Kirk Ferentz Opens Up on Coaching Longevity, Compares Philosophy to Nick Saban’s Unexpected Retirement and Their Different Exit Strategies
In the wake of Nick Saban’s stunning retirement from college football, Iowa head coach Kirk Ferentz has offered a rare, thoughtful look at the contrasting ways two of the sport’s longest-tenured leaders have approached the end of their coaching journeys. Speaking candidly during Big Ten Media Days, Ferentz reflected not only on Saban’s decision to step down after a legendary run at Alabama but also on how his own career arc, personal motivations, and long-term vision differ from the seven-time national champion’s.
Ferentz, who enters his 26th season at the helm of the Iowa Hawkeyes, is now the longest-serving head coach in college football. While Saban walked away at 72, Ferentz, now 69, made it clear that he sees no immediate end in sight. That contrast — between Saban’s decisive exit and Ferentz’s steady, open-ended commitment — has sparked discussions among fans, analysts, and fellow coaches about how personal philosophy, program culture, and even family considerations shape the end of a coaching career.
“I have great respect for Coach Saban — always have,” Ferentz said when asked about the timing of his eventual retirement. “He went out on top, did it his way, and he’s earned that. But I’ve never thought about coaching as something with a set endpoint. For me, it’s about the people, the relationships, and whether I still feel like I’m making a difference.”
That mindset stands in stark contrast to Saban, who cited burnout, changing dynamics in college football, and a desire to “get out before resentment set in” as core reasons behind his retirement announcement earlier this year. Saban’s final seasons were still filled with success — SEC titles, College Football Playoff appearances, and national championship contention — but he acknowledged that the joy of coaching was beginning to erode under the weight of constant roster turnover, NIL pressures, and portal volatility.
Ferentz, by comparison, has embraced the slow grind of stability. Despite heavy criticism of Iowa’s offensive struggles in recent seasons, especially under the direction of his son and former offensive coordinator Brian Ferentz, the elder Ferentz has remained unwavering in his belief that continuity and loyalty matter more than instant results. That, he admits, has made his journey less glamorous than Saban’s, but perhaps more grounded.
“Everybody’s situation is different,” Ferentz said. “Coach Saban had to manage a machine — national titles, five-star players, the entire college football world revolving around Alabama. That’s a heavy lift. My world is a little different. I’m in a place where we value development, where we’re OK with building things brick by brick. That keeps me going.”
Indeed, while Saban was often under pressure to reload with blue-chip talent annually, Ferentz has made a career of turning overlooked recruits into All-Big Ten performers and NFL draft picks. That slower, more developmental model has both insulated him from the relentless churn of high-stakes recruiting and allowed him to build long-term bonds with players and staff — something he says keeps the job emotionally fulfilling.
But Ferentz isn’t blind to the shifting landscape. He acknowledges that college football has changed dramatically over the past five years. NIL legislation, the transfer portal, expanded playoffs, and conference realignment have created an environment that many veteran coaches find disorienting or distasteful. Saban was one of the most vocal critics of those changes, often warning that the “NFL-ization” of college football would diminish the integrity of the sport. For Ferentz, the key has been adapting without losing core values.
“I don’t love everything that’s happening in college football right now,” Ferentz said. “There are days it feels more like a business than a game. But I still believe there’s value in teaching young men, helping them grow, being a steady voice in their lives. That hasn’t changed. And as long as I feel like I’m doing that well, I’ll keep going.”
That ethos — one of mentorship and patience — may be what ultimately defines Ferentz’s legacy. While Saban’s is etched in championships and dominance, Ferentz’s is marked by resilience and cultural integrity. He’s withstood calls for his dismissal, navigated scandal, battled through injuries and adversity, and continued to produce competitive teams without ever chasing headlines.
He also addressed the emotional toll of retirement, noting that some coaches leave the game not because they’re ready, but because they no longer see a path forward. In Saban’s case, Ferentz suspects it wasn’t burnout in the traditional sense, but rather a sense that the job was no longer the job he signed up for decades ago.
“When you’ve done this as long as Coach Saban has, you can feel when the ground is shifting under your feet,” Ferentz said. “He knew what he wanted college football to be, and maybe it just moved too far away from that. For me, I’m still comfortable with the ground I’m standing on.”
Ferentz’s comments come at a time when more and more veteran coaches are exiting the sport. Saban, Jim Harbaugh, David Shaw, and even Mike Leach (whose death shocked the sport) represent a wave of departures that has left college football in a state of generational transition. Younger coaches, often with backgrounds in analytics, marketing, and media management, are stepping into roles once reserved for old-school tacticians. Ferentz, to his credit, hasn’t tried to reinvent himself — but he has surrounded himself with enough evolving minds to keep Iowa relevant.
“Change is inevitable,” he said. “But if you know who you are, and you know what you stand for, you can survive the change. You don’t have to chase every new trend.”
Still, Ferentz admits that the idea of retirement crosses his mind — occasionally. Not in a concrete way, but more in moments of reflection. When asked if he has a target year or win total that would make him feel satisfied, he shook his head.
“I’ve never thought that way,” he said. “I didn’t get into this to hit milestones. I got into it because I believed in the work. If there comes a day where I wake up and feel like I don’t have the energy, or the connection to the players isn’t there anymore, I’ll know. But we’re not there yet.”
That self-awareness, coupled with humility, is what many believe separates Ferentz from his peers. He doesn’t see himself as untouchable, doesn’t bristle at criticism, and doesn’t operate with the arrogance that can often accompany longevity. Even after decades in the same job, he still sees every season as an opportunity to learn.
Former players and assistant coaches often speak of Ferentz in reverent tones, describing a coach who’s demanding but deeply human, someone who leads with conviction and care. For them, the idea of Ferentz retiring is almost unthinkable — not because he can’t be replaced, but because his presence feels synonymous with Iowa football.
“If he left tomorrow, it’d be like the heart of the program walking out the door,” one former player said. “He’s been the rock. The one constant.”
And while Saban’s retirement has opened up a Pandora’s box of “who’s next?” questions, Ferentz seems content to leave those answers in the future. He has no desire for a farewell tour, no appetite for legacy-chasing. For him, the work is enough.
“There are a lot of things I could be doing,” Ferentz said. “But nothing would be as fulfilling as what I’m doing now. Helping a 19-year-old kid become a man? That’s still the best part of the job.”
As college football continues to evolve, the contrast between Ferentz and Saban serves as a compelling case study in how different coaching journeys can reach different conclusions. Saban, ever the perfectionist, exited on his terms — before the machine wore him down. Ferentz, ever the builder, remains at his post, brick in hand, steady as ever.
Their legacies will be remembered differently, but both men have shaped the sport in profound ways. And in Kirk Ferentz’s case, the final chapter has yet to be written.
