So, at least at the end of it, Kyle Whittingham is a Michigan man, not a Utah man. A Michigan man is he.
And that’s nobody’s fault but athletic director Mark Harlan’s and a handful of others, people in charge of running things at Utah who botched the handling of a legendary coach’s respectful retirement, the rushed timing of that retirement. Whittingham’s leaving is no skid mark on his legacy. It’s a stain on leadership, on the lack of it, at Utah.
Let’s lay it out all plain here: Whittingham shouldn’t be working anywhere but at the place where he coached his game, made his name and gained his fame. He’d had chances to leave before, and he resisted, even when he was seriously tempted. Now, he should have been allowed to make his exit and take a bow whenever and however he chose to do so. That should and could have been made certain. He earned that right, and anyone who argues that point is missing the point. Not just of legend and loyalty, but of accomplishment and ability, of capacity and capability.
When the right time came for Whittingham to step away, he should have been honored for what he did for the Utes, rather than when the wrong time came for him made to feel as though he was on the brink of no longer being wanted or welcome. And that’s unfortunately exactly what he felt. How do we know that? Because that’s what he said he wanted no part of.
“I did not want to be that guy who overstayed his welcome, with people saying, ‘Hey, when’s this guy gonna leave?’ That was not my intention — ever,” said Whittingham.
C’mon. He didn’t really mean that, right?
Yes, yes he did, and he was well aware that certain Utes wanted him gone. That wasn’t just an overly sensitive coach’s paranoia, it was real pushback.
Whittingham repeated himself on the matter multiple times.
And he underscored that one last time by accepting the head coaching job at Michigan on Friday. It’s remarkable that it may have taken the Wolverines’ recognition of and appreciation for Whittingham for those at Utah who sent him that doltish message to realize that they should have thought better.
And if they remain steadfast in their insistence that coach-in-waiting Morgan Scalley was and is the better option at this juncture, wait until Whittingham starts in on pilfering assistants and players from the Ute program, now and in the future. It’s pretty much guaranteed that with the resources available at Michigan, the folks at BYU — even his good friend Kalani Sitake — are frightened at the prospects of the holes Whittingham could leave in that program.
None of that is meant as a shot at Scalley. He’s a smart dude and a good defensive coordinator, and he’ll likely succeed as the Utes’ head coach. But will he surpass what Whittingham did … what Whittingham was still doing? Utah just finished the most recent regular season at 10-2, heading into their bowl game. Stack that atop his status as the winningest coach ever at Utah, and nudging him out the door makes no sense. If Scalley had no patience left, had threatened to bolt, so be it. Get somebody else to take over — in due time, in Whittingham’s time. Folks who force legends out usually come to regret it. The Utes were highly ranked this season, just outside playoff qualification. If that’s overstaying one’s welcome, then overstay all you want, man.
Whittingham is as sharp and savvy as he’s ever been. And Michigan is fully aware. He’s 66, not 86. He knows how to win, and what he knows is a snug fit for Big Ten football. He’s tough, tough-minded, but with the smooth, worn edges and wisdom that 21 years as top dawg at Utah taught him.
The Wolverines, coming out of the mess left by their disgraced former coach, need an uncompromising, strong-character leader who over the short term can guide them out of that mess. They don’t need longevity. They don’t need a lifer. They need a life raft. They need someone to rescue them, to buoy them up and bump them forward. Whittingham is exactly the kind of person and presence to do that. The old vet can then hand the proud program over to a younger coach to handle the long haul.
And Whittingham, when the job’s done in Ann Arbor, can then retire, can go spend time with his grandkids, having satisfied his craving to coach for a few more years, and walk away with … what, $30 million more than he had before? Sure, Whittingham already has more cash than he’ll ever spend, but those grandkids will likely appreciate what’s handed down to them — in the form of both money and opportunity — by way of his extra effort in Michigan.
“When you have coaching in your blood,” the Michigan man said, “it doesn’t just go away.”
Not today it doesn’t. Not today it didn’t.
Maybe one day, some day.
Either way, Utah is yesterday.