Now or Never
The framed photo sits in Daryl Gross’ office on a shelf above his computer, partially hidden by a miniature statue of a Syracuse football player.
It’s a well-known shot. A window into a time three years ago when Syracuse football was something more than a punch line in Division I football. When optimism still made its way to the Carrier Dome on fall Saturdays.
There’s Greg Robinson, front and center, a smile creeping onto his lips as he slips on an orange hat with ‘SU’ emblazoned on the front.
That hat fit so perfectly then. Robinson had it all: the Pete Carroll connection, the California-bred charisma, those two Super Bowl rings.
Gross is in the picture, too, the then-newly minted athletic directory beaming like a proud father. This was his statement hire. His avowal that a pair of 6-6 seasons weren’t going to be good enough under his watch.
But more than anything, this was about Robinson. This picture, this day, this new era of Syracuse football. As Robinson stood at that podium on Jan. 11, 2005 and was introduced as the 27th head coach in Syracuse football history, it was all about him.
***
Greg Robinson doesn’t want it to be about him anymore.
Not on this gray morning in August, at Syracuse football’s media day. Not after winning seven games in three seasons, tied for the worst such stretch in program history. Not after suffering through all the speculation about his job last year, wondering whether he would get another season to steer this program out of its tailspin.
The memories of last season – those distractions – no doubt lingered with Robinson as he offered a plea for the recorders and television cameras in front of him.
‘One thing I would like to say to you is this, and I’ve talked to our team about this,’ Robinson said, his voice gathering conviction. ‘This is not about me. It is not about me. This is about a team, getting ready for a football season. And we’re talking about this season, we’re not talking about a future season or anything like that.
‘And I would really appreciate it from you (the media), to not put the focus on something other that I’ve just talked about. About this team, and about this season. Anything else isn’t fair to the kids.’
But as much as Robinson wants to avoid it, this season is all about him.
It’s about him because someone must be held accountable for the numbers. Because under his watch, the Orange has managed a .200 winning percentage and two Big East wins. Because that winning percentage is the worst among any Syracuse head coach in the last century. Because average attendance dropped last season to 35,009 – a 22-year low.
It’s about him because these are his players now. He’s had four years to build his vision of Syracuse football. As talent-deprived as the Orange might have been when Paul Pasqualoni was fired, Robinson can’t fall back on that now.
And this season is about Greg Robinson because unless he can right this program and save his job, his legacy will be as follows:
As the man who oversaw the most barren period in modern Syracuse football history. A mistake. One the dwindling crowds coming out to the Carrier Dome would like to forget.
He’s had to change the culture since he got here. Some didn’t want to be a part of it. Lamar McPherson, who committed when Pasqualoni was coach, found that out quickly.
McPherson said Robinson’s new west coast offense didn’t fit McPherson, who honed his physical style playing for Bishop McDevitt High School in Wyncote, Pa.
‘When I got there, Coach Robinson, his philosophy was totally different,’ McPherson said this summer. ‘It was his first time being a coach, and I didn’t want my career being kind of like a guinea pig, somebody testing.
‘I needed development, and I think it was more for like NFL. I needed a lot more development. Stuff that made me good, like my physicality and my effort. I’m not a flashy player. I’m a blue-collar, east coast player. I think he’s looking for five-star type of recruit.’
McPherson transferred to Temple a year later.
Greg Robinson is still here. He’s still a maelstrom of energy, yelling and clapping and yo-yoing around the practice field. Still preaching his vision for what he believes Syracuse can be under his watch. Still offering his press conference sermons about the spirit and spunkiness and sheer will of his players.
He’s still here. With one more chance.
***
Gross knows it can’t go on like this.
It can’t go on from a reputation standpoint. A recent ESPN poll ranked the Orange as one of the 10 worst teams in the nation. A more recent Forbes poll rated Robinson the second most overpaid coach in the country – his $1.1 million salary in 2007 hardly justifying SU’s 2-10 record.
It can’t go on from a financial standpoint, either. The average home attendance last season was 35,009, the lowest in two decades. In 2006, the football program reported a loss in money for the first time since the government started collecting data from universities in 1995, as reported by The Daily Orange last April.
Someone has to be held accountable, and that person is Robinson. Gross said he needed to see ‘tangible improvement’ in 2008 for the head coach to keep his job.
‘He’s a big boy,’ Gross said later. ‘He’s held up the Lombardi Trophy. He’s seen every level of football, on and off the field. So he’s sophisticated, and he understands that we need to get better.
‘Last year was definitely a setback. So in that regard, it was tough for people.’
Certainly Robinson’s not the only one at fault here. Pasqualoni left little to work with talent-wise. Robinson was running a chariot race without any horses.
There have been injuries, too. Running back Delone Carter and Curtis Brinkley have missed significant time. Former wide receiver Taj Smith went down for the season in 2006.
But those excuses only go so far. They nearly reached their limit last year, after a 2-10 campaign, in which the Orange was outscored, 418-197. After the season, Robinson waited for a week while Gross met with advisors, Chancellor Nancy Cantor and the Board of Trustees.
On Nov. 28, Gross announced via a press release that Robinson would remain the head coach for a fourth season.
‘In life, you have a chance to do things that are fair, and I thought this was fair,’ Gross later said. ‘… I’m not guaranteeing if you give somebody more time, it’s going to work out. But you do try to guarantee is fairness.’
This was supposed to be Robinson’s wake-up call. Days later, Robinson sounded like he had gotten the message loud and clear.
‘I want to shake everything and every person in the program,’ Robinson said in December, ‘and do what has to be done to make this thing push to the next level. … Up until it happens, everything needs to be shaken – including me.’
***
You wouldn’t know any of this had happened if you saw Greg Robinson on the practice field.
The 56-year-old runs from field to field in between drills, his cropped, white hair always tidy. He claps and chatters encouragement to his players as they stretch and jog during warmups. Sometimes during drills, he will yell, gesture and do just about everything except toss on a helmet and hit the tackling dummy himself.
‘On the practice field he’s a little crazy,’ Carter, his prized tailback, said. ‘He has little adrenaline rushes and thinks he has pads on sometimes.’
‘We also have a thing called the circle drill, which is when two dudes start fighting,’ said defensive lineman Jared Kimmel. ‘He really gets in there. He’s been hit before.’
You’d never know that Syracuse lost its best wide receiver (Mike Williams) and a starting defensive end (Brandon Gilbeaux) this summer. Or that this team was picked to finish last in the conference at Big East media day. Or that the Orange has only four verbal commitments for the 2009 class according to Scout.com, fewest in the Big East.
Watching Robinson, you can almost see the scrappy, shaggy-haired California kid played center, linebacker and tight end at Pacific in the mid-70s.
Chester Caddas, the head coach at Pacific from 1972-78, coached Robinson at the school, and then hired him in 1976 as a graduate assistant – Robinson’s first coaching gig.
Every now and again, Caddas thumbs through photos from those days. There’s one with Greg Robinson on one side of him, dark hair dangling over his ears. Southern California head coach Pete Carroll is on the other side, hair falling to his shoulders.
Robinson and Carroll were graduate assistants then, each dabbling in their first coaching job. Caddas’ assistants lived in a rent-free apartment, ate for free at a dining hall and got paid next to nothing.
‘They were tremendous guys to have on your staff,’ Caddas said. ‘If nothing else, they were enthusiasm guys. An idea a minute.’
Robinson hasn’t made himself the center of attention with this team. He’s tried to echo his media day comments, to shield them from the unavoidable uncertainty surrounding his future.
‘If he did (get frustrated), he did it behind closed doors,’ said wide receiver Lavar Lobdell. ‘He never really showed that. If something was to happen inside his head, he’s just gonna do what he has to do, and that’s just coach us and get us ready week in and week out. He pretty much stays the same all throughout.’
He may hide it from his players, but those defensive instincts have come out more lately. Robinson clings to his vision, the idea that he has this team on the right path.
There were changes this offseason. Browning became the third offensive coordinator in four years. Last year’s defensive coordinator, Steve Russ, left for Wake Forest, and Robinson resumed his defensive coordinator role he held two years prior at SU.
But Robinson bristles at the idea that his program isn’t on the right path. Remember that comment from December? About shaking things up? Robinson sang a different tune on media day.
‘I don’t know if I made the statement, shake things up,’ Robinson said. ‘I don’t think that’s what it’s all about. I think I talked about evaluating every detail. I don’t shake things up just to shake things up.
‘I wouldn’t want you to get the idea that at the end of last season we had to shake things up because we had a 2-10 season. In some cases, no, stay the course.’
So if Robinson goes down, he’s going to do it his way. Trust in the players he’s recruited and the philosophies he’s held all along. This is his mess to fix, and he has one last chance to do it.
Or else somebody will have to be held accountable.
***
Daryl Gross wants to believe in Greg Robinson, the same way he did three years ago, when the Super Bowl rings and Carroll connection won him over from the start.
‘You have to remember, we had about a month to do a search,’ Gross recalled, sitting in his office. ‘… To find a Greg Robinson with his resume, that’s why when we hired him nobody complained, they all applauded.
‘He bleeds orange. Probably wears orange everyday. I’ll tell you, there’s not a guy in the country you’d want to root for more than him.’
No amount of sentiment will save Greg Robinson this time around unless he achieves success. Any meaning left in that photo – the one with Robinson before the podium, putting that orange hat on – will fade away.
For now, Gross stands up and strides over to the picture.
‘Forgot that was back there,’ he says.
He picks it up and looks at it. There’s a message written on the photo, signed in bold, black ink.
Gross reads it aloud.
Daryl,
I like your guiding eyes over me. We’ll have a great run.
-Greg
Published on August 27, 2008 at 12:00 pm
