This ain’t about dancing, OK? Don’t get caught in the minutiae.

This is about how badly you want it, and how much you’ll sacrifice to get it. 

“There’s a bigger sense of entitlement with our youth than ever before,” says West Virginia coach Rich Rodriguez.

And if you think he’s done there, clutch your pearls. We’re just getting started.

So I ask how he deals with the entitlement, and that sent Rodriguez – in the news earlier this week because, sin of all sins, he told players he didn’t want them dancing on TikTok – to a rare place only few coaches can go in this age of player empowerment.

The place of I Don’t Care.    

“You don’t have to put up with that. We won’t,” Rodriguez said. “That’s just the way it is. It’s not really a conversation. It’s more of a directive. I’m not making a suggestion, I’m giving you a command.”

He pauses momentarily, and chuckles, “Sometimes I’ve got to yell a little louder.”

Welcome, everyone, the return of RichRod in Morgantown. The coach who had West By God one win from playing for the 2007 BCS National Championship, is back in his old stomping ground — and it’s like he never left. 

In some ways, anyway. 

It’s still finding three-star players and developing them into All-Americans (hello, Pat White and Steve Slaton). It’s still doing more with less, while dealing with blue blood football programs with more money and more advantages. 

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It’s also still about Chris Borland. 

Years ago, I found Rodriguez at the NCAA annual coaches convention, and he was trying to explain why it didn’t work at Michigan. He brought up Borland, a marginal linebacker recruit because of his size (5-feet-11 on a good day), but a beast of a player hours south of Michigan in Kettering, Ohio. 

Before Rodriguez turned down Alabama and stayed at West Virginia (and Nick Saban later accepted the job), and after he eventually left for Michigan and it went bad, he pointed to Borland as a microcosm of the failure. 

The Rodriguez of West Virginia would’ve snapped up Borland, developed him, and had an All-America linebacker (like Wisconsin did). But the Rodriguez of Michigan passed, opting instead for more stars, and height and weight that fit the mold — and fit what Michigan should be recruiting. 

Instead of what made Rodriguez, and by extension West Virginia, a team that could win it all despite the inherent disadvantages.

He’s not making that mistake again, everyone. And now he has coaching capital.

West Virginia was desperate, and the fanbase was raging and restless after Bill Stewart, Dana Holgorsen and Neal Brown couldn’t recapture the magic of RichRod. So the university brought back the one coach who broke its collective heart nearly two decades ago.

Because now it finally made sense.

So if you think Rodriguez, whose coaching motto is Hard Edge, who was 32-5 from 2005-07 at West Virginia before leaving for Michigan, is backing down from players who want to put me before we, you clearly haven’t been following along.

NIL has a place and a purpose in football, he says. It doesn’t run football.   

“You used to be able to tell a player to run through a wall, and he’ll run through it no questions,” Rodriguez said. “Now they want to know why, and when you give him the answer, he’ll say, ‘That’s not what it says on Google.’ I still think good players want to be coached hard. I still think you can be demanding. It’s our job as coaches to get you better than you ever thought you could be.”

Nothing about this reunion will be easy. West Virginia slipped late under Holgorsen, and then ran out of gas under Brown. The program that had elevated to national prominence under Rodriguez, struggled against rivals Pitt and Penn State and couldn’t compete in the Big 12. 

The roster has been turned over, and Rodriguez doesn’t yet have a quarterback. Heck, he may even turn it over at some point in 2025 to freshman Scott Fox Jr., who enrolled early and has been a revelation of sorts in spring practice. 

It should come as no surprise that Fox was a three-star recruit, and overlooked by blue blood power conference schools. He wants it. It’s important to him. 

“There’s a lot of more things in your life than this sport. Your family, your religion,” Rodriguez said. “But when we’re practicing, when we’re playing, that next play is the most important thing in your world.”

Or as his friend Mike Leach always said, if you’re not coaching it, you’re allowing it.

In a few weeks, they’ll open up Milan Puskar Stadium for the annual spring game, and they’ll lock arms in the stands and sing “Country Roads”. The rebirth will have begin.

Somewhere in that crowd will be Rodriguez, call sheet in hand, looking for some help. 

“I’m going to go in the stands and give fans a chance to call plays,” Rodriguez said. “I did it at Arizona, and when they called a play that didn’t work, I booed them at the top of my lungs. What a terrible call! Fire the bum!”

He’s laughing now, because it’s good to be back home and good to be wanted. And good to have that coaching capital again.

He’s talking about competing at a high level early, and not settling. About toughness and intensity and a core belief that players want to be coached hard.

All of those key building blocks of football that have gotten lost at times in a social media world. 

“I’m still sticking to it,” Rodriguez said. “(Players) have to get refocused on exactly what the hell they’re supposed to be doing. They’re not on that team to be the best dancer on TikTok.”

The world of I Don’t Care has returned to West Virginia. 

Don’t get caught in the minutiae.

Matt Hayes is the senior national college football writer for USA TODAY Sports Network. Follow him on X at @MattHayesCFB.