The narrative from Aggieland is predictable, I suppose.
Marching in line has always been a Texas A&M specialty.
So here’s how the Aggies have chosen to spin it:
They stole our guy, so we stole theirs. It’s life in the Southeastern Conference, the “it just means more” league.
Last month Scott Woodward, after four indelible years as A&M athletic director, announced he was going home to Baton Rouge to become the new AD at LSU.
Following suit, the Aggies responded last week by “hiring away” the athletic director at . . . Ole Miss?
Hugh Freeze’s Ole Miss? NCAA probation Ole Miss? “Lack of institutional control” Ole Miss?
Yep. As one Texas newspaper’s story about the Aggie’s new AD put it, Ross Bjork “touched all the right bases.”
(Ole Miss fans should feel free to spit their breakfast cereal here).
While the Aggies were chortling about “poaching” and “stealing” an SEC rival’s man in charge, Rebels fans seem to be mostly exhaling in relief.
Good riddance, appears to be the popular reaction.
Bjork didn’t hire Freeze at Ole Miss, but he sat silently in the athletic director’s chair for six years while Freeze’s football program blossomed at a suspicious rate. When the NCAA investigators came, much to Ole Miss boosters’ chagrin, Bjork reportedly showed them where the dirty laundry was and pleaded mercy.
Remember that 2014 Ole Miss team that TCU absolutely destroyed 42-3 in the Peach Bowl? When NCAA sanctions came down, the Rebels had to forfeit eight wins from that season and 33 over a span from 2010 to 2016.
The NCAA accused Ole Miss of 15 Level I violations under Freeze and said the school lacked institutional control and harbored “an unconstrained culture of booster involvement in football recruiting.”
Booster involvement? Unconstrained culture?
What could possibly go wrong in AggieWorld?
There are two versions of what went wrong for Bjork in Mississippi. One is that his hands were tied because Freeze was winning, and he was forced to defend him initially by then-chancellor Jeffrey Vitter.
The other version is that he ratted out the program in order to maintain his own innocence.
Either way, what exactly are the Aggies doing here?
In my informal poll of SEC media friends, Bjork ranked no higher than 12th (of 14) among the conference’s athletic directors. He even got fewer votes than Joe Alleva, the AD that LSU fired and replaced with Woodward.
Bjork’s two most notable hires in Oxford were in football and men’s basketball. Former offensive line coach Matt Luke was named Freeze’s replacement and has gone 11-13 over two seasons. Respected coach Kermit Davis was hired in basketball and went 20-13 in his first season, making the NCAA tournament.
Bjork won’t have to solve those knotty problems in College Station, of course. Jimbo Fisher has a $75-million contract to be emperor of football, and in one of Woodward’s last acts he hired Buzz Williams from Virginia Tech to be the Aggies basketball coach.
A&M is awash in updated athletic facilties, so Bjork can concentrate on shaking hands and fostering that culture of booster involvement that Aggies thrive in.
He brings to Texas a reputation for raising money. But as always at A&M, as anywhere, donations rise and fall depending upon how the football team does. And nobody is more bullish of their football future than the Aggies.
Not surprisingly, according to reports, Fisher was all in favor of Bjork being Woodward’s replacement. Of course he was.
In Bjork, Jimbo knows he’s getting an AD who will mind his own business and even, as Bjork did at Ole Miss, produce a 21-minute video to defend him, should the new guy’s NCAA friends ever show up.
Woodward, who served as AD at Washington before going to A&M four years ago, is considered a young superstar in college athletics circles. At Washington he lured away Chris Petersen from Boise State, something many thought was impossible. He delivered Fisher and Williams to the Aggies and oversaw the renovation of Kyle Field.
This isn’t nearly a musical chairs game, though. Was anybody else really calling Ole Miss to hire Ross Bjork?
It reminds me of the day in 2012 when TCU’s then-AD Chris Del Conte stopped me and poked a finger in my chest. He knows I’m an LSU grad.
“We stole your guy,” Del Conte said. “We stole the LSU coach.”
He was talking about Trent Johnson, a fine coach and an even better person, but a man whose lack of basketball success in Baton Rouge had left administrators there with a fire-him-or-pray-he-leaves problem.
TCU solved that. LSU fans were stunned and relieved.
With its financial largesse, Texas A&M could have money-whipped almost any athletic director in the country, at least enough for an interview. Bjork was earning $700,000 at Ole Miss, third-least in the SEC.
Instead, for whatever reason, it settled for a guy who Jimbo wanted.
The decision speaks volumes, because the new AD probably won’t.
