Letter from the Publisher

To those who subscribe to the theory of "primacy and recency," it is what you do either first or last that matters the most. This hotly-debated field of behavioral study focuses on which areas of persuasion influence people more than others. I certainly do not have a Ph.D., but after publishing this magazine for over eight years, I know that with coaches it is what they do last that matters most. Clearly, this is no different than society as whole and its "what have you done for me lately" attitude. Yet, I find it more than troublesome when fans, university or school officials, and the media overlook the entire body of a person's work and simply scrutinize the last few months of a career.

One recent example of this carnivorous frenzy came after the forced resignation of University of Kentucky head coach Hal Mumme. First, I am fully aware of the numerous problems that existed in Lexington and the potential NCAA sanctions that are forthcoming. Also, I agree with others that coach Mumme did not properly monitor the actions of at least one renegade assistant who had no regard for rules or proper conduct. However, to now treat Hal Mumme as if he were Satan incarnate or an ill-prepared small-time coach who couldn't cut it in the big show, is revisionist history at best, and, at worst, mean-spirited second-guessing by journalists, who never put on a jock strap in their life.

Hal Mumme is a good man. He exercised poor judgment. But, there is a wide chasm between a person's character and his judgment. Did Hal Mumme make mistakes? Yes. Did he exercise poor judgment? Yes. Did he deserve to be forced from his dream job? Probably.

Yet, was he good for the Kentucky football program? Let's let the records speak for themselves: for only the third time in the 110-year history of Kentucky football, he led the team to back-to-back bowls; in 1997, he beat Alabama for the first time in 75 years; single game and season ticket sales reached unheard of highs and Commonwealth Stadium had to be expanded to meet the demand; the "air-raid" offense set over 100 NCAA, SEC and school records; UK produced numerous all-Americans, including the number one NFL 1998 draft pick (Tim Couch); Mumme earned coach of the year honors in 1997, 1998 and 1999, and, perhaps most importantly, his high-powered offense was the talk of the nation and helped attract a level of athletes to UK that were unimagined by former coaching staffs. Few would argue that the UK football program ever had more excitement and enthusiasm.

Hal Mumme was asked to resign not because of what happened on the field, but because of what he failed to control off of it. Yet, he is hardly deserving of the vitriolic and hateful articles and commentaries that appeared in any number of magazines or Web sites after his resignation. He was castigated for being everything from arrogant to Jethro Bodine. He is neither.

The facts are clear. He had no direct involvement in any of the culpable acts or wrongdoings. Not one shred of evidence indicates he had any knowledge of the nefarious acts of his unscrupulous assistants. Hal Mumme was guilty of poor judgment and lousy staff management. And, I repeat, he may have deserved to be effectively fired for these transgressions, but the end of his tenure shouldn't be the standard for measuring him. Woody Hayes is not remembered just for punching an opposing player in his last game, nor is Bobby Knight's legacy purely his penchant for chair-throwing or for grabbing a disrespectful undergrad. Neither should Hal Mumme be remembered by the words of pot-bellied know-it-alls who were riding shotgun on the UK bandwagon a mere 12 months ago.

When he was hired, I was happy for Hal Mumme and the hundreds of deserving lower level coaches deserve a shot at a Division I-A job. I hope that the end of his reign in Lexington does not diminish the chances for others. It shouldn't. Hal Mumme is not another Gerry Faust, and my bet is some AD somewhere is going to catch lightning in a bottle and give him another chance. And Mumme will make the most of it.

Sincerely,

Barry Terranova