Why I'm Still With Dabo

Why I'm Still With Dabo

I decided Dabo Swinney might be the guy before he ever won a game at Clemson.

And strangely enough, it was because of a punter.

I was sitting in Death Valley for the Georgia Tech game in 2008, Dabo's first game as Clemson's interim head coach. Nobody knew what we had yet. This was a 38-year-old wide receivers coach who had never even been a coordinator, suddenly running Clemson football.

At one point, our punter came jogging off the field.

Dabo saw him.

And Dabo lost it.

What I remember is him chasing the kid down, making him go back and then come off the field the right way — running. The message couldn't have been clearer.

We don't jog around here.

We do everything at 100 percent.

I remember looking at the season-ticket holders around me and saying, "I think we've got ourselves a ball coach."

I'm pretty sure they thought I was crazy.

Clemson lost that game 21-17.

But I left Death Valley believing we'd found our coach.

Eighteen years later, I still do.

That's why I'm not ready to throw Dabo Swinney overboard because Clemson football has hit rough water.

And before somebody accuses me of wearing orange-colored glasses, let me be clear about something:

There Are Problems

Going 7-6 last season wasn't good enough.

Getting embarrassed 51-10 by LSU wasn't remotely good enough.

And questioning whether Dabo has adapted quickly enough to the transfer portal, NIL and the completely different way rosters are built today is absolutely fair.

A long leash doesn't mean a lifetime exemption from criticism.

Dabo has to evolve.

But I also think he's earned the opportunity to do it.

Because when I look at Dabo Swinney's legacy at Clemson, I don't just see trophies.

I see what he built around them.

Clemson football's recent graduation numbers have consistently ranked among the best in the country, and hundreds of players have earned Clemson degrees during the Swinney era.

Those aren't slogans on a wall.

Those are diplomas.

And that matters to me.

Dabo has always talked about developing the person, not just developing the football player. He's talked openly about his faith. He's talked about graduating players, becoming husbands and fathers, building careers and preparing them for the part of life that starts when nobody cares how fast they ran the 40.

You can think that's corny.

I don't.

I'm proud of it.

And I'm proud that Clemson has been able to win at the highest level without becoming a program whose identity is defined by some massive scandal.

Has everything been perfect?

Of course not.

No program operating for nearly two decades is spotless, and Clemson has had controversies and minor issues along the way.

But I don't need Dabo to be perfect to respect what he's built.

And Then There Is the Football

Sometimes I think Clemson fans need to say the numbers out loud again just to remember how absurd this run really was.

Before Dabo, Clemson hadn't won the ACC since 1991.

He ended that drought in 2011.

Then he won eight more.

Nine ACC championships.

Before Dabo, Clemson hadn't won a national championship since 1981.

Thirty-five years.

He ended that drought in 2016.

Then he won another one two years later.

Clemson played for the national championship four times in five seasons and won two of them.

For a while, there were two programs sitting at the top of college football.

Alabama.

And Clemson.

Think about that for a second.

Not Georgia.

Not Ohio State.

Not Texas.

Not USC.

Clemson.

The little school in South Carolina with the rock and the hill was standing toe-to-toe with Nick Saban's Alabama dynasty, and Dabo Swinney put it there.

He didn't inherit that Clemson.

He built it.

That's why I'm willing to give him something college football doesn't hand out very often anymore.

Time.

We've Seen What Patience Can Do Before

And we've seen why patience can matter with Dabo before.

His first full season in 2009 ended 9-5.

Then came 2010.

Six wins.

Seven losses.

A losing season at Clemson.

Imagine social media today if Dabo Swinney went 6-7 in Year 2.

People would have tracked the athletic director's plane before the bowl game was over.

But Clemson didn't fire him.

A year later, Clemson won its first ACC championship in twenty years.

That doesn't mean history is guaranteed to repeat itself.

It doesn't mean 2026 is secretly 2010 and another dynasty is around the corner.

And it definitely doesn't mean Dabo gets to point at the trophies forever while the rest of college football passes him by.

Grace is not the same thing as immunity.

If his approach to roster building isn't working anymore, he has to change it.

If Clemson needs to be more aggressive in the portal, be more aggressive.

If the offense needs to change, change it.

If the staff needs fresh ideas, find them.

The standard Dabo created should apply to Dabo, too.

I Still Think Dabo Swinney Is One Hell of a Football Coach

But here's another part of this that I don't want to get lost in all the talk about what Dabo used to be:

I still think Dabo Swinney is one hell of a football coach.

Not was.

Is.

I don't believe all those years of knowing how to build a team, motivate players, develop leaders and win football games just disappeared because the sport changed around him.

Maybe he has been stubborn.

Maybe he has been too slow to adapt.

Maybe some of the things that helped make Clemson great ten years ago don't work the same way anymore.

All of that can be true.

But being behind the curve and being incapable of coaching are two very different things.

I think Dabo can still coach.

The question is whether he's willing to make the changes necessary to let that coach succeed in the version of college football that exists today.

And maybe that's why I keep thinking about that punter in 2008.

Dabo's message that afternoon was simple.

We don't jog around here.

We run.

For the first time in a long time, I think Clemson has to ask whether college football started sprinting while we were still jogging.

The portal changed.

NIL changed.

Roster construction changed.

The entire sport changed.

And Dabo hasn't always changed with it fast enough.

That's fair criticism.

But if there's one man in college football who has earned the chance to prove he can get Clemson running again, I think it's the man who taught the program to run in the first place.

So Yes, I'm Still With Dabo

Not because of nostalgia.

Not because two national championships mean Clemson should accept mediocrity forever.

And not because I think he's above criticism.

I'm still with him because I watched him build the standard that we're now using to judge him.

And because, after all of it, I still believe the man can coach football.

That has to count for something.

How much longer?

I don't know.

Football eventually answers those questions for you.

But after eighteen years, nine ACC championships, two national championships and a generation of Clemson players who left with degrees, I think Dabo Swinney has earned more than our gratitude.

He's earned a chance to prove he can do it again.

And if he does?

Maybe the craziest thing I said that afternoon in 2008 wasn't crazy at all.

Maybe we really did get ourselves one hell of a ball coach.