We have to be careful what we wish for. Because there is this out there.
Every time I hate on Gus and my teeth grind into shards, I remember Tennessee. Lane to Derek to Butch to Penis. Decades wandering the desert. And it wasn't long ago, they were a good program. Their dumpster burned, burned some more, and then sprouted a volcano.
When I just want to start over, I remember FSU. Jimbo wasn't/isn't a great coach. He's a snake. They've been clinging to the edge of the toilet bowl since Daddy Bowden was forced out. Mr. Hydration, or whoever they have now, turned the water off and just pushed the handle and held it down until all the water was gone. Then he took an enchilada dump in the dry bowl.
That's what scares me. I've always been told you can't make decisions out of fear. But as bad and as frustrating as Gus is, things could be worse. And as bad as they are (yes, I am on the 'seen enough to make a decision' bus) do we trust the people making the decisions not to come up with a Penis Pruitt or a recycled Kevin Sumlin or some other garbage can hire?