Sports writers of my ancient generation, and even previously, had a tendency to take ahold of a saying and twist it to fit their narrative.
One of these was "voice in the wilderness," which gets a mention in the Bible, I'm told, and in proper English literature refers to someone expressing an opinion that is not popular.
Those of us reading sports sections starting in the late 1950s were likely to see references to the "voices in the wilderness" that were grumbling to a point that a coach was in danger of being fired.
For sure, the voices in the wilderness — meaning thousands — were out to get Murray Warmath as the Gophers football coach after a combined record of 3-15 in 1958-59.
Murray survived that by going to two straight Rose Bowls. By the time he "resigned" in 1971, the Vikings owned the autumn and the Gophers' football wilderness was much smaller than was the case a dozen years earlier.
I've been partial to that phrase, and have been of the opinion that no coach (per percentage of fan base) was more subject to voices in the wilderness than the Gophers hockey coaches that followed in the skates of Herb Brooks.
Brooks was beloved for winning the Gophers' first three NCAA titles (1974, 1976, 1979), and then sainted after his 1980 Olympic team rode Jim Craig's hot goaltending to a gold medal in Lake Placid, N.Y.
Brad Buetow followed Herbie with a .689 winning percentage in six seasons, reached what's now the Frozen Four twice (losing to Wisconsin in the 1981 final), and the voices got him fired.