The Old Dog’s New Trick: Kalani Sitake’s Counterintuitive Approach to College Football
There’s something almost poetic about Kalani Sitake’s current position in college football. Suddenly, he’s the longest-tenured coach in the Big 12, a league known for its volatility and high-stakes drama. What makes this particularly fascinating is how Sitake got here—not by outspending rivals or chasing the latest trends, but by doubling down on something far more old-school: culture. In an era where NIL deals and transfer portals dominate headlines, Sitake’s approach feels like a throwback. But is it? Or is he onto something the rest of us are missing?
The LaVell Edwards Blueprint: More Than Just Nostalgia
Sitake’s constant invocation of LaVell Edwards isn’t just a nod to BYU’s history—it’s a strategic anchor. Edwards, a legend in college football, built his legacy on relationships, discipline, and a focus on long-term development. Sitake’s adherence to this philosophy is both refreshing and risky. Personally, I think it’s a masterclass in understanding what truly sustains a program. While other coaches are throwing millions at recruits, Sitake is selling something far less tangible but potentially more valuable: a sense of belonging.
What many people don’t realize is that Edwards’ success wasn’t just about X’s and O’s—it was about creating an environment where players thrived beyond the field. Sitake’s emphasis on this model raises a deeper question: Can a culture-first approach compete in today’s hyper-commercialized college football landscape? From my perspective, it’s not just about competing—it’s about redefining what success looks like.
Money vs. Meaning: The Sitake Paradox
One thing that immediately stands out is Sitake’s stance on NIL deals. While programs like Texas Tech and LSU are throwing around millions, Sitake is unapologetically pragmatic. ‘If it’s about their checking account, we probably aren’t going to be the best place for you,’ he says. This isn’t just a moral stand—it’s a strategic one. Sitake understands that not every player is motivated by money, and those who aren’t are often the ones who buy into a program’s culture.
But here’s the kicker: Sitake isn’t anti-money. He’s anti-only-money. He recognizes that compensation comes in many forms—like the camaraderie of a tight-knit team or the satisfaction of personal growth. If you take a step back and think about it, this is a brilliant way to differentiate BYU in a crowded market. It’s not about outbidding rivals; it’s about offering something they can’t.
The Player Perspective: Why LJ Martin Matters
A detail that I find especially interesting is the testimony of LJ Martin, BYU’s star running back. Martin’s comment that college football feels ‘easier than practice’ because of the fun and camaraderie is a powerful endorsement of Sitake’s approach. What this really suggests is that Sitake isn’t just building a football team—he’s creating an experience.
This raises another point: In a sport where burnout and pressure are rampant, Sitake’s program feels like a breath of fresh air. It’s not just about winning games; it’s about enjoying the journey. This isn’t corny—it’s smart. Players who love what they’re doing are more likely to perform at their best, and that’s a competitive advantage no NIL deal can buy.
The Broader Implications: Is Sitake the Future or a Relic?
What this really suggests is that Sitake’s approach could be a blueprint for programs that can’t—or won’t—compete in the NIL arms race. But it also raises questions about the sustainability of his model. Can a culture-first program consistently compete with the big spenders? Personally, I think the answer lies in the results. If Sitake continues to rack up 11- and 12-win seasons, his approach will be impossible to ignore.
One thing is clear: Sitake isn’t just protecting a program or a culture—he’s challenging the entire system. His success or failure will be a referendum on whether college football still has room for ideals like loyalty, development, and passion. In a sport increasingly driven by dollars and cents, Sitake is betting on something far more valuable: humanity.
Final Thoughts: The Sitake Way
If there’s one takeaway from Sitake’s story, it’s this: In a world obsessed with instant gratification, there’s still value in playing the long game. Sitake’s approach isn’t just about winning championships—it’s about building something that lasts. Whether he becomes the next LaVell Edwards or a footnote in Big 12 history remains to be seen. But one thing is certain: Kalani Sitake is doing it his way, and that’s something worth watching.
As I reflect on his journey, I can’t help but wonder: Are we witnessing the last stand of an old-school coach, or the beginning of a new movement? Only time will tell. But one thing is for sure—Kalani Sitake is not just protecting a program; he’s protecting an idea. And in today’s college football, that might be the boldest move of all.
