The evidence is right in front of us, hiding in small but pivotal moments which only resonate if we understand the history. Together, they signal the arrival of equal opportunity for Black college football coaches.
I almost flinched when I wrote that, expecting one of my elders to smack me in the back of the head and bark, Equality? When only 16 of 134 head coaches at the top level of college football are Black? When no Black coach has ever won a national championship, not in Division 1, FBS, FCS, Division 2 – while more than half of the players are Black? C’mon, son. They said America was “post-racial” after Obama got elected, and you see how that turned out.
Yes, sir – that is the history. And yes, the recent backlash against racial progress can be seen as evidence that we have not reached a tipping point in college football. But as two Black head coaches face off in Thursday’s playoff semifinal – Marcus Freeman of Notre Dame vs. James Franklin of Penn State (7:30 p.m. ET, ESPN) – I’d like to respectfully mark a few moments that show the sacrifices of previous generations are bearing fruit.
One moment came during Notre Dame’s quarterfinal victory over Georgia. Up 23-10 with 7:17 left in the game, Freeman’s team was facing fourth-and-1 on its own 18-yard line. The Irish lined up to punt – and then the punt team sprinted off the field, replaced by an offense that seemed ready to go for the first down. Georgia, clearly caught off guard, scrambled to get its defense back on the field, but was drawn offsides by the chaos Freeman created. With a fresh set of downs, Notre Dame ran another five minutes off the clock, sealing the win.
“That right there is all head coaching. That is all on Marcus Freeman being creative,” said color commentator Greg McElroy on the ESPN broadcast. “That’s all on Marcus Freeman. That’s great, great execution.”
What’s so special about McElroy stating the obvious? Well, for most of the century-plus history of college football, Black coaches were not seen as tacticians or strategists. They could recruit Black talent, they could “relate” to and inspire players. But to think, execute, win with intelligence instead of athleticism? Consciously or not, that was considered the domain of the white men who maintained control of the sport.
Earlier in the broadcast, McElroy did refer to Freeman’s ability to relate to his players, and my antenna went up. McElroy was speaking the truth – Freeman is 38 years old, with tremendous charisma and presence. He was an All-Big Ten linebacker at Ohio State, still looks like he can bench press a refrigerator, and keeps a fresh haircut. Of course players rock with him.
But for McElroy to also praise Freeman’s brain recognizes him as a coach in full. That Freeman outsmarted a coach named Kirby Smart, who led Georgia to back-to-back national championships in 2021 and 2022, was another small but loud moment. Smart was so befuddled, he claimed the pivotal non-punt was illegal. Think again, Kirb.
I found it significant that the broadcasting team did not cut to Notre Dame special teams coach Marty Biagi, a white man with gray in his beard, and praise him for the punt switch-up – like what I see happen often with the Pittsburgh Steelers, coached by Mike Tomlin, and their special teams coach Danny Smith. The whole Notre Dame sequence reminded me of something I learned about Freeman as I prepared to interview him for a story earlier this season: In 2022, when Brian Kelly left the Irish to lead LSU, Freeman was Notre Dame’s defensive coordinator, and had never been a head coach. He won the Notre Dame job over Cincinnati head coach Luke Fickell, who not only was coming off a 13-1 season, but had coached Freeman at Ohio State and later hired him to run his Cincinnati defense.
A Black coach getting chosen over an older white man, who used to be his coach AND his boss, to lead one of the most prestigious brands in sports? That’s the type of moment that shows the game has changed.
I see more evidence in the journey of Franklin, 52, whose career has been a long, slow grind to the top. The narrative of his 11 seasons leading Penn State has become his struggle to win big games. This season, he lost to Ohio State at home, making his record against the Buckeyes 1-10. He lost to Oregon in the Big Ten championship game, dropping his record against top-5 teams to 1-14. History shows that when Black coaches do get a chance to lead the top programs, they don’t have much time to win. Tyrone Willingham at Notre Dame, Charlie Strong at Texas, Kevin Sumlin at Texas A&M – they all quickly ran out of runway, and were replaced by white men who were given more time and/or money.
But Penn State has stuck with Franklin, even after he went 4-5 in 2020 and 7-6 in 2021. And that belief has paid off, with the program’s most successful season in decades, knocking on the door of a national championship.
John Thompson, a tireless advocate for justice and the first Black coach to win the NCAA basketball championship, said in the autobiography I helped him write that “to be truly free, we must have the freedom not to be successful.” What he meant, in a sports context, is that there are plenty of white coaches who get hired despite mediocre qualifications, or don’t win consistently and still enjoy long careers. Black coaches should not have to be Supernegroes to get or keep a job.
(Some of y’all must be tired of me leaning on Thomspon so often. I’m trying not to, but his influence was that profound. May he rest in peace.)
Would Penn State fire Franklin if he loses to Notre Dame? What about if he makes the championship game but loses again to Ohio State – which faces Texas in the other semifinal (Friday, 10 p.m. ET, ESPN) – in the championship? What about if they don’t make the playoff next season? I doubt it. But the elders would not be shocked.
Neither Freeman nor Franklin would be contending for a national title without the expansion of the playoff this year, from four teams to 12. To me, this is a metaphor for the broader cause of equal opportunity in America.
History shows that college football – and America in general – has unfairly hoarded influence and opportunity among a privileged few, while claiming it was a meritocracy and telling everyone else they weren’t good enough. Adding more teams doesn’t give Notre Dame or Penn State a “break” – it balances advantages that have been structurally baked into the system. It expands opportunity and opens a door to equality.
Either Franklin or Freeman will be the first Black coach to reach the national championship game, but I don’t think that’s the right milestone. Who wants to celebrate the first loser? If one of them wins, I will remember previous Black coaches who had the ability and intelligence to be national champions – Eddie Robinson, Jake Gaither, Willie Jeffries, John Merritt, among others – but were denied an equal opportunity to compete.
And I will think of the small moments in the journeys of Freeman and Franklin, the tiny rays of light, that announced the arrival of a new era.