Kirk Herbstreit’s eyes narrowed as he watched the heated exchange unfold on the set of First Take. He’d seen this before — the relentless cycle of college football pundits tearing apart coaches, players, and teams for the sake of ratings. But today, something felt different. The usual banter had turned personal, and the target wasn’t just any coach. It was Ryan Day, the Ohio State head coach and Herbstreit’s long-time friend.
For weeks, the media had been circling, waiting for a misstep, a falter that could fuel their narrative: Ryan Day was under fire. The Buckeyes had faltered in big games, and the critics, like sharks in a feeding frenzy, pounced. On First Take, Stephen A. Smith had led the charge, dissecting Day’s inability to win the big one — the rivalry games, the national championships. His criticism wasn’t new, but it had taken a sharper edge. “At some point, you have to ask the question — is Ryan Day truly the man for Ohio State, or is he just another coach riding Urban Meyer’s coattails?” Smith had said with his usual flair, leaning into the mic, eyes wild with passion.
Herbstreit was disgusted. He had been on the front lines, playing at Ohio State, and now he called games for ESPN, but none of that had ever taken away his loyalty to the program, to Day, or to his own sense of justice. He felt the sting of every unjust criticism of Ryan, knowing the man behind the controversy. Day wasn’t just a coach; he was a mentor, a leader, and a relentless worker. Herbstreit wasn’t about to let First Take tear him down for cheap theatrics.
It was a slow burn, the anger that began to simmer in Herbstreit’s gut. As the segment on First Take continued, the heat intensified, each shot fired by Smith punctuating a point that twisted the narrative further. Herbstreit knew it was time to speak up — but he would do it on his terms.
With a deep breath, he grabbed the phone. The ESPN studio wasn’t too far from First Take, and he had enough pull to get through to the producers. The call went through, and the next thing he knew, he was on the air with his own response.
“Listen,” Herbstreit began, his voice cutting through the chaos, “I’m tired of this constant attack on Ryan Day. It’s becoming an agenda, and it’s unfair. For those who don’t know, Ryan is a relentless worker. He’s been through a lot to get to where he is, and he’s held to a higher standard than most coaches because of the history and legacy of Ohio State. But at the end of the day, let’s not forget: he’s human too.”
The show’s hosts hesitated for a second. Stephen A. Smith’s eyes narrowed, but Herbstreit wasn’t finished. “Ryan Day has done more for that program than anyone who doesn’t understand the ins and outs of college football could possibly know. He’s built a culture of excellence and pushed Ohio State forward, even in the face of criticism that has often been unwarranted. You want to talk about his record in big games? Okay, but let’s talk about the players he’s developed, the wins that count beyond the box score. The narrative here is getting skewed, and I’m not going to sit back and let that happen. Ryan Day deserves better.”
Smith’s face twitched, as though he didn’t expect the response. But Herbstreit’s words hung in the air. His defense was rooted in truth — Ryan Day wasn’t some puppet of Urban Meyer’s success. He was his own man, forging his own path, and he didn’t deserve to be undermined by shallow critiques on national television.
The phone call ended, and the studio buzzed with quiet for a moment. Stephen A. Smith shot a glance at his co-host, clearly taken aback, before finally speaking. “Kirk, I respect you, but I still stand by my point.” But the damage had been done. Herbstreit had fired back, and the message was clear: First Take would have to rethink their attack on Ryan Day — and maybe, just maybe, the media circus would move on to a new target.
As Herbstreit sat back, he felt a small victory in the air. It wasn’t just a defense of Day; it was a stand for fairness, for respect, and for a coach who had too long been judged without context. The fight, in some small way, had been won.