Losing the Locker Room
The Urban Meyer situation in Jacksonville keeps getting funnier. As soon as he was hired, back in January, there was a sense that it would end in disaster—college football coaches generally have trouble adjusting to the NFL, and Meyer specifically, for all his success, has a history of leaving teams in disarray and disgrace. There were immediate red flags around the hiring, with Meyer’s attempt to hire Chris Doyle, who had been let go from the University of Iowa for racist comments and abusive treatment of players. Then Meyer signed Tim Tebow to be a tight end (before quickly waiving him in August), alienated players by taking the preseason too seriously, and generally not understanding that he is no longer coaching a college team—something he still seems to be struggling with:

Last week, a controversy that started over a leaked video of him drunkenly grinding on some girl at a bar in Ohio morphed into a story about him not flying back from an away game with his team, and then possibly lying about when he decided to do that. When he apologized to the team, players reportedly laughed at him. He has, it would seem, lost the locker room.
“Losing the locker room” is one of those sports clichés that contain multitudes. All happy locker rooms are alike, but every unhappy one gets lost in its own way. Sometimes a coach loses the locker room by being too lenient, encouraging misbehavior and disrespect; sometimes a coach loses the locker room by being too much a disciplinarian, inspiring resentment and dissatisfaction among the players. Sometimes a coach is too deferential to his stars, making other players feel like he’s playing favorites; sometimes a coach is too critical of his stars, making players feel like his not loyal or respectful of their work. Sometimes a coach is too aloof from his players, and they can’t relate to him; sometimes a coach is too familiar with his players, and they can’t respect him.
The only thing everyone seems to agree on is that losing the locker room is really bad. Once lost, it’s almost impossible to get back.
What I would like to suggest is that “losing the locker room” is best thought of as a kind of accidental labor action. Really, it’s a natural response to the problem I wrote about when Meyer first tried to hire Doyle: people do not get to choose their own boss.
Since players get little to no say in choosing who their coach is, and since they cannot be openly insubordinate for fear of jeopardizing their careers, the only way they can register their displeasure is through these passive aggressive acts of subterfuge: contradicting your coach in the press, awkward body language on the sidelines, and petty little rebellions that look silly on the surface.
All of this is very stupid, and maybe the stupidest thing about it is that the only thing left now is to wait for Jaguars owner Shad Khan to recognize and admit that hiring Meyer was a mistake and concede that paying whatever ridiculous amount a buyout will cost is actually less expensive than suffering through more of Urban Meyer as the coach. (I suppose some might argue that Meyer will eventually figure out the NFL, make necessary adjustments, and turn the Jaguars around… but come on.)
It doesn’t have to be this way! Granting labor a say in the conditions of their work—their boss, in this case—is often thought of as a kind of naïve act of charity to workers. And it’s true that the primary reason to do it IS justice for workers. But a situation like the one in Jacksonville shows that it is in the interest of the TEAM ITSELF that the players like and respect their coach. And the way to ensure that is to give players a role in the hiring process.