(LEXINGTON, Ky.) – Funny how one Saturday can change the entire temperature of the Bluegrass. Just a week ago, half of Big Blue Nation was ready to pack Mark Stoops’ bags for him. With Kentucky’s huge 38-7 victory over Florida on Saturday night, the path to bowl eligibility now becomes a whole lot clearer. Suddenly, the same folks who wanted Stoops’ head on a platter are out shopping for “In Stoops We Trust” T-shirts.
That’s life in the SEC—one minute you’re an overpaid underachiever, the next you’re the savior of the Commonwealth. But whether you were cheering Stoops before Florida or rediscovering your faith afterward, one thing remains constant: the man deserves to stay. Not because of one big win, but because of the foundation he’s built and the culture he’s created.
Let’s face it, the honeymoon was long over before tonight. The flowers had wilted, the champagne went flat, and the marriage between Mark Stoops and Big Blue Nation felt more like a 25-year-old couch—no longer comfortable, visibly soiled, and sagging in all the wrong places.
Everywhere you turned, folks were hollering for divorce. Social media was ablaze with “Fire Stoops” hashtags. Radio hosts were frothing at the mouth and ready to kick him to the curb and swipe right on someone—anyone—new.
Well, not anymore, my friend. Before we stick that “For Sale” sign in Stoops’ front yard, let’s take a deep breath, pour ourselves a glass of Kentucky bourbon, and think this through with a little perspective—and a dash of sanity.
For one, let’s talk dollars and sense. That buyout? Thirty-seven. Million. Dollars. That’s not a typo. That’s not Monopoly money. That kind of cash could fund an entire NIL war chest and keep Cutter Boley grinning for the next couple of years.
And let’s not forget history. Mark Stoops is the winningest coach in Kentucky football history. Think about that. More wins than Bear Bryant during his Kentucky days. More wins than Fran Curci, Jerry Claiborne, or Rich Brooks combined (well, close enough for rhetorical effect). Sure, some of those wins came against glorified high schools disguised as non-conference opponents, but they still count in the record book—and on the paycheck.
People forget how bleak it was before Stoops. Joker Phillips limped out the door with the fanbase howling. The program was a punchline, a perennial cellar dweller where bowl games were as rare as John Calipari NCAA wins post Covid. Stoops changed that. He brought stability. He brought hope. He brought swagger. And yes, he even brought us a ten-win season—twice! That’s not stale; that’s historic.
Now, I get it. Things felt stagnant the past couple of years. The offense sputtered forever, the defense gave up too many big plays, and the postgame pressers all sounded like reruns of Groundhog Day. Stoops kept saying, “We’ll clean it up; get back to work.” But it started feeling like the same spilled milk being mopped up year after year.
But let me ask the question that haunts every program stuck in the “fire him” cycle: Who you gonna get that’s better?
Seriously. Who?
Nick Saban’s busy counting his retirement checks. Kirby Smart’s not walking through that door. Urban Meyer? Please—he couldn’t even handle Jacksonville. And as much as people want to throw out names like Jon Sumrall or Will Stein, let’s pump the brakes. Sumrall’s a fine coach, but running Tulane isn’t the same as running an SEC program with boosters, egos, and ESPN cameras breathing down your neck. And Will Stein? He’s got promise, sure—but he’s barely had time to unpack at Oregon. Handing him the keys to Kentucky football right now would be like giving a 16-year-old your trusted Mercedes and hoping for the best.
Coaching transitions are messy. You could just as easily end up with the next hot coordinator who flames out in two seasons, leaving us all longing for the good ol’ days when Stoops at least got us to the Music City Bowl.
And here’s something people overlook: his players still believe in him. They play hard. They don’t quit. Even when the scoreboard turns ugly, they fight to the end. That’s not nothing. That’s culture—culture that Mark Stoops built brick by brick. You can’t fake that, and you certainly can’t buy it with NIL money. Remember when Kentucky teams used to fold faster than a lawn chair at a tailgate? Not anymore. This group—his group—competes, cares, and represents the program with pride. They don’t flinch. That’s his real legacy.
What Stoops provides—whether fans admit it or not—is stability. And in the volatile world of college football, stability is the rarest commodity. It’s not sexy. It’s not flashy. But it’s the bedrock on which long-term success is built. Programs like Iowa, Wisconsin, and Kansas State built entire identities on stability. They don’t panic after a bad season. They reload, recalibrate, and keep grinding.
And that’s what Stoops does best. He grinds. He builds men, not just football players. He develops two-star recruits into NFL draft picks. He preaches accountability, loyalty, and hard work. Those aren’t buzzwords; they’re virtues—spiritual ones, even.
Maybe that’s what this whole debate boils down to. We’ve lost our patience in a world of instant gratification. We want quick fixes, shiny new toys, and miracle seasons. But life—like faith—isn’t about the quick fix. It’s about perseverance through the dry spells. It’s about trust.
The Bible says in Galatians 6:9, “Let us not grow weary in doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.” That’s not just good theology—it’s good football philosophy. Stoops has been sowing seeds in rocky soil for over a decade. He’s weathered storms, endured heartbreaks, and still kept this program relevant. That’s not a man you throw away. That’s a man you stand by.
So before you call the moving truck, Big Blue Nation, remember: the grass isn’t always bluer on the other side. Sometimes, the real victory is learning to bloom where you’re planted.
And if you don’t like that spiritual analogy, fine—think of it this way: $37 million buys a lot of forgiveness.
This article was originally written for distribution through Nolan Group Media publications.
Dr. John Huang is a retired orthodontist, military veteran, and award-winning author. Currently serving as a columnist for Nolan Group Media, he invites readers to follow him on social media @KYHuangs. Explore his latest, “Whining For Posterity,” and all his books at https://www.Amazon.com/stores/Dr.-John-Huang/author/B092RKJBRD


