Dear Les:
You have no idea who I am, so allow me to introduce myself. I’m the 22-year-old, bespectacled columnist with graying hair who occasionally dropped in to your news conferences throughout the semester.
I never asked a question because I was warned you might haze me, the rookie reporter.
After watching all the events unfold Saturday night, I wish I had spoken up. Heck, I wish I had asked a dumb question so I could be partially responsible for one of your famous sound bites because you’re everything the football coach of a major university should be.
Growing up, you made my college football experience so much richer than it would’ve been without you, and I can’t thank you enough.
I was born and raised in Ruston, Louisiana, but I normally spent my Saturdays watching the Tigers on TV with my dad, an LSU alumnus. Most of my friends would make the short trip to Joe Aillet Stadium to watch Louisiana Tech University, but you always made staying home worthwhile.
I remember being dumbfounded during the 2007 LSU-Florida game. Every time fourth-down came up as the clock dwindled in the fourth quarter, the offense remained on the field and moved the chains. And each time my jaw found its new home — on the floor of my friend Scott’s house.
I quickly grew to love everything about “The Mad Hatter.”
Having a holder flip the ball over his head without looking to the sprinting placekicker? Only you, Les.
When it looks like you’re flying by the seat of your pants is when I feel like you are fully in control.
You constantly remind me that football is a game that should be cherished. Wins and losses are great and important, but you make sure I always enjoy the game I’m watching. It’s why I’ve loved watching you coach so much.
For that you should be commended.
When rumors of your demise began to swirl — although they may have been greatly exaggerated — you responded with class.
When the noise reached its loudest point, your focus went up to its highest notch. Saturday night’s win wasn’t exactly beautiful, but it confirmed what I already knew: There is no man on this planet better for the LSU head coaching job than you.
In terms of the actual game, it was a punishing ground game with just enough variety to get it done. Maybe the offense needs a tweak or two next season, but I think you’ve proven you’re more than capable of coaching a victorious team throughout the last 11 seasons.
It wasn’t even about the Xs and Os, though. It was you tipping your hat to the crowd as it chanted “We want Les,” a crowd that made it clear who it wanted to be LSU’s head coach next fall.
It’s how fired up you got when LSU scored the touchdown to put it away. Your passion was on full display just like it always is.
It’s how much your players love you.
I don’t know if you even got to finish talking to Texas A&M coach Kevin Sumlin before the Tigers hoisted you on their shoulders, which you later likened to riding an elephant, and carried you to the student section.
When you arrived, you put off your postgame interview to belt out the best rendition of LSU’s alma mater I’ve ever heard.
When I saw the video of you dabbing in the locker room, I thought to myself, “I wish I would’ve been slightly athletic, so I could’ve played for you.”
You’re a winner on the field and off it. You’re a good coach, but you come across as an even better guy. You have a larger-than-life personality, and it fits perfectly in Baton Rouge.
LSU is better because of you, Les. It’s been a hell of a run, and I’m thankful to have witnessed it all.
My time as a columnist is quickly coming to an end, and my graduation is soon approaching. I really do hope our paths cross in the future.
But until then, keep converting fourth downs, faking punts and eating blades of grass.
Never change, Les. You are LSU football.
Jack Woods is a 22-year-old mass communication senior from Ruston, Louisiana. You can reach him on Twitter @Jack_TDR.