There was no feel, there was no connection between the coach and the fans.
In the high-stakes theater of college football, LSU athletic director Verge Ausberry has drawn a public line between two philosophies of leadership — one that kept the world at arm's length, and one that pulls it close. By endorsing Lane Kiffin and quietly dismantling Brian Kelly's legacy in Baton Rouge, Ausberry is making the case that in modern college football, relationships are not peripheral to winning — they are the foundation of it. The move is both a reckoning with the recent past and a wager on a future that has yet to prove itself.
- Ausberry's public rebuke of Kelly is unusually direct for a sitting athletic director, signaling that the wounds from that era run deeper than the program has previously acknowledged.
- Kelly's recruiting classes averaged a ranking of 8.75 under his watch — a measurable decline from Orgeron's 6.8 average — giving the criticism statistical teeth beyond mere personality grievance.
- Kiffin arrives trailing his own controversy from a Vanity Fair media storm, yet Ausberry stepped forward to defend him, spending political capital before a single game has been played.
- LSU's roster is now valued at roughly forty million dollars under Kiffin's NIL-forward approach, a figure that reflects a deliberate cultural shift in how the program courts money and talent.
- The AD's very public loyalty creates a double-edged dynamic — it emboldens Kiffin now, but raises the stakes for the next inevitable controversy in a career that has never been short of them.
LSU athletic director Verge Ausberry has made his position unmistakable: the Brian Kelly era failed not just on the field, but in the rooms where college football is actually built — among boosters, donors, and the fans who sustain a program's ambitions. In a conversation with USA Today, Ausberry described a coach who kept people at arm's length, who resisted the relational work that major programs depend on. "There was no feel, there was no connection between the LSU football program, the coach, and the fans," he said.
The numbers give the critique its edge. Under Ed Orgeron, LSU's recruiting classes averaged a national ranking of 6.8. Under Kelly, that figure slipped to 8.75 — and the trajectory worsened each year, save for his first class, which was largely inherited. At the SEC level, where marginal talent differences compound over seasons, that gap is not trivial. Ausberry's argument is that Kelly's inability to connect with the donor network made the recruiting problem worse: boosters don't write checks for coaches they can't reach.
Lane Kiffin steps into this context with a contrasting reputation. He built Ole Miss's NIL infrastructure into something formidable, and early indicators suggest LSU's roster is now valued at roughly forty million dollars. Ausberry has framed Kiffin's approach as a return to the Saban model — a coach who engages the machinery of modern college football rather than tolerating it from a distance.
The endorsement is also a calculated signal. By publicly backing Kiffin and publicly indicting Kelly, Ausberry is telling the program's financial base that it has been heard. But the move carries its own risk: Ausberry has already spent political capital on a coach with a history of controversy. When the next storm arrives — and with Kiffin, it will — the athletic director will be expected to step forward again, with less in reserve.
LSU's athletic director Verge Ausberry has made his choice clear, and it comes at the expense of his predecessor's coach. In a conversation with USA Today, Ausberry dismantled Brian Kelly's tenure at Baton Rouge with surgical precision, arguing that the program had suffered from a fundamental disconnect between its head coach and the people who actually fund and support it.
The timing is pointed. Lane Kiffin, Kelly's replacement, had just weathered a media storm following comments in Vanity Fair, but Ausberry stepped forward to defend him—and in doing so, to indict the man who came before. Ausberry framed the shift as a return to what he called the Saban model: a coach who doesn't just manage the team but actively engages with alumni, boosters, and the machinery of modern college football fundraising and name-image-likeness deals.
Without naming Kelly directly, Ausberry's meaning was unmistakable. He described a coach who kept people at arm's length, who didn't want to be contacted, who resisted the relational work that sustains a major program. "That's why we got what we got," Ausberry said. "There was no feel, there was no connection between the LSU football program, the coach, and the fans." Kiffin, by contrast, would be the opposite—someone willing to hand out his cell number, to ask for help, to treat donors as partners rather than obstacles.
The criticism gains weight when you look at the numbers. Under Ed Orgeron, Kelly's immediate predecessor, LSU's recruiting classes averaged a ranking of 6.8 according to 247Sports. Kelly's classes, by comparison, averaged 8.75—a meaningful gap at the highest level of college football, where marginal differences in talent compound over time. More damning, Kelly's classes deteriorated each year except his first, which was essentially inherited from Orgeron and assembled in a matter of weeks. LSU has the resources and the tradition to attract elite talent. That it didn't under Kelly suggests something systemic was broken.
The connection Ausberry is drawing is straightforward: in modern college football, especially in the SEC, money moves the needle. Boosters and donors don't write checks for coaches they dislike or can't relate to. Kelly, who has never been known as a particularly warm or accessible figure, apparently struggled to build those relationships. If he also wasn't a natural recruiter—and his track record suggests he wasn't—then he was doubly handicapped. He needed the donor network to lean in harder, not to pull back.
Kiffin arrives with a different reputation. He built Ole Miss's NIL operation into something formidable, and early reports suggest LSU's roster is now valued at roughly forty million dollars. Whether that translates to wins remains the open question. The honeymoon phase is still in effect in Baton Rouge, and Kiffin will need to deliver results quickly to justify the faith Ausberry is publicly placing in him. Some of that faith may prove misplaced—Rebels fans on social media have painted a less flattering picture of Kiffin's tenure, though that could just be sour grapes.
What's clear is that Ausberry has made a calculated bet. By publicly backing Kiffin and publicly criticizing Kelly, he's signaling to boosters and donors that the program has heard them, that it understands what went wrong, and that it's committed to a different path. It's also a warning to Kiffin: the AD has already spent political capital on him. The next time Kiffin finds himself at the center of controversy—and given his history, there will be a next time—Ausberry will be expected to do this again.
Citações Notáveis
He'll go out there and have that conversation with the donors and the people who support the program and say, 'We need your help,' and give them his cell number.— Verge Ausberry, LSU athletic director, describing Kiffin's approach to donor relations
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why did Ausberry feel the need to go public with this criticism of Kelly now, rather than letting it fade quietly?
Because silence reads as acceptance. If the new AD doesn't explicitly break with the old regime, boosters and donors might think nothing has actually changed. Ausberry needed to signal that he heard their complaints and that he's steering the ship in a different direction.
But couldn't that backfire? Doesn't it make Kelly look bad in a way that reflects poorly on LSU itself?
Possibly. But Kelly's already gone. The damage to his reputation is secondary to the damage to the program if Ausberry doesn't rebuild trust with the people writing the checks. That's the calculus.
The recruiting numbers are striking—8.75 versus 6.8. Is that gap really all about Kelly's personality, though?
It's probably not all personality, but personality matters more in college football than people admit. You can be a great coach and still lose recruits if donors won't help you close. Kelly needed that help and didn't get it, partly because he didn't ask for it.
So Kiffin's strength is that he will ask?
Exactly. He'll treat it as a partnership, not a burden. He'll give out his cell number. That's the opposite of Kelly's approach, and Ausberry is betting it makes a measurable difference.
What happens if Kiffin doesn't win?
Then Ausberry will have spent a lot of credibility defending him. But that's a problem for later. Right now, the AD is trying to stabilize the program and rebuild relationships. Winning would certainly help, but the relationship-building has to happen first.