nondivision games were determined by the standings. A first place team in the NFC East, for instance, would play 8 division games, 4 games against AFC team, and a single game against each of the first and second place teams from the NFC West and NFC Central. A fourth place team in the AFC West would play its 8 intra-division games, 4 inter-conference games, and single games against the third and fourth place teams from the AFC East and AFC Central. In addition, the fifth place teams would play a true last place schedule.
The current format is drastically different. The biggest difference from the old format is that each team plays two entire divisions: one from its own conference and one from the other conference. With four teams in each division, there are only six division games on each team’s schedule. There are still the four inter-conference games. After adding the four intra-conference games against an entire division, that leaves only two remaining games on the schedule. These two games are determined by the standings. Each team plays each of the teams in its own conference that finished with a like standing in the other divisions. In 2011, for example, the third place team from the NFC East, the Dallas Cowboys, will play the entire NFC West as well as the Lions and Buccaneers, the third place teams from the NFC North and the NFC South, respectively.
It is my contention that this change in scheduling format leads to inflated records, deflated records, and teams earning byes when they aren’t quite as good as teams that play in the Wild Card round. When one division is unusually strong or unusually weak, the divisions they play face schedules that are overly easy or difficult. Teams that finish in first place no longer face a true, daunting first place schedule; teams that finish in the basement don’t face an easier path the following year. Schedule difficulty now is all dependent upon the cycle of which divisions a team plays in a given year.
In 2011, Tampa Bay will be a better team than they were in 2010, but they may not post as good a record. At 10-6, the Bucs were third in the NFC South this year. Under the old format, they would play the third and fourth place teams from the NFC’s other divisions. Instead, they will play the NFC North as well as the Cowboys and 49ers, the third place teams from the NFC East and NFC West, respectively. By playing the entire NFC North, the Bucs will play Green Bay and Chicago instead of Washington and Minnesota.
At the same time, the NFC East will play the NFC West, so unless the league’s weakest division improves drastically over the offseason, the Eagles and Giants, who placed first and second in the NFC East this year, will have the advantage of playing the Cardinals and 49ers. The previous format would have pitted the Eagles against the Packers and Saints instead; the Giants would have played the Bears and Falcons instead.
Occasionally, one division is fortunate enough to play the both conferences’ weakest division. The most egregious example of this was 2008, a year the AFC East teams faced the AFC West and NFC West. Those were, essentially, eight “gimme” games for the Patriots, Jets, and Dolphins (the Bills were too awful to beat anybody). A lot of people were up in arms that season because the 11-5 Patriots missed the playoffs while the 8-8Chargers, 9-7 Cardinals, and 9-6-1 Eagles made it. There was no injustice that year. The Patriots finished second in the AFC East to Miami, who also finished 11-5. Both the Patriots and Dolphins won seven of their eight games against the AFC West and NFC West. Both teams went 4-4 against the remainder of their schedules. Both teams swept the season series with Buffalo. Against the AFC West, NFC West, and Buffalo Bills, both Miami and New England went 9-1. Both finished 2-4 against everyone else. New England, who won the division in 2007, played their intra-conference nondivision games against Pittsburgh and Indianapolis. They lost both games. Miami finished last in 2007 and played Baltimore and Houston. They lost both of those games. As you can see, 11-5 was a highly inflated record for both Miami and New England.
My point is that the new scheduling formula makes it so that you can no longer look at a team’s record as a fair indicator of how good that team is. So it follows that a team earning a first round playoff bye should no longer be an indicator of that team’s superiority. Until the format is changed, those days are over.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
No Stripping
Since the end of Monday night’s BCS National Championship game, I have heard nonstop chatter about Cam Newton, Auburn University, and whether or not the Tigers’ championship will be stripped from them one day. This talk annoys me. It is nothing but hot air. It should be nothing more than sports talk radio fodder, but I’ve seen this discussion in the mainstream media as well. ESPN Radio’s Mike Golic and Mike Greenburg spent my entire morning commute to work discussing it yesterday. Fox Sports’ Thayer Evans wrote about it. Others have, too. And it frustrates me. Any discussion of the topic is an irresponsible act. The men and women who cover college football should know better. Apparently, a large number of them do not.
The first thing that must be recognized is that the NCAA cannot strip Auburn of its national championship. The NCAA can’t take away something that does not actually exist. The NCAA neither determines nor declares a national champion at the highest level of college football. The level formerly known as Division I-AA is now called Division I—Football Championship Subdivision because the NCAA determines and recognizes a champion at the end of the season. The highest level of college football, Division I—Football Bowl Subdivision (formerly known as Division I-A) has no official champion. That is why you hear the terms such as mythical national champion, consensus national champion, claimed national championships, disputed national championship, and split national championship.
This is not new. The NCAA has never determined a champion for Division I-A. National champions are determined solely by outside organizations. The NCAA is neither affiliated with nor has any control over any of these organizations. Not a one. There are a million and one polls out there, but the ones that are most widely known and recognized as “true” national championship polls are the Associated Press and the ESPN/USA Today Coaches’. These are the organizations that determine who people consider the national champion. But, as I said before, these polls are not run by the NCAA.
Furthermore, neither of these organizations awards a national championship. Instead, they submit ballots and release a poll following the bowl season. The coaches do agree to vote the winner of the BCS National Championship Game as the #1 team in their final poll. The top ranked team in the final coaches’ poll is awarded the American Football Coaches Association trophy. Again, however, this trophy is not awarded by the NCAA. The NCAA has no dominion over the trophy, no say in who can or cannot receive the trophy. As the AP does not award a championship, there is no championship for anyone, let alone the NCAA, to take away. Shoot, before 1968, the AP did not even wait until bowl season to relase its final poll. The Division I—FBS national championship is mythical. It is a fiction that is given life by people.
I know what you’re thinking. What about the BCS? The Bowl Championship Series is another entity that exists outside of the NCAA. The BCS isn’t even an actual organization. The BCS is merely a coalition of the Rose Bowl, Orange Bowl, Sugar Bowl, and Fiesta Bowl. These four bowls are not NCAA-sanctioned events (actually, no bowls are sanctioned by the NCAA). When it comes to bowls, the NCAA’s involvement is limited to two things: it determines which teams are eligible to play in bowls and it determines which bowls are can host bowl eligible teams. That’s it.
Each of these four bowls that make up the BCS are run by private organizations. The BCS itself is a consortium of private organizations. The NCAA is not one of those organizations. But the BCS and the NCAA have something in common. Despite holding an event named the BCS National Championship Game, the BCS does not award a national championship either. It’s just a game.
Now you see that all the talk about stripping Auburn of its national championship is just talk. Auburn is the consensus national champion, but they have not won a national championship. There is nothing for the NCAA, or anyone else, to strip.
The first thing that must be recognized is that the NCAA cannot strip Auburn of its national championship. The NCAA can’t take away something that does not actually exist. The NCAA neither determines nor declares a national champion at the highest level of college football. The level formerly known as Division I-AA is now called Division I—Football Championship Subdivision because the NCAA determines and recognizes a champion at the end of the season. The highest level of college football, Division I—Football Bowl Subdivision (formerly known as Division I-A) has no official champion. That is why you hear the terms such as mythical national champion, consensus national champion, claimed national championships, disputed national championship, and split national championship.
This is not new. The NCAA has never determined a champion for Division I-A. National champions are determined solely by outside organizations. The NCAA is neither affiliated with nor has any control over any of these organizations. Not a one. There are a million and one polls out there, but the ones that are most widely known and recognized as “true” national championship polls are the Associated Press and the ESPN/USA Today Coaches’. These are the organizations that determine who people consider the national champion. But, as I said before, these polls are not run by the NCAA.
Furthermore, neither of these organizations awards a national championship. Instead, they submit ballots and release a poll following the bowl season. The coaches do agree to vote the winner of the BCS National Championship Game as the #1 team in their final poll. The top ranked team in the final coaches’ poll is awarded the American Football Coaches Association trophy. Again, however, this trophy is not awarded by the NCAA. The NCAA has no dominion over the trophy, no say in who can or cannot receive the trophy. As the AP does not award a championship, there is no championship for anyone, let alone the NCAA, to take away. Shoot, before 1968, the AP did not even wait until bowl season to relase its final poll. The Division I—FBS national championship is mythical. It is a fiction that is given life by people.
I know what you’re thinking. What about the BCS? The Bowl Championship Series is another entity that exists outside of the NCAA. The BCS isn’t even an actual organization. The BCS is merely a coalition of the Rose Bowl, Orange Bowl, Sugar Bowl, and Fiesta Bowl. These four bowls are not NCAA-sanctioned events (actually, no bowls are sanctioned by the NCAA). When it comes to bowls, the NCAA’s involvement is limited to two things: it determines which teams are eligible to play in bowls and it determines which bowls are can host bowl eligible teams. That’s it.
Each of these four bowls that make up the BCS are run by private organizations. The BCS itself is a consortium of private organizations. The NCAA is not one of those organizations. But the BCS and the NCAA have something in common. Despite holding an event named the BCS National Championship Game, the BCS does not award a national championship either. It’s just a game.
Now you see that all the talk about stripping Auburn of its national championship is just talk. Auburn is the consensus national champion, but they have not won a national championship. There is nothing for the NCAA, or anyone else, to strip.
Monday, January 10, 2011
Peyton's Problem
I don’t remember which two teams were playing, but I do remember something Bob Davie said about them during ESPN’s broadcast of the game. Davie said, “Both of these teams are so well prepared for this game that the offenses are successful because they are doing things they haven’t done all year.” At the time I thought it was the second stupidest thing I would ever hear a sportscaster say—I hope nothing ever surpasses George Foreman telling an HBO audience that Floyd Mayweather, Jr. should celebrate his grandmother passing out in the ring after a fight. When thinking about Peyton Manning’s postseason career, though, I can apply Davie’s stupid statement.
Peyton Manning is a studier. He knows your tendencies. He knows your strengths, your weaknesses, your likes, your dislikes. He has seen every play you have run in every situation. If you have ever done it, Peyton Manning has seen you do it. And he prepares accordingly. In addition to all of his physical talent, that study time is a huge reason for all the success Manning has had in the game of football.
Yet, since he entered the NFL, Peyton Manning’s teams are only 9-10 in the postseason. And for all the talk about how the Colts have rarely, if ever, had a good defense during the Manning era, Peyton’s Colts teams only average 22.37 points per postseason game (that average drops to 19.71 if you take out the two games against the Jake Plummer era Broncos). That is not championship quality offense.
People also talk about the inability of dome teams to perform outdoors in cold weather. But Manning’s Colts are only 6-4 at home in playoff games. Again removing those two games against the Broncos, the record drops to 4-4 with a 23.13 points per game average. Furthermore, with Manning at quarterback, the Colts have lost their first playoff game 7 times in 11 postseasons. 4 of those 7 losses were in Indianapolis. And only once in 4 tries have Manning’s Colts won a playoff game coming off a bye.
In only one of Manning’s four home playoff losses has the Colt defense allowed more than 21 points. Only 4 times in the 10 overall postseason losses has the other team topped 21 points during regulation. So while the defense hasn’t been great, it has not allowed a lot of points. No, when the Colts lose in the postseason, it is almost always because the offense comes up short.
How and why does this happen? To get the answer, I think you have to go back to his days at Tennessee.
During Manning’s years at Tennessee, the Volunteers and Florida Gators were the only contenders in the SEC. That allowed Bob Stoops, the Florida defensive coordinator during Manning’s junior and senior seasons, to prepare special defenses only to be used against the Vols. Going back to what I said at the beginning, Peyton Manning lined up to face a Florida Gators defense that did things he had never seen before. I’ll never forget the 1996 game. It was in Knoxville, and a lot of us thought it would finally be the year Tennessee beat Spurrier’s Florida team. But Peyton threw four interceptions in the first half, and it was all over. In 1997, a not-quite championship level Florida team gave Tennessee their only regular season loss. Again, Peyton threw multiple picks.
This is what happens in the NFL playoffs. Defensive coordinators must, must, must come up with new things for playoff games against the Colts. All the studying in the world doesn’t help Peyton Manning play against new defenses. Teams cannot devote the necessary time for newness during the regular season. In the postseason, when it’s do or die, they do it. This is why the Colts always struggle scoring postseason points.
Peyton Manning does not adjust quickly to new defenses. He needs time to study, think, and plot. There have plenty of jokes over the years about Manning being a robot, but he is computer like in a way. He does not improvise. He can only process the information that is given to him. When you present him with something he’s never processed before, he cannot compute.
Peyton Manning is the kid who shows up to the test, sees a problem he can’t figure out, and says, “This wasn’t in the text.”
Peyton Manning is a studier. He knows your tendencies. He knows your strengths, your weaknesses, your likes, your dislikes. He has seen every play you have run in every situation. If you have ever done it, Peyton Manning has seen you do it. And he prepares accordingly. In addition to all of his physical talent, that study time is a huge reason for all the success Manning has had in the game of football.
Yet, since he entered the NFL, Peyton Manning’s teams are only 9-10 in the postseason. And for all the talk about how the Colts have rarely, if ever, had a good defense during the Manning era, Peyton’s Colts teams only average 22.37 points per postseason game (that average drops to 19.71 if you take out the two games against the Jake Plummer era Broncos). That is not championship quality offense.
People also talk about the inability of dome teams to perform outdoors in cold weather. But Manning’s Colts are only 6-4 at home in playoff games. Again removing those two games against the Broncos, the record drops to 4-4 with a 23.13 points per game average. Furthermore, with Manning at quarterback, the Colts have lost their first playoff game 7 times in 11 postseasons. 4 of those 7 losses were in Indianapolis. And only once in 4 tries have Manning’s Colts won a playoff game coming off a bye.
In only one of Manning’s four home playoff losses has the Colt defense allowed more than 21 points. Only 4 times in the 10 overall postseason losses has the other team topped 21 points during regulation. So while the defense hasn’t been great, it has not allowed a lot of points. No, when the Colts lose in the postseason, it is almost always because the offense comes up short.
How and why does this happen? To get the answer, I think you have to go back to his days at Tennessee.
During Manning’s years at Tennessee, the Volunteers and Florida Gators were the only contenders in the SEC. That allowed Bob Stoops, the Florida defensive coordinator during Manning’s junior and senior seasons, to prepare special defenses only to be used against the Vols. Going back to what I said at the beginning, Peyton Manning lined up to face a Florida Gators defense that did things he had never seen before. I’ll never forget the 1996 game. It was in Knoxville, and a lot of us thought it would finally be the year Tennessee beat Spurrier’s Florida team. But Peyton threw four interceptions in the first half, and it was all over. In 1997, a not-quite championship level Florida team gave Tennessee their only regular season loss. Again, Peyton threw multiple picks.
This is what happens in the NFL playoffs. Defensive coordinators must, must, must come up with new things for playoff games against the Colts. All the studying in the world doesn’t help Peyton Manning play against new defenses. Teams cannot devote the necessary time for newness during the regular season. In the postseason, when it’s do or die, they do it. This is why the Colts always struggle scoring postseason points.
Peyton Manning does not adjust quickly to new defenses. He needs time to study, think, and plot. There have plenty of jokes over the years about Manning being a robot, but he is computer like in a way. He does not improvise. He can only process the information that is given to him. When you present him with something he’s never processed before, he cannot compute.
Peyton Manning is the kid who shows up to the test, sees a problem he can’t figure out, and says, “This wasn’t in the text.”
Friday, January 7, 2011
Is Jim Harbaugh the Next Rick Pitino
Jim Harbaugh has apparently agreed to become the next coach of the San Francisco 49ers. I say “apparently” because things can change. But if he does take the 49ers job, do his personality and job progression not remind you of Rick Pitino?
Hear me out. This thought came to me as I failed to fall asleep last night. Pitino’s first head coaching job was at Boston University. Pitino took the Terriers from a losing record to two postseason appearances. He then went to Providence, a non-power school in a power conference, and led the Friars to the Final Four. Coming off that final Four appearance, Pitino left Providence for the New York Knicks, a team that saw him as a franchise savior after fifteen years of no relevance. Harbaugh’s path from conference championships at the University of San Diego to the Orange Bowl with Stanford to attempting to San Francisco would follow the exact same path—except, of course, that Pitino traveled south from New England to New York while Harbaugh traveled north along the Pacific Coast.
I could say that about many pairs of coaches, though. What makes Pitino and Harbaugh so similar to me are their personalities, specifically their charisma and the ways they control the media. Both Pitino and Harbaugh earned their first professional head coaching positions by falling just short of national championships at schools that are only good once a generation. Like Pitino before him, Jim Harbaugh left his small school at the right time.
I do not think the 49ers are currently as bad as the Knicks were when Pitino took over in 1987. The Knicks had a great defensive presence in Patrick Ewing and the new coach used his very first NBA draft pick to select floor leader in Mark Jackson. Harbaugh takes over a 49er team that has some pieces in place. Patrick Willis is a stud, and the rest of the defense is solid. With the seventh pick in the first round, the 49ers can, if they so choose, draft Ryan Mallett or Cam Newton to be their quarterback of the future.
While these aren’t necessarily championship pieces, I think Harbaugh has enough talent in San Francisco to not embarrass himself. I think he will eventually go back to coaching at the collegiate level. Michigan or some other glamour program will introduce Jim Harbaugh as its head coach sometime between 2013 and 2015. And, like Rick Pitino, achieve his greatest success there.
Hear me out. This thought came to me as I failed to fall asleep last night. Pitino’s first head coaching job was at Boston University. Pitino took the Terriers from a losing record to two postseason appearances. He then went to Providence, a non-power school in a power conference, and led the Friars to the Final Four. Coming off that final Four appearance, Pitino left Providence for the New York Knicks, a team that saw him as a franchise savior after fifteen years of no relevance. Harbaugh’s path from conference championships at the University of San Diego to the Orange Bowl with Stanford to attempting to San Francisco would follow the exact same path—except, of course, that Pitino traveled south from New England to New York while Harbaugh traveled north along the Pacific Coast.
I could say that about many pairs of coaches, though. What makes Pitino and Harbaugh so similar to me are their personalities, specifically their charisma and the ways they control the media. Both Pitino and Harbaugh earned their first professional head coaching positions by falling just short of national championships at schools that are only good once a generation. Like Pitino before him, Jim Harbaugh left his small school at the right time.
I do not think the 49ers are currently as bad as the Knicks were when Pitino took over in 1987. The Knicks had a great defensive presence in Patrick Ewing and the new coach used his very first NBA draft pick to select floor leader in Mark Jackson. Harbaugh takes over a 49er team that has some pieces in place. Patrick Willis is a stud, and the rest of the defense is solid. With the seventh pick in the first round, the 49ers can, if they so choose, draft Ryan Mallett or Cam Newton to be their quarterback of the future.
While these aren’t necessarily championship pieces, I think Harbaugh has enough talent in San Francisco to not embarrass himself. I think he will eventually go back to coaching at the collegiate level. Michigan or some other glamour program will introduce Jim Harbaugh as its head coach sometime between 2013 and 2015. And, like Rick Pitino, achieve his greatest success there.
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