Roll No More: Why I Miss Coach O Every Damn Day

He was Louisiana in cleats — loud, proud, and red in the face for all the right reasons.

If you’ve seen the viral clip going around, you already know: some poor soul thought it’d be funny to yell “Roll Tide” at Coach Ed Orgeron as he jogged by.

Coach O didn’t flinch. Didn’t laugh. Just wheeled around with that legendary raspy growl and let the guy know exactly how he felt about it:

“You wouldn’t say Geaux Tigahs to Nick Saban.”“So don’t say it to me.”“Just have some respect.”

And that right there?That’s Louisiana.

The Voice of the Boot — And the Soul of a Team

When Coach O left LSU, it wasn’t just the end of a coaching stint — it was the end of an era.

That voice — thick as cypress bark and twice as weathered — was unmistakable. You didn’t need subtitles, but you needed a Louisiana birth certificate to truly understand it. It wasn’t polished. It wasn’t pretty. But it was real.

Just like him.

2019: The Season We’ll Never Forget

Coach O didn’t just lead a team — he led the team.15-0. National Champs. Joe Burrow. Justin Jefferson. Ja’Marr Chase.A squad that didn’t just win — they dominated. Every Saturday felt like watching destiny in pads.

And through it all, on the sidelines, was Coach O — red in the face, barking orders, chest out like a proud Cajun father watching his sons whip the nation.

No coach has ever embodied the state of Louisiana like he did.Not just by birth — but by attitude.

A Little Fire, A Lot of Heart

Yes, he got loud. Yes, he turned crimson every time he called a timeout or made a point. And yeah — he got with a few college-aged women after the championship.

But you know what? The man was single, a national champion, and walking around like a Greek god dipped in Tony’s.

Can you blame him?

That Viral Moment Meant Something

The “Roll Tide” moment is funny on the surface. But beneath the bark, it says something deeper.

Coach O isn’t about gimmicks.He’s about respect.About carrying the weight of the jersey, even when you’re not on the sidelines anymore.

He wasn’t just defending himself. He was defending the state, the program, and the legacy he helped build with his own two damn hands.

I Miss That Guy

I miss the intensity. The red face. The voice that made national broadcasters sweat and made LSU fans proud.

I miss knowing that on any given Saturday, the guy pacing the sideline wanted it more than anyone else in the stadium.

He wasn’t perfect. But he was ours.

And he gave everything he had to LSU.

So yeah, I miss the hell outta Coach O. And I’d take one more sideline growl, one more fired-up postgame howl,over a thousand suit-and-tie press conferences.

The man was a Tiger.

And he always will be.