Kenny Larabee photo | KLIN
Tad Stryker: Big Red Cred
For someone who grew up in New York City, Matt Rhule seems to understand a lot about Nebraska football. To date, almost everything he’s done resonates strongly with the majority of the fan base.
Based on early returns, he passes the Bob Devaney test. Devaney was an outsider who captivated long-suffering Cornhusker fans with his wit and his determination to run the football effectively. It’s true that Rhule lacks Devaney’s charm, but he makes up for it with his honor, his work ethic and his obvious respect for Devaney’s successor, Tom Osborne.
Either that, or he’s doing a tremendous job faking a gut-level love for Husker football. Right now, it seems as visceral as the roar which thundered skyward on the September night in 2014 when Ameer Abdullah pounded Miami with a game-clinching fourth-quarter touchdown run, which is the last moment I recall Nebraska being a serious player on the national stage. Time will tell whether it’s authentic with Rhule.
From the moment he was hired, Rhule has been unequivocal about what’s needed to fix the program: physicality, discipline and a strong running game. So far, it’s given him cover while he meddles with something Nebraska fans hold dear: the offensive line.
With the possible exception of Wisconsin, it’s doubtful whether any collegiate fan base loves its offensive line as much as Husker Nation, which has been cursed by a string of coaches who proved utterly inept at managing one of the state’s greatest treasures. For crying out loud, we know what we’re looking for; after all, more than one-third of Nebraska’s 20 College Hall of Fame inductees are offensive linemen.
In less than six months, Rhule has convinced the vast majority of us that he appreciates the value of a hard-nosed offensive line and wants to restore that heritage in Lincoln. This is despite retaining Donovan Raiola as o-line coach, much to the surprise of almost every college football observer, including this one, who saw nothing but dysfunction in the way the Husker offensive front played the last few years. If Mike Cavanaugh or Greg Austin really knew more about coaching than some blowhard having lunch with his buddies at the Cozy Inn Cafe in Holdrege, you couldn’t tell by the results on the field. And then it got worse under Raiola, with NU’s rushing yards per game cratering and its pass protection proving hazardous to quarterback Casey Thompson’s health.
Rhule came into Lincoln and quickly declared that he had “not bought into the narrative” that the offensive line was the problem. Furthermore, he said, “We’re going to have a good offensive line this year.”
The man is seriously messing with the hearts of Husker Nation when he says stuff like that. The next thing you know, he’ll be touting Bryce Benhart as an NFL prospect.
Wait, Rhule just did that, too.
Right now, I can’t imagine NFL scouts flocking to Lincoln this fall to get a closer look at Benhart, but I may be wrong. If that scenario plays out under Marcus Satterfield, with Raiola back for his second year as o-line coach, we are about to witness the biggest turnaround of a Husker platoon since the Blackshirts were revived in 2003 under a brand-new defensive coordinator named Bo Pelini. Sure, there were at least three big defensive letdowns that year, but overall, most Husker fans I know would happily accept only three weak offensive performances in 2023 and feel doggone hopeful about it.
Results like that in Year One would indicate Rhule and his staff are indeed a close-knit bunch who check their egos at the door and collectively buy into an overarching concept, which currently seems too good to be true. This is what Rhule skeptics (certainly they’re out there, and they’re biding their time until September to speak out) will be watching closely. Some will pounce at the first sign of trouble, whenever it inevitably occurs.
For now, Rhule has already built enough equity to make major pronouncements to a fan base that still feels sheepish about some of the things Scott Frost said, and still get away with it. That’s because he and his staff are working harder than their predecessors and identifying more closely with people from Omaha to Ogallala. By those two standards alone, Rhule clearly separates himself from Bill Callahan, who came across as arrogant and condescending; from Mike Riley, who came across as loosey-goosey permissive grandfather; and even from Frost, who although he had credentials as a native son and experienced Osborne’s program at its apex as a player, was not disciplined enough as a coach to convert that knowledge into results on the field.
It’s going to be tougher for Rhule to win eight of 12 regular-season games this season than it was for Devaney to win eight of 10 in his maiden voyage six decades ago, simply because the Big Ten in 2023 is vastly superior to the Big Eight in 1962, but if it happens, he’ll have everyone’s ear.
