
Why Ryan Day Channeling the Relentless Intensity of Nick Saban and Kirby Smart Should Terrify the Rest of College Football
Ryan Day has always been a good football coach. But now, he’s showing signs of becoming something far more dangerous: a great one, and not just by the usual metrics of wins and losses. With each season, it’s becoming increasingly evident that Day is reshaping his approach to mirror the ruthlessly effective methods of two of college football’s modern dynasties—Nick Saban’s Alabama and Kirby Smart’s Georgia. That shift should send a ripple of unease across the college football landscape, because if Ryan Day is evolving into a hybrid of Saban and Smart, the sport is on the brink of a new, terrifying chapter.
Since taking over at Ohio State, Day has enjoyed considerable success—multiple Big Ten titles, College Football Playoff appearances, and elite recruiting classes. But there’s always been a lingering sense that Day was a step behind the very best, particularly when it came to the biggest games against the biggest programs. His teams have occasionally been outmuscled, outcoached, or simply out-toughed. While he developed a reputation for explosive offenses and quarterback play, the defensive side of the ball and overall physical identity sometimes lagged behind.
That’s no longer the case. Over the past 12 months, Ryan Day has taken a hard look in the mirror. And what he’s seeing now is not the brilliant play-caller or offensive wizard that brought Ohio State to the Playoff in 2019, but rather a figure more obsessed with the kind of details that define dynasties—culture, depth, physicality, toughness, and relentless focus. In other words, he’s beginning to channel Nick Saban and Kirby Smart.
Let’s start with the offseason overhaul. Day didn’t just make tweaks—he made bold, calculated moves that echoed the relentless pursuit of perfection you’d expect from Saban or Smart. He brought in Chip Kelly to coordinate the offense, ceding play-calling duties and essentially admitting that for Ohio State to take the next step, he had to take a step back. That’s the kind of ego-free decision that defines leaders like Saban, who has repeatedly reinvented his program by hiring top assistants and adapting to the game’s evolution, even when it meant abandoning the very style of football that made him a legend.
Similarly, Day has doubled down on the defensive identity of his team. Under Jim Knowles, Ohio State’s defense has grown in both complexity and aggression, but it’s Day’s commitment to building a Georgia-style depth chart—two-deep at every position, with waves of future NFL players—that really signals a change in philosophy. It’s the Smart blueprint: win games in the trenches, dominate physically, rotate talent, and ensure that the drop-off from the first to second unit is almost imperceptible.
This new version of Ryan Day isn’t just focused on scoring points—he’s focused on crushing opponents systematically. And he’s building his roster accordingly. Ohio State’s 2024 and 2025 recruiting hauls suggest a program trending toward SEC levels of talent, particularly in the trenches and on defense. The Buckeyes aren’t just getting elite athletes anymore—they’re getting elite competitors, kids who could plug into Alabama or Georgia without missing a beat. That wasn’t always the case in Columbus. For all the five-star receivers and quarterbacks Ohio State has developed, the recent losses to Michigan, and their failure to win national titles under Day, often came down to being less physical in key moments.
But that vulnerability seems to be vanishing. The Buckeyes are now being constructed like an SEC juggernaut. Day’s emphasis on player development, internal competition, and strategic depth is beginning to bear the marks of programs that have dominated college football for the past decade. Ohio State isn’t trying to outscore you anymore—they’re trying to break you.
Moreover, Day’s demeanor has changed. Gone is the play-caller obsessed with finesse and timing. In his place is a coach who’s embraced the pressure, leaned into criticism, and responded with an edge. His approach to leadership is maturing. Like Saban and Smart, Day has stopped trying to win with style points and started trying to win with culture. He’s holding players to higher standards, demanding physical and mental toughness, and preaching accountability in every facet of the program. In doing so, he’s taking on the characteristics of coaches who don’t just win—they dominate.
It’s not just internal development either. Day is working the transfer portal with the same cold precision that Saban and Smart have mastered. When holes exist, he fills them. When talent is needed, he goes and gets it. There’s no longer a sense of waiting on development or hoping for growth. Day is proactively building his roster with an eye toward championship contention—not years down the line, but right now. That mindset, one of urgency and immediacy, has been a hallmark of Saban’s dynasty in Tuscaloosa and Smart’s recent reign in Athens.
The truly frightening thing for the rest of college football is that Ohio State has always been on the cusp of this transformation. The infrastructure has been in place for years—elite facilities, national brand, deep donor support, fertile recruiting ground, and a football tradition that rivals any in America. But it took a mindset shift to fully unlock that potential. Ryan Day’s transition from offensive guru to CEO-style head coach, in the mold of Saban and Smart, is the catalyst that could make Ohio State not just a contender but a dynasty.
Consider what happened at Georgia under Kirby Smart. He inherited a proud program that had flirted with greatness but never quite reached the pinnacle. Smart, having studied under Saban, imported the “Process”—a culture of daily excellence, relentless competition, and an obsession with recruiting and development. The result? Back-to-back national titles and a team that not only wins but breaks opponents mentally and physically. Day has taken notes, and the application is starting to show.
This shift doesn’t guarantee a national championship for Ohio State in 2025 or even 2026. But it does suggest that the Buckeyes are more equipped than they’ve ever been under Day to win one. They have a head coach who is no longer content with just being in the conversation. He wants to win it all—and he’s willing to adapt, evolve, and compete like the two men who have defined the last 15 years of college football.
Day has always had the intelligence and football IQ to lead a program like Ohio State. What he’s now showing is the edge and competitive paranoia that turns great coaches into legends. When you pair that with one of the deepest rosters in the country, a clear shift in physical identity, and an off-field infrastructure committed to national titles, you have a recipe for something lethal.
The rest of college football should be worried. Because if Ryan Day has indeed figured it out—if he’s truly embraced the Saban-Smart blueprint while adding his own offensive ingenuity—then the Buckeyes aren’t just back. They’re about to become a machine.
And machines don’t just beat you. They crush you, over and over, until there’s no doubt who runs the sport. If Ryan Day continues on this path, Ohio State might be next in line to rule college football—not for a season, but for a generation.