There are plenty of other places Georgia football coach Mark Richt would rather be on this gray rainy day. But three days after signing a highly rated recruiting class, Richt stood in a hotel ballroom in the middle of Long Island at a Nike Coach of the Year Clinic.
Looks like double speed outs with a middle read and a shallow cross controlling the middle
Coaches at schools who sign lucrative sponsorship deals with Nike are required to speak at two instructional clinics each year. From late January to early March, 71 major-college coaches will travel to 21 clinics across the country. They will speak to youth, high school and small-college coaches about “The Bulldog Passing Game” (Richt) or the “Broncos Winning Philosophy + Punt Returns” (Boise State’s Chris Petersen), all while spreading the gospel of a certain shoe and apparel company, of course.
“Normally a couple days after signing day, after the grind of a season that begins Aug. 1 goes through bowl season, then right into recruiting, usually you pass out for about a week, but somehow, now I’m in Long Island, N.Y., on the Saturday after signing day, and I’ll be honest with you: I’d rather be with my wife and kids, OK?” Richt says to the hundred or so coaches. “But when you get where you’re going, you get excited about talking ball. Excited about being here.”
. . . . Before 9 a.m. Saturday, Richt left Atlanta on a commercial flight and arrived in New York shortly before his presentation. Rohe says that because of stormy weather Richt was worried he might not make it back to Athens that night to interview coaches. So why did Richt fly into a city amid one of the worst winters in recent memory to speak to coaches from an area outside Georgia’s recruiting base?”I think it’s part of the contract,” he says. In fact, it is.
Last year, Richt’s total compensation was $2.9 million. According to the terms of his contract, $742,000 of that sum is from “compensation for his Equipment Endorsement Efforts.” He also receives $3,600 worth of shoes, apparel or equipment manufactured by Nike each year. In the contract, it states “Richt agrees to fully comply with and abide by the terms and conditions of the Nike contract.” . . .
The Coach of the Year clinics date to the pre-swoosh dark ages, when Nike was known simply as the Greek goddess of victory. Rohe, a former track coach and the director of football recruiting at Tennessee in the 1960s and early 1970s and later the longtime director of the Citrus Bowl, says the clinics were founded in the late 1950s by legendary coaches Bud Wilkinson (Oklahoma) and Duffy Daugherty (Michigan State). After former coaches Johnny Majors (Tennessee) and George Perles (Michigan State) took over, they asked Rohe to serve as director. Nike began sponsoring the clinics in 1992.
At the end of June, Rohe meets with the regional clinic directors, gives them the list of Nike-sponsored coaches available and asks them to list their top 15 choices.
“Of course all of them pick Petersen, Jim Tressel, Mack Brown and Bobby Stoops,” Rohe says. “I divide them up to give each one a headliner. I assign four or five coaches to each clinic since we lose a few coaches.”
…Rohe has mastered the delicate scheduling dance in his dealings with the prima donnas and those much more easygoing. “I recruited Brown out of high school when I was a head football recruiter at Tennessee,” Rohe says. “So I know the good guys and the bad guys and the guys who are difficult to work with.”
. . . “Some of these contracts are so big, you have to get some other value out of them, other than just the uniforms,” Rohe says. For example, Central Florida’s George O’Leary, who also was at the Long Island clinic, receives $455,814 for “Services, Speaking, Equipment and Apparel Endorsements,” the bulk of which is offset by the value of UCF’s contract with Nike.
Now millionaires, these coaches were once in the same shoes as those in the audience. The three-day clinics offer 24 hours of instruction, taught mostly by high school and small-college coaches. Of course, the headliners are the main attraction.
Before Richt begins his presentation, he tells the group he might be interrupted by a phone call from a recruit who is expected to sign. He talks about the play-action passing game and scribbles plays that are projected on a big screen. As he grabs a football to illustrate a point, his phone rings. It’s Mississippi Gulf Coast Community College nose tackle John Jenkins, who is from Meriden, Conn.
“I’m in Long Island, N.Y., at a Nike clinic talking about the QB-center exchange. But I’m taking your call,” Richt tells Jenkins.
….Richt heads to his laptop to show game film. The coaches lean closer. In a darkened room with film running, this particular species — the sweatsuit-wearing sapien — is in its natural habitat.He shows plays from previous seasons, interspersing X’s and O’s with lighthearted commentary. After one receiver repeatedly drops the ball, Richt jokes, “This guy would make a lot more money if he could catch. I’m not telling you who he is because his mom would get mad at me.”
Before his time ends, he says, “Don’t lose sight of the fact that we’re educators. That we serve as fathers to these men. Even if they have a father, they will listen to you more than their dad.” He talks about character and backing up words with action. “God bless you all. Have a good day,” Richt says as the crowd applauds. “And if you have a guy that wants to play for Georgia, give me a call.”
One, Richt is a good guy — that’s obvious to everyone who has dealt with him. Second, I look at this as some kind of positive externality — it might be a bit weird that these guys are contractually obligated to do these clinics and don’t necessarily do them out of the goodness of their heart or for an extra $100 bucks, but I always found the clinics helpful (as much for the smaller college and high school guys as the big name ones) and the manuals are a great resource too. Football coaching is a strange pyramid or tournament. That’s why I don’t mind guys trying to cash in when they can — most put in decades of a nomad lifestyle bouncing from school to school, and your continued livelihood is placed firmly in the hands of very capable nineteen year-olds, and if that isn’t job security I don’t know what is.
Before his time ends, he says, “Don’t lose sight of the fact that we’re educators. That we serve as fathers to these men. Even if they have a father, they will listen to you more than their dad.” He talks about character and backing up words with action. “God bless you all. Have a good day,” Richt says as the crowd applauds. “And if you have a guy that wants to play for Georgia, give me a call.”
