Ole Miss didn’t just punch its first ticket into the College Football Playoff. It somehow also discovered a head coach who talks like the people who actually sit in the general-admission seats — not the folks sipping cocktails in the climate-controlled suites.
It wasn’t surprising for some of us. I had the radio stations in Cleveland, Miss., when Pete Golding was a player there at Delta State.
My son, Taylor, covered them when Golding was on the coaching staff under Ron Roberts, who was the defensive coordinator at Auburn and most recently, Florida, for the last couple of years.
None of what Golding said when he stepped to the podium Sunday and delivered something this fan base hasn’t always gotten from its coaches: honesty, plain words, and zero effort to charm the so-called “upper echelon.”
He’s the real deal and he’s not trying to impress you with anything but how the team plays and wins games.
Instead of polished lines meant for fundraising dinners, Golding offered the verbal equivalent of a plate lunch from a gas-station café outside Oxford. Simple. Filling. No garnish needed.
He talked for more than 25 minutes, and at no point did he try to convince anyone he was reinventing the program. In fact, he joked he hadn’t slept and said the week was full of things that didn’t matter.
If you listened closely, you could practically hear Rebels fans shouting, “Finally!” from their tailgates and kitchen tables.
Golding never once said the previous head coach’s name. He just moved forward. That alone made him sound like thousands of Ole Miss loyalists who have spent the past month muttering, “Let’s talk about football again, please.”
Golding said the team’s success would come down to the plan, the preparation and the players’ attitude — not the man sending them onto the field.
It was the kind of comment that makes wealthy donors wrinkle their brows but makes average fans nod while pouring another sweet tea.
Just in case you haven’t been paying close attention or relating, it sounds an awful lot like what former Alabama coach Nick Saban said in an overall approach. Everything is about “the process.”
Then Golding told his players it’s fine to celebrate the CFP berth but not to act like it’s the peak of civilization.
He wants the Rebels to approach it like something expected, not something that deserves a parade every quarter-mile down Highway 7.
Any ordinary Ole Miss fan could have delivered the same speech — though maybe with more colorful vocabulary.
He pointed out that the past month and a half has been full of noise that didn’t help win games. Again, regular fans have been yelling that point into the void for weeks — usually while scrolling message boards in frustration.
Golding simply said it out loud in a microphone, and suddenly it sounded like fresh wisdom to some people.
He also described this roster as a unique group that doesn’t care about titles or names. They care about accountability, about doing what works. Rebel fans no doubt appreciated that, especially the ones who have sat through enough drama to power a daytime soap opera.
And Golding’s best line? He said he wasn’t going to pretend to be someone he’s not — no yoga, no pickleball, no sudden attempts to become Oxford’s answer to a motivational speaker.
That honesty landed like a warm plate of ribs on a cold night.
The rank-and-file fans don’t want a coach who shape-shifts to impress donors. They want one who works, shows up, and sounds like he actually watches the same games they do.
The Rebels now turn toward Tulane on December 20. A Sugar Bowl berth waits if they win. This is the moment that could redefine what Ole Miss is nationally. And somehow, it arrives with a coach whose voice sounds more like a neighbor than a salesman.
Message that cuts through noise
Golding didn’t pander. He didn’t deliver a speech designed for social media clips. He gave the kind of talk you’d hear from a longtime season-ticket holder standing in line for a chicken-on-a-stick.
That tone matters. It fits the Rebels’ mood at a time when the program needs clarity more than slogans.
This fan base knows drama. It has lived through high points, low points and everything between.
What it wants now is a team that prepares well, plays well and doesn’t get distracted by everything happening outside the huddle. Golding’s words landed with that exact energy.
His voice isn’t shaking the foundations of the sport, but it is cutting through a lot of nonsense. And for Ole Miss, that might be the perfect fit right now.
Why sarcasm suits this moment
There’s something fitting about Golding slipping in jokes about sleep and passing on pickleball.
It’s humor that feels familiar, a reminder that the program doesn’t need a philosopher-coach or a celebrity personality. It needs someone who sees past the drama and focuses on the work.
Rebels fans have been through enough this year. They deserve a coach who talks like them and isn’t worried about impressing anyone except the players who actually have to win the games. Golding’s direct tone carries a little bite, a little sarcasm and a lot of sense.
Now the challenge becomes turning that attitude into a postseason run. Ole Miss has an opening to make real noise in the CFP, and it enters that stage with a leader who isn’t pretending to be someone else. Sometimes that’s all a team needs.
Key takeaways
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Pete Golding’s sarcasm and straightforward tone matched what normal Rebels fans have wanted all season.
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Golding dismissed the noise and emphasized preparation, accountability and stability.
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Ole Miss heads into the CFP with a coach who sounds relatable, not rehearsed.
