"When I got here, those were the days you could have 95 on scholarship. We had 47. Lowest-scholarship program in college football. We were the only program that had lost 500 games in its history at that time."
The 1980s was a drab decade for sports. Football coaches wore the same outfit (a team polo of some sort tucked into tight pants). Games were played on AstroTurf that looked faded the moment it was laid down.
But when Bill Snyder took over at Kansas State in 1989, "drab" was far too positive an adjective. Under Jim Dickey and Stan Parrish, the Wildcats had gone 3-40-1 over the previous four seasons. But it wasn't Dickey and Parrish -- it was the program. Since 1940, K-State had finished with a winning record four times and had won three or fewer games 38 times. Snyder didn't inherit a rebuilding job. He inherited a building job.
"I was just amazed to hear young guys talk about never wearing their letter jackets because they were too embarrassed."
Bill Snyder in 1991, his second year at Kansas State. (Getty Images)
"The group of young guys that were leaving [when I arrived] -- those who had used up their eligibility -- I had asked to meet with each of them, and did," he says. "It was the first day I was on campus as a new coach. I had asked Joan [Friederich, his longtime administrative assistant] to reach out to each of them. I was just amazed at the response that I got. I wasn't interested in anybody beating up on anybody else. I just wanted to get to know them. I was just amazed to hear young guys talk about never wearing their letter jackets because they were too embarrassed. They were not going to class because they were embarrassed. They were not going to [local bars-and-restaurants district] Aggieville. There were no rules against it -- it was because of total embarrassment.
"What I found, to the man, was that their GPA and classroom attendance had dropped steadily from the day they entered Kansas State. What I realized very quickly was the dramatic impact the lack of success had on not only football, but their entire life. Our first approach to it, and I think this was what becomes significant because it's never changed, was never what the scoreboard said. I made that clear to our youngsters.
"What I wanted them to embrace were intrinsic values, the same things you teach your children and I teach my children. Things that would benefit them in all facets of their lives. One of those was just the capacity to find ways to get better every day, the implicity of improvement."
Snyder was not quite 50 when he took the job. After a year as graduate assistant at USC, his first head coaching job came in 1967 at Indio High School, northeast of San Diego. By 1974, he had signed on as offensive coordinator at Austin College, north of Dallas. In 1976, he became an assistant for Hayden Fry at North Texas State in nearby Denton.
Only about 10 years older than Snyder, Fry was already a coaching veteran. He had taken the SMU head coaching job in 1962 at age 32, and by 1963 he was also SMU's athletic director. He engineered two top-15 finishes in Dallas (No. 10 in 1966, No. 14 in 1968), but by the early-1970s, boosters had begun to rebel. He was fired following a 7-4 campaign in 1972.
In his last three years in Denton, Fry went 24-9. His Mean Green patented the art of the near-upset; they lost to Mississippi State three times by a combined 21 points. They lost at Texas, 17-14. They lost to Florida State, 21-20. But they also beat SMU in 1977 and Oklahoma State in 1978, and after back-to-back nine-win seasons, Iowa decided Fry deserved another big-time job. And Fry decided Snyder had earned a shot as a big-time offensive coordinator.
Since a run as a burgeoning dynasty in the late-1950s, the Hawkeyes had fallen on hard times. The last four coaches had combined to average 2.9 wins per season. But by Year 3, Fry's Hawkeyes were viable. They went 8-4 and made a surprise Rose Bowl run in 1981, then finished in the AP top 20 each year from 1983 to '87. They spent time at No. 1 in 1985 before a loss at Ohio State.
With Snyder calling the shots, Iowa's offense averaged at least 27.6 points per game every year of that five-year span. It slipped to 25.8 in his final season, then plummeted to 17.9 in his absence. When he arrived at Kansas State, the Wildcats hadn't averaged even 16.9 points per game in almost a decade.
"I shared with our young guys that I would make judgment upon how well we improved day to day," he says. "And we've carried that out throughout the entirety of our program. And I'm blessed today that we have the examples, the tangible. We talk about intangibles all the time -- toughness, discipline, enthusiasm, spirit, and all those kinds of intrinsic things -- but our first year, we were 1-10. I got all those calls about 'You better get out of there. You're going to end up an insurance salesman.' But I felt great about that first year because they kept getting better on the field, as students, and in other facets of their lives."
He probably got warning calls before he took the job. Did he have reservations?
"I didn't know as much as I needed to know. But if I had, I don't know if it would have altered my decision. My decision was based on people, and I was sincerely impressed and affectionate toward the people of Kansas State. I knew the football wasn't good. They had some problems with it. It wasn't anybody in particular's fault -- it was the way it was."
You could spend a day trying to get Snyder to say something negative. It won't happen.
***
Willie the Wildcat, left, was Kansas State's logo from 1975-1988. The Powercat has been the logo since 1989. (Via)
Sometimes rebuilding is rebranding. From the start, his 'Cats set out to not only play differently than before, but look different, too.
And during that meeting, and during one of the many fiery lectures that he hoped would pave way for a steady program-wide renovation, the new head coach, in a peculiar move, gave each player a license plate. Willie the Wildcat was gone. These license plates bore a new logo. A Powercat.
The Powercat endured a few painful moments, but as a result, every great Snyder moment is visually tied to all the others.
To date, Snyder's KSU had looked like everybody else's -- the Wildcats lost the season opener, 31-0, to Arizona State, and fell by two points to Northern Iowa, 10-8, the next week. They'd finally broken through on offense in Week 3, scoring 20 points against Northern Illinois, but they'd allowed 37. A loaded Big 8 slate -- starting at Nebraska, finishing with Oklahoma and Colorado -- awaited.
But the closing seconds of the North Texas game are on YouTube for a reason. For the first time in almost exactly three years, Kansas State got to celebrate a victory, and the Powercat was there.
There were no leaps. All hints of improvement happened week to week and day to day.
"I had all of our coaches make sure that our players define for their coaches what it is that they can improve upon today and what they are going to put focus on when they go onto the field. We didn't have a lot of guys, and the locker room wasn't as big then as it is now. I'd do in there after every practice, and I'd corner every guy, and I'd put people at the door so they couldn't leave. I'd ask them what they tried to work on and what they were doing and whether they improved. They thought it was tedious, I'm sure, but persistence is one of those intrinsic values. Over a period of time, they became a bit better because they realized, 'This guy's not going to give up on this.'
"I used to go into the meeting rooms, and I would take each guy in the meeting room and ask them, 'What's important to you?' Sometimes it was football or academics or family. I'd say, 'What can you do today to get better?' They'd think about it, and they'd answer, and it'd be accurate, and they'd get a little bit better.
"I'd say, 'What can you do today to get better?' They'd think about it, and they'd answer, and it'd be accurate, and they'd get a little bit better."
"That hasn't changed."
KSU lost all seven of its conference games in 1989 (average score: Opponent 36, KSU 12) and finished 1-10. But Snyder's scheduling began to pay off in 1990. For a program in need of confidence, so desperate for reasons to feel good about itself, Snyder scheduled the weakest possible opponents in non-conference slots. The tests would come in the Big 8, but the confidence would come in September.
In 1990, KSU beat Western Illinois, New Mexico, and New Mexico State, fell again to NIU, then beat Oklahoma State and Iowa State in conference play.
In 1991, the Wildcats took down Indiana State (barely) and Idaho State and got over the NIU hump. They beat Kansas, 16-12, to start Big 8 play (it was their first win over KU in five tries), and following a competitive loss at Oklahoma, they turned the first of many corners: they won three in a row. They knocked out Iowa State, Missouri, and Oklahoma State by a combined score of 105-33. Sure, the three would combine to go 6-24-3 that season. But the fact that KSU was beating the sacrificial lambs was indisputable progress.
After a setback in 1992 -- KSU began 3-0 but struggled on the road and finished 5-6 -- the real breakthrough came in 1993. Not only did the Wildcats thrash the thrashable, they broke through against the Big 8's best. They gave No. 6 Nebraska a major fight in Lincoln. They tied No. 16 Colorado. And to celebrate their first visit to the AP rankings since 1970, they whipped No. 14 Oklahoma, 21-7. They destroyed Wyoming, 52-17, in the Cooper Bowl to cap their best season in eight decades, a 9-2-1 run.
They followed that top-20 finish with nine in the next 10 seasons.
"I think we were 5-6, 7-4, and then we won nine games, 10 games, 11 in six of seven years. What it indicated to me was a steady climb. We didn't jump suddenly -- we had those increments in between."
Because there was such steady momentum, but never too much momentum, maintaining perspective wasn't hard. And as the profile grew, he had a choice to make.
"My thoughts are, don't forget how you got there. When we started out, I talked to my coaches, and I said we could go out and go after those four- or five-star guys, and I don't know what that means, honestly. We can chase those guys, and we may get some of them to visit. We may get into the kid's top five or four or three. But our reality is that we have more losses than anybody in college football history. We have 13,000 average attendance. We'd be wasting a lot of time and effort, which would be better served by going after those guys just underneath. Those are the fallback players the well-established schools fall back on, but those schools don't spend a lot of time getting to know them.
"So that's what we did. We have a lot of guys in the NFL, and we've got guys in there for 10, 11 years who weren't drafted, a number of guys who were walk-ons in the program. Our job is to develop people. You can't go scrape anybody off the street, of course, but if you can look at what this guy's going to look like in three years and how we're going to get him to look like that ...
"I think we've been fortunate in regard to recruiting. Granted, we've sent some fish hooks out there. I cautioned our guys ... there was a period of time in which we learned our lesson, saw the proof of the pudding. We had some [coaches] who were starting to reach out to some of those very high-profile guys, and we got beat up. Maybe we could have been successful doing that, but what we anticipated would happen, did happen. We ended up empty-handed."
***
One step at a time. From 1994 to '96, the Wildcats went 28-8: 0-6 against Nebraska and Colorado and 28-2 against everybody else. In 1997, they cleared the Colorado hurdle, losing only to Nebraska and finishing 11-1. In 1998, they scored a milestone over the Huskers, their first since 1968. The path was clear for a national title shot, but KSU fell in overtime to Texas A&M in the third annual Big 12 title game.
No matter who left -- and since Snyder was hitting the local junior colleges hard, he had a high degree of annual turnover -- KSU kept winning. The Wildcats finally claimed their Big 12 title with a romp over undefeated Oklahoma in 2003.
While there were some former four-star prospects on that team, the two-deep wasn't exactly full of them.
"I think all coaches across the country believe in their evaluation system, and I think you have to carry the system beyond the football field. You can get that tremendous player who fits your Xs and Os, but he might not fit in the locker room or in the class room, and he might create some problems that aren't worth him being in the program. The overall assessment is so important."
And how do you go about making this assessment?
"I ask our coaches to go in and visit with classroom teachers about the youngster's presence in the classroom -- not just how he does on test scores, but his presence. We talk to everybody we can. We reach out to relatives other than just the parents. Neighbors, friends, virtually everybody in the school. Secretaries, custodians. We try to get a very precise opinion."
Serving as a Snyder assistant is an internship. It is a crash course. You learn about every stone you have to turn over to succeed. It isn't fun. The hours he and his staff spend on their jobs are notorious. But if you survive, there's a good job waiting for you.
- Oklahoma head coach Bob Stoops was the defensive backs coach on Snyder's inaugural KSU staff, then moved to defensive co-coordinator for five years.
- Former Arizona head coach Mike Stoops spent seven years on staff, first as defensive ends coach, then as defensive co-coordinator following his brother's departure for Florida, then solo coordinator.
- Jim Leavitt was defensive co-coordinator from 1992 to '95 before scoring the first head coaching position at USF.
- Former Kansas head coach Mark Mangino spent seven years on the offensive staff before joining Bob Stoops at OU.
- Arkansas head coach Bret Bielema was defensive co-coordinator in 2002 to '03.
And those are only the most successful names. The Snyder coaching tree is an oak. His influence on the profession has been trumped only by that of his former boss, Coach Fry.
***
"I think the year we took the biggest dip was predicated more than anything else on a given position," Snyder says. "I wouldn't want to make that public, of course. But we probably made some coaching mistakes regarding how we used a certain position in our program."
Snyder is saying that his quarterbacks in 2004 and 2005 stunk. But he would never in a million years say that. Following the conference title and Ell Roberson's departure, the Wildcats returned all-world running back Darren Sproles, but the quarterback position was far from consistent. Snyder had a decent runner in Allen Webb and a decent passer in the late Dylan Meier, but he couldn't play them at the same time. KSU's average fell from 36.6 points per game to 29.6. In 2005, it fell to 26.3. And the once-impenetrable defense sprang leaks. Even the best coaches falter if they struggle at quarterback or if they have to replace too many ace assistants. Eventually you'll end up with a weak spot, or your new hire won't be as successful as the last one.
Kansas State went 9-13 in 2004 and '05, and Snyder retired. As almost every one of KSU's best seasons had come under his watch, the stadium was named after him: Bill Snyder Family Stadium. (The "Family" is in there presumably because he doesn't like to have full credit directed at only him.)
A three-year experiment with Ron Prince ended up a failure, and Snyder returned for 2009, ready for more growth at the age of 69.
Of course, you know that's not the end. A three-year experiment with Ron Prince ended up a failure, and Snyder returned for 2009, ready for more growth at the age of 69.
The hill wasn't as steep. The Wildcats were not riding a three-year losing streak. Still the growth was slow and steady: 6-6 in 2009, 7-6 in 2010, 10-3 in 2011, 11-2 with a second conference title in 2012.
"It wasn't football that brought me back; it was people. We were able to do the same thing. The point that I have the capacity to express with the young guys we have in our program is that once again, it was gradual improvement."
The defense is more flexible these days. It has a few more bend-don't-break tendencies. The offense has hints of spread in it while maintaining Snyder's patented power-running ways*.
* I asked him about my article linked here. His response: "One of our coaches gave me a copy of that article. It was interesting to me as well, so we gained some benefit out of it. I think the diversity of our system is key. We can be five receivers or two tight ends and a back. All of those people have the capacity of lining up and performing at a variety of positions. A lot of people are doing that; we're not alone. But how we utilize our guys is very diverse."
The program is evolving, but that's the point. The work never stops. Even for the engineer of the most spectacular, sustained rebuild in football's long history, if you ever stop trying to improve from day to day, you'll fall behind.
We jokingly call him a wizard because of his ability to succeed in a way that nobody else could. There have to be magic tricks, right? But the reality is that Snyder has written the manual on building a program. He identified and followed every step. He works long hours, he nags his players, he challenges his coaches, and he evolves. He has created a path that almost nobody else can follow. It's too long, too hard, too detailed.
When I ask him about 2014, in which too many analysts are calling K-State a Big 12 dark horse for them to actually be a dark horse, Snyder chuckles.
"I think most of us like being a dark horse."
He was the nation's biggest dark horse when he took a job nobody wanted in 1989. The label has suited him rather well.