SI article on impact of coaches' reactions to protests on recruiting; plus odd Michigan recruiting story from 1991

The article (LINK) focuses on IMG's Tyler Booker, the 247 Composite No. 1 Offensive Tackle for 2022. It's not surprising that the protests triggered by the George Floyd murder would impact many of the nation's young athletes, but an interesting read nonetheless for some confirmation that many of us who assumed it would make at least some difference to recruiting if coaches publicly stated support (as Harbaugh did, but fyi, Michigan not on Booker's list).

Some of the coaches he spoke to were honest with him, acknowledging what’s happening in America right now—the protests against decades of systemic racism—while others seemed to avoid the topic. But Booker also said he was tracking the way coaches engaged and responded more publicly, on Twitter, in the form of personal statements. Since he’s not able to visit prospective campuses because of the coronavirus, many of his early impressions of coaches and their programs have come from social media—namely, the way they responded to George Floyd’s death.

“I noticed which coaches came out and said something [early on]. … I made a mental note of that,” Booker told his coach. “I also made a mental note of the coaches who were late and seemed like their hand was forced to post something.”

The article also discusses the offensive line coach at IMG, George Hegamin, a 7-year NFL vet who went to NC State and ended up a 3rd round NFL draft pick in 1994:

In 1991, he was a top high school defensive line recruit headed to—everyone assumed—the University of Michigan, which was coming off three consecutive top-10 seasons. But in the winter of his senior year he surprisingly picked a school that hadn’t finished in the top 10 in more than 15 years.

College football fans were shocked. While the Wolverines were fighting for national titles [*sigh*-Ed.], the Wolfpack was fighting for relevance in the ACC.

When people asked Hegamin later why he’d chosen Raleigh over Ann Arbor, he told them it was a comfort thing. But it was more than that. He thought back to the day during his senior year when he arrived at the home he shared with his mother and grandmother, and found Buddy Green, a white coach, asleep on their couch—shoes at the door, legs kicked up, head knocked back. Hegamin looked at his grandmother in shock, but he remembers her telling him: “There are very few times that I have felt this comfortable around any white man, let alone a white man in my house.”

There was an openness, Hegamin says, in the way Green spoke about race and racism from the beginning of their relationship. The coach didn’t shy away from conversations that others seemed to find uncomfortable.

Not one single time did he hide away from the differences that made him white and me Black,” says Hegamin. “When I think about the kids I coach, and I see the disconnect between them and the men recruiting them, it scares me.”

I would not have guessed that the ol' Put-Your-Feet-Up-And-Fall-Asleep-On-The-Couch routine would be effective. There could have also been a bag of cash on the couch for all we know, but there is still something to be said for just connecting as people and either not being phony about it or skilled at acting.