A Storm Brews in Manhattan: Klieman Hints at Tampering with Avery Johnson
At the heart of Big 12 Media Days in Arlington, amid the lights, cameras, and rehearsed optimism, Kansas State head coach Chris Klieman dropped a subtle but seismic comment. When asked about rising sophomore quarterback Avery Johnson’s offseason development, Klieman’s smile thinned. His response wasn’t inflammatory—but it didn’t need to be. “Let’s just say we’re grateful Avery stayed home,” he said, locking eyes with a room full of reporters. “There were voices… outside the family.”
It didn’t take long for whispers to become wildfire.
The implication was clear: tampering. Unofficial recruiting. Enticements behind closed doors. And Johnson—arguably the most electric quarterback prospect K-State has seen since Michael Bishop—was at the center of it. The K-State faithful know what they have in Johnson: 6’2″, blazing fast, cannon-armed, and carrying the quiet confidence of a leader in the making. What they didn’t know—until now—was just how close they may have come to losing him.
Sources close to the program, speaking on condition of anonymity, described a tense December. Johnson, fresh off an explosive relief performance in the Pop-Tarts Bowl, became a hot name in coaching circles. Not officially. Not publicly. But text messages came through intermediaries. NIL numbers were floated. Promises were made. Miami. Auburn. Even a Big Ten power. All allegedly expressing “interest”—none directly, of course. That would be illegal. That would be tampering.
Klieman, a coach known for his steadiness and culture-building rather than drama, found himself playing defense—not on the field, but in the living room. More than once this past winter, he and OC Collin Klein sat across from Johnson and his family, reaffirming belief. Reaffirming opportunity. Reaffirming that Manhattan, Kansas, not South Beach or Tuscaloosa, was where legends could still be built.
Johnson, for his part, never entered the portal. Not officially. Not even to “explore options,” as some stars do. But the pressure was real. His silence was steadying, but not without burden. “It wasn’t just about money,” a family friend said. “It was about trust. About believing in the system he’d signed up for.”
K-State’s staff tightened its circle. Players were reminded that loyalty goes both ways. And when Johnson appeared in spring ball—helmet on, purple jersey, running the first-team offense—it wasn’t just a sign of business as usual. It was a quiet victory.
Still, Klieman’s remark at media days lingers. “There were voices… outside the family.”
It’s a warning shot across the bow of college football’s new frontier—where NIL and the portal collide in a gray market of whispers, shadows, and ambition. Tampering is notoriously difficult to prove, but even harder to ignore. And while Johnson stayed, others may not.
For now, the Wildcats keep their rising star. But in this brave new era, every offseason is a battle—and not all of it is fought on the field.
