As old school closes, coaches must adapt to survive

Society has changed. Have coaches?

The past couple of months have taught us that the lines have been redrawn between coach and player, between teaching and abuse.

Mike Leach's stubborn ways and treatment of Adam James cost him his job at Texas Tech. (US Presswire)

Three coaches have lost their jobs since early December -- one case seemingly worse than the next. Allegations of stunningly different types of mistreatment followed former Kansas coach Mark Mangino back eight years. Jim Leavitt was fired at South Florida not has much for the allegations of hitting and choking a player but attempting to impede the school's investigation. Mike Leach's stubbornness had as much to do with his firing at Texas Tech as the still-murky details of his treatment of receiver Adam James.

If the so-called "electrical shed" was so bad, why would a simple apology have cleared up the whole matter?

"I think we're talking old school-new school. Which is best?" TCU Gary Patterson said.

It's clear that old schoolers such as Bear Bryant, Frank Kush and Woody Hayes couldn't coach today. A player suffered heat stroke during Bryant's infamous Junction Boys training camp in the 1950s. Kush was brought down by a player's lawsuit alleging physical harassment. Hayes was done after he punched a Clemson linebacker in a bowl game.

Some of those old schoolers defended their brutal tactics with code words like "discipline" and "teaching." New schoolers likely know better. Every coach is wondering where they fit with lawyers, helicopter parents and administrators waiting to pounce.

"Really what we've become is CEOs," said Patterson, entering his 13th season with the Horned Frogs. "If a coach answered honestly, he'd probably take a little less [money] for a little more personal freedom. ...

"We're in a society where everybody gets a trophy. It's OK to be seventh place as much as it's OK to be first place. It's the way the world is right now. We want to know why kids don't compete. In life, there are going to be winners and there are going to be losers."

Patterson adds, "you still have to grow kids up," within a football program.

"What is the range of what you have to do to be able to do that?" he added. "I don't know what it is."

In the three above cases, the accused coaches might have made it through the individual turmoil a few years ago. Mangino's situation didn't become public until a senior linebacker complained about being poked in the chest during a walk-through. Leach could have seemingly made everything go away with that simple apology. Leavitt's accuser retracted his original accusation.

It's clear, though, something somewhere has changed as national signing day nears. Over the past few weeks CBSSports.com has talked to college coaches, administrators and parents about what has changed, if anything, in the player-coach relationship in college football.

What we found was a heightened sense of caution by coaches and empowerment by parents and athletes. Alan Goldberg is an Amherst, Mass.-based sports psychologist who has been a consultant for University of Connecticut athletics.

"We have a very narrow way of measuring success," Goldberg said. "You don't see coaches getting the coach of the year award because they're teaching these kids how to be good citizens and life lessons. We could say that's the old school, but it doesn't cut it nowadays. It doesn't mean players nowadays are softer. People are more aware."

Jim Komosa considers himself more than aware. He has officiated high school football in Missouri and Kansas for 12 years. Two of his sons have played high school football. As a parent, he says, "It does pop into your head now and then. Has he [coach] ever hit anybody?" As an official, Komosa witnessed a coach punch a player on the sidelines (The coach was fired.) He says most abuse that he sees along the sidelines today is verbal.

"Railing on somebody over and over and over," Komosa said. "I think it's always gone on. You've got a small 1 percent of the coaches who are taking it over the top, making it bad for everybody else. Just like the political correctness movement, everybody's oversensitive about everything."

Former Kansas coach Mark Mangino has faced mistreatment accusations during his coaching career. (US Presswire)

Mike Scanlan is also part of that high school culture, although by the looks of him, it might be 1970s high school culture. The 50-something coach of Cretin-Derham Hall in St. Paul, Minn., sports a beard and wears his hair to his shoulders. He is also the coach of a state champion that includes the nation's No. 1 prospect going into signing day.

Cretin-Derham Hall has produced the likes of Hall of Famer Paul Molitor, Heisman-winner Chris Weinke and All-Star catcher Joe Mauer. The next great one figures to be offensive lineman Seantrel Henderson.

Scanlan called the latest college reports, "a little too old school to me. I don't know if you have to be demeaning or physically or verbally abusive."

On signing day, Texas Tech, Kansas and South Florida may pay for the upheaval caused by the coaching changes. Tech is holding steady with a top 35 class, same as last season. Kansas and South Florida have dropped precipitously to the 60s.

But that's a short-term hit given the potential long-term problems had those coaches stayed.

"There's a lot of coaches that don't realize what they're working with is living, breathing, feeling organisms," Goldberg said. "Some of these coaches should be working with inanimate objects. What motivates players is when you treat them with respect and you're honest. The stuff that's going on, people think it's coaching, it's really abuse."

New Kentucky coach Joker Phillips is one of those whose career has spanned two eras. Phillips played for Fran Curci and Jerry Claiborne at Kentucky in the early 1980s. After a combined 16 years as a Kentucky assistant, he has taken over for the retired Rich Brooks.

"The business has changed and you have to change with the business," he said. "Back in my day, it was a given that coaches could put hands on players. In today's world, you can't put hands on players. I tell my coaches, 'You put your hands on players, players are prone to put their hands on you. You're on your own.'" Bob Knight's career seemed to not only straddle the line between the old and new schools but define the two eras. After decades of what seemed like enabling from Indiana, president Myles Brand finally stood up to the coach former Illinois coach Lou Henson once called "a classic bully."

Knight was fired 10 years ago. That ended, for the moment, a run of boorish behavior that, combined with his winning percentage, made him the most powerful person at Indiana. Given another chance at Texas Tech, Knight did not reboot. Some of his same conduct resurfaced. Ten years later, though, there is at least some small change.

Knight is not coaching, and his clones aren't easily tolerated.

"Times are changing," said an attorney familiar with the litigation process over player mistreatment. The attorney did not want to be identified but said he had played college football.

"We're [players] getting smarter and they [coaches] aren't."

It's clear coaches are on alert at every level, if only because of the legal ramifications. Sickle cell trait became the leading cause of death among college players in the just-completed decade. As part of a settlement with the family of a deceased Rice University player, the NCAA agreed to formally recommend testing for the trait. That simple recommendation had not been part of the NCAA medical safeguards handbook since the first case of death by sickle cell was identified more than 35 years ago.

Central Florida is currently contesting a wrongful death lawsuit from the parents of former player Ereck Plancher, who died because of sickle cell trait in March 2008. Coaches may have been nothing more than ignorant to the effects of the trait in the past. But ignorance does not forgive them of accusations, in some of these cases, of not providing enough water or rest breaks.

"We have to remember who we [coaches] are," said Alabama coach Nick Saban, who is famous, in part, for making former Miami Dolphin Manny Wright cry during one practice.

"I don't think you ever have to abuse anybody. Discipline is not punishment to me. Discipline is changing someone's behavior so that they will do something the way you would feel it would be more beneficial with them."

The gruff, stern Saban used this example: When his daughter Kristin acts up, he takes her car keys, laptop, telephone and "you can get the dishes washed, the room cleaned up, the car washed, anything you want."

"I've never done those types of [abusive] things to players because the one thing that every player wants to do is play," Saban added. "If you don't do those things, we're not going to play you."

Seems simple enough. But the abusive coaches have had help at times -- parents who thought that was the way it was supposed to be, players who were afraid to lose scholarships and assistants afraid to lose jobs.

"Players are more aware," said Vince Dooley, Georgia's legendary former coach. "I think I've seen coaches come up and get in their face and hit them on the shoulder. When you get beyond that ..."

Jon Alt has seen the issue from every level. The former Iowa great became an All-Pro offensive lineman for the Kansas City Chiefs. His son Mark is the Cretin-Derham quarterback deciding between college football, college hockey and pro hockey (if he is drafted in the first round by the NHL in June).

"If you got a concussion there wasn't much attention paid to it. ...," Alt said of his NFL days. "I had bleeding on the brain and didn't miss a play. When you run into a coach or coaches who remember those days, some of it [was] expected."

Thankfully, the NFL and NCAA have paid more attention recently to player safety, especially concussions (NFL) and catastrophic injuries (NCAA).

It's amazing that there isn't more scrutiny, more parents and players speaking out. Maybe the past two months are the beginning of that speaking out.

Notre Dame's Brian Kelly discovered what he described as "a sense of entitlement" among his new players when he arrived from Cincinnati. That will be rectified, he said, but not by crossing a line. To that end, next month Kelly plans to invite media to South Bend to watch his "Camp Kelly" offseason conditioning drills.

Before that, the coach at the country's most famous university sounds a lot like a sports psychologist in Amherst.

"I don't think it's a new line," Kelly said. "I think it's a line that always been there. ... It's an emotional game. There's going to be spirited conversation. I'm part of that. But when you move to tactics that we all would look at as questionable, maybe you shouldn't have those tactics."