Gary Patterson built TCU football through methods now unwelcome in sports | Opinion

Gary Patterson’s exit was not just the finale of an era for TCU, but another shovel of dirt on an eon of coaching.

In the final months of his regime, administrators pleaded with him that the methods of barking, and sometimes belittling players (and staffers), could be disastrous in the age of the transfer portal.

GP is no dummy, and he would often tell staffers that he was a theater major at Kansas State. The idea was that no one could be too sure if his sideline theatrics was a case of Gary Patterson lobbying for an Academy Award, or Gary Patterson lobbying for a ticket to an asylum.

Confusion was the goal.

Sometimes he was acting. Sometimes he was a bit crazy.

Part of his charm was that unmistakable voice after a game, or practice, that sounded like it had been trampled by a herd of elephants.

What he was not was Bob Knight or Woody Hayes, two infamous cranky college coaches whose bullying and narcissistic behavior was enabled by fawning fan bases and fearful administrators.

Patterson had a strain of that style of militaristic, do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do coaching in him. In 2021, that style is on the endangered list.

Breaking a kid down and building them back up, a la Marines style boot camp, doesn’t work. Because sports is not the Marines, and two-a-days are not a trip to Parris Island.

For the vast majority of players who played for Patterson in his 20-plus years at TCU, they “got it,” and they are forever grateful.

That’s why the end of this era is difficult to accept.

“I don’t know if I can put into words what he meant to me. Outside of my actual father, I look at him as my second father,” said former TCU linebacker Jason Phillips. He played at TCU from 2005 to 2008, and after a three-year career in the NFL he coached under Patterson briefly.

“He raised the kid coming out of high school growing into a man,” Phillips said. “When I came out of the NFL, he took me under his wing and let me be a graduate assistant and taught me things about football I didn’t know. When I left I broke down in tears because it had become such a part of me.”

Even among those who remain loyal defenders of Patterson, they are the first to acknowledge he is not for everybody — including themselves at times.

They all, however, recognized the method.

As much as they may have despised Patterson in certain moments, they knew he barked because, ultimately, he did care.

“Show me another who made this large impact on lives. I can’t think of another person who touched so many lives,” said former TCU defensive lineman J.W. Wilson. “The job he had was a very tough one, and most people will never understand how hard.

“Think about us as parents and the worries that come along with our kids at that age,” Wilson added. “The tragedies, the middle of the night phone calls, the heartbreaking losses, the life-changing wins, the marriages, the birth of kids, the constant pressure to keep the grades up, the disgruntled peers on social media, the knee-jerk fans on social media. He lived it here 24 hours a day, seven days a week for 21 years. He wasn’t a perfect person, but he was ours and he gave us his heart and soul.

“Sadly, college football is measured in wins and money. Gary is much more to us lettermen than just TCU’s winningest coach ever. If you knew him, you understood.”

For most, not all, of the players and staffers, they understood it. But just because they understood it didn’t mean it was easy.

And unlike a Bob Knight, or men like him, Patterson had a soft streak for players. The task for the player was to navigate the obstacles to reach the busy head coach and get him to listen to their request.

He could be accommodating.

A year that began with Gary Patterson on the sidelines for a 21st season concludes with the face of the program elsewhere.

He is elsewhere because administrators felt the style no longer fits this era of college athletics. Or society.

Most players past a certain age no longer will accept too much barking. Because they know they don’t have to take it.

They are right, which to an older generation is an indictment on their willingness to accept criticism. Then again, every older generation criticizes the kids coming up.

“Never in a million years did I think it would end this way,” said former receiver Curtis Clay, who was a walk-on but ended up as a starter on TCU’s Fiesta Bowl and Rose Bowl teams. “Coach P means so much for the university, and he did so much for me personally that I naively hoped he’d never leave.”

Gary Patterson’s legacy at TCU is eternal, but he is gone. And so too is the era of his of coaching.