A long time ago, a smart college administrator realized that a football team would inspire more enthusiasm than an English department. A good college football team could become a billboard, a siren, a mint. A good college football coach could become a Pied Piper, a magnet for attention and money.
That's how it is supposed to work. That's not how it worked on Saturday at TCF Bank Stadium, where the University of Minnesota's football program, and by extension the entire school, became the subject of pity and ridicule.
Jerry Kill suffered another seizure on another game day, and this time his boss chose to pretend nothing was wrong.
How can a school continue to employ a football coach who has had four seizures during or after the 16 home games he has coached at the school, along with an unknown number of seizures away from the public eye?
How can the athletic director in charge of that coach avoid speaking publicly about such a public and newsworthy event?
Kill suffers a seizure on game day as the coach of the Gophers at TCF Bank Stadium exactly as often as he wins a Big Ten game. He's 4-for-16 in both categories.
His latest epileptic seizure, suffered on Saturday, evokes sympathy for him and his family. He appears to be a good man earnestly trying to elevate a woeful program while searching for ways to manage his disease.
Even those who admire him most can't believe that he should keep coaching major college football after his latest episode. Either the stress of the job is further damaging his health, or his health was in such disrepair that he shouldn't have been hired to coach in the Big Ten in the first place.