URI coach’s firing strictly sad business

Bob Griffin picked up the phone at 10:10 p.m. last Friday and listened to someone he would identify only as “a top member of the administration.”

When he put the phone down, Griffin knew his 17-year tenure as head football coach at the University of Rhode Island was over. Saturday he coached his team for the final time, withholding from his players the fact his services were no longer wanted and he would not be back. Griffin waited to tell the team until after they fell 38-0 to Connecticut, doubling the pain of a 1-10 season.

“It was an emotional moment, the toughest moment I’ve had here,” said Griffin Tuesday, recounting his farewell to the URI players.

You might not have noticed Griffin’s pre-firing (it’s still not official because the URI administration is mulling over how to settle up on the year remaining on the coach’s contract), especially coming as it did in the midst of a hail of similar goings-on across the country.

Johnny Majors at Tennessee…. Jerry Berndt at Temple…. Earle Bruce at Colorado State…. Buddy Nix at Tennessee-Chatanooga…. As University of Maine head coach Kirk Ferentz said earlier this week, only partly in jest, “This is the time of year when football coaches and turkeys keep their heads down.”

The 1-10 season, Rhody’s sixth losing campaign in the last seven, stretched Griffin’s neck too long. With a new president and a new athletic director at URI looking at that recent trend rather than at the six winning seasons in nine years that preceded it, including back-to-back Yankee Conference championships in 1984 and ’85, the decision was made. The phone was dialed.

What should make Griffin’s firing of particular interest to Maine football fans and, for that matter, fans of I-AA football period, is the message it contains for coaches in this strictly business modern era of ours. To wit: loyalty has its downside.

“I had to know this 29 years ago when I got out of college,” said the 52-year-old Griffin, who steadfastly refuses to blame the URI administration for its action. “If I chose to coach and wanted stability, I should stay in high school. If I wanted to move up to where winning is the reason for the program, I should try Division I college football.

“I knew it would come to this,” continued Griffin, whose record at URI reads 79-107-1. “I just always saw myself leading the parade, rather than being drummed out.”

A parade of coaches is basically what Maine has experienced during Griffin’s tenure. Six different UM coaches stood on the opposite sideline from him. Five left Maine of their own volition to take higher-profile jobs. In essence, Maine’s coaching situation has been the polar opposite of URI’s the last 17 years.

It was the parade that led Maine fans and alums to grow increasingly irritated with the coaches’ lack of loyalty and to covet a stable, caring, honest individual who would give up the fast track and stay put.

Like Griffin did at Rhody.

The irony is not lost on Griffin, who is well aware fans demand both loyalty AND winning from a coach. At the I-AA level, he said, that’s sometimes demanding too much.

“Fans need to look at the nature of I-AA football. Some institutions, like Delaware, Villanova, and Richmond, will be perennially strong. They have great financial resources. Their bad years will be 6-5. The majority of us have good times and bad. The key is having good people directing those programs.

“Montana State beat us on the way to the national title in 1984 and hasn’t had a winning season since,” Griffin continued. “Look at what happened even to Richmond in our own conference (four straight losing seasons after winning the ’87 YC title). This is the nature of I-AA football that fans don’t want to understand.”

Despite his ouster, Griffin is not soured on college football. He said he wants to continue coaching. Asked what message he would offer fans, Griffin paused.

“That football does add something to a college, just as drama and theater does…. I’d just like to see people understand there are going to be down times,” said Griffin.

Sadly, it’s a message that doesn’t jibe with the business of college football.