Urban Meyer proves, once again, that he will never learn from his mistakes

The NFL is many things, both good and bad. One thing is it for certain is a great equalizer: It will spit you out of its enormous mouth if you don’t pack the gear to serve within it, and even if you do, it will spit you out the second you don’t.

Urban Meyer proved much more quickly than most that he never packed the gear.

None of Meyer’s preposterous tenure with the Jaguars should have come as a surprise. During his time at Florida and at Ohio State, reams of scandals were covered up and ignored and passed on because of the talent of the players Meyer recruited, and because, for whatever reason, there has been a constant interest in holding Meyer up as a paragon of integrity when he has absolutely never met that standard. It is a common agreement between college coaches and those who mysteriously adore them, and never more so than it was for Meyer and his hagiographers, no matter the evidence against.

Perhaps it’s a desperate need in some for a more “innocent” time when players had no rights, and coaches were seen as Great Fathers when they were actually Great Oppressors. When things were far less complicated. When important questions were not asked of those in authority.

But the best thing about more complicated times is that’s when the most important questions are asked. What true responsibilities do those in authority have to those they govern in any capacity? How can those governed fight back in the right ways? And how long does it have to take before those singularly ill-equipped to lead others are removed from those positions of authority?

Last week, Meyer found out exactly how complicated the NFL is when the Jaguars cashiered him just 13 games into his tenure. It’s entirely appropriate that his abbreviated time in the league matched exactly that of Bobby Petrino, who laid waste to the Falcons in less than one full season in 2007. Because Meyer proved to be just as out of touch, just as cowardly, just as bullying, just as soft when he wanted to be thought of as hard, and just as ill-suited to be a leader of men, as Petrino ever was.

On Friday, Meyer spoke with Ian Rapoport of the NFL Network about his dismissal.

It went exactly as you’d expect.

The Rapoport interview: Meyer has no remorse.

(AP Photo/Phelan M. Ebenhack)

In a 23-minute interview, Rapoport gave Meyer every opportunity to express remorse for his behavior and coaching malfeasance during his time with the Jaguars, and he absolutely refused to do so.

“I just apologize to Jacksonville,” Meyer said. “I love Jacksonville. It’s one of the reasons I took the job. I still think Shad [Khan is] a great owner. It’s heartbreaking. I just had a dream of it becoming a destination place with a new facility he agreed to build and some day to walk into that stadium where it’s standing room only. Because I know how bad the people of Jacksonville want it. So, I’m just heartbroken that we weren’t able to do that. I still believe it’s going to be done. It’s too good of a place.”

Then, Meyer blamed his botched handing of running back James Robinson’s in-game benching was due to a miscommunication when Meyer lied about the benching after it happened. He said that first-overall pick Trevor Lawrence would be a great quarterback, and blamed injuries to Lawrence’s targets and a lack of creativity among his offensive coaching staff for Lawrence’s struggled. That may be true, but there was no mention of Meyer’s role in Lawrence’s NFL issues. He said that he didn’t believe in blaming players, but that doesn’t exactly square up with the way things went.

And with a truly mind-boggling lack of self-reflection (even for him), Meyer blamed the lack of resonance of his coaching style — a style that included calling the assistant coaches he hired “losers” and threatening their jobs on a weekly basis — on a generational construct.

“I think college has changed quite a bit, too,” Meyer said when asked why his style didn’t go over. “Just society has changed. You think how hard you pushed… I believe there is greatness in everybody and it’s the coach’s job to find that greatness however you do that. Positive encouragement. Pushing them to be greater, making them work harder, identifying flaws and trying to fix [them]. I think everything is so fragile right now. And that includes coaching staffs. When I got into coaching, coaches weren’t making this kind of money and they didn’t have agents. Everything is so fragile where it used to be team, team, team. I remember talking about it in a staff meeting three days ago. I got into this profession because I had the greatest high school coach and it was all about team. All about the huddle.”

Nowadays, players and coaches want to understand why they’re asked to do what they do. They want to be treated as human beings, not widgets.

What has the world come to?

Meyer’s wistful remembrance of a time when the rights of the individual were crushed by the power of the collective shows precisely just how mentally weak he must be to believe such a thing. It also proves, as if *waves arms wildly at the wreckage he’s produced* didn’t do that already, that he should never coach again. At any level.

Two of the most successful NFL head coaches of the last decade — Pete Carroll and Bruce Arians — are 69 and 70 years old, respectively. They are two men who remember when everybody was told to shut up and dribble. They willingly ceded to the new reality, and they’ve been rewarded far more than Meyer and his ilk will ever be.

May it ever be so.

What's next for Meyer?

(Joseph Maiorana-USA TODAY Sports)

Perhaps Meyer will coach again — Petrino had opportunities at Arkansas, Western Kentucky, and Louisville, though his lack of self-discipline showed up in his post-Falcons time as well. Perhaps after Petrino’s own embarrassing NFL tenure, people were less inclined to bury such things in the name of the purity of the college football mystique. That should be a warning shot to Petrino’s ultimate successor.

If Meyer doesn’t want that particular spotlight again, he’ll unquestionably get another shot at an analyst’s role, as he did with FOX Sports before he and the Jaguars made that mutual mistake. Meyer can present an image of personable and squeaky-clean leadership to an audience that wants to turn its head away from the modern truth, and nobody in American history has ever gone broke playing on the desperate desire of some for a simpler time.

The NFL will get along just fine without Urban Meyer — he’s a blip on the radar in the big picture.

Perhaps that’s the one lesson Meyer should take from this, if he’s capable — that in the NFL, no matter how imposing you think you appear when you come in, it’ll make you look as small as you really are in no time flat.

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