In Arizona, the coaching carousel keeps turning, and this time the angle isn’t just about a single hire—it’s about how small-college credibility is starting to influence a Power Five program’s approach to special teams, culture, and continuity. Personally, I think the move to add Mike Nesbitt as a special teams analyst signals more than a footnote in Arizona’s staff roster. It reveals a broader trend: big programs increasingly value the hard-won insights of coaches who have built programs from the ground up, especially when those insights translate into practical, day-to-day improvements on a phase of the game that often decides outcomes in tight games.
What makes this particular hire interesting is the arc of Nesbitt’s career. From 25-17 as the head coach at West Texas A&M to turning Ottawa University Arizona into a conference-winning startup, Nesbitt has demonstrated a knack for turning limited resources into competitive results. In my opinion, that track record matters in a program like Arizona, which has shown flashes of potential but needed seasoning to convert promise into consistent performance. His success at OUAZ—three conference titles and NAIA playoff appearances in a short window—reads less like a fairy-tale and more like a blueprint for sustainable improvement: clarity of mission, relentless attention to fundamentals, and the ability to coach players to maximize what they have.
One thing that immediately stands out is how Nesbitt’s role at Houston Christian as offensive coordinator and quarterbacks coach translates to a new job focusing on special teams at Arizona. What this raises, in a deeper sense, is the value of cross-cutting experience. Offense-born insight can inform special teams design—where decisions about return schemes, protection, and coverage aren’t isolated from how you move the football on offense. From my perspective, the most transformative coaching hires often come from people who understand multiple sides of the ball, because they bring a holistic sense of momentum—how a punt return can flip field position and tempo, or how a block on a kickoff can create a chain reaction through an entire game.
The Arizona staff already includes veteran head coach Brent Brennan, whose turnaround of San Jose State established a track record of rebuilding programs and unlocking underutilized assets. In that context, Nesbitt’s arrival as a special teams analyst complements a larger strategy: infuse proven, resourceful leadership into a unit that can swing games with one big play, yet frequently remains undervalued in public discourse. What many people don’t realize is that special teams—the fourth phase of the game—can serve as a tangible accelerator for a program still finding its footing in the competitive landscape of the Pac-12/ESPN-era college football. If Arizona wants to accelerate its ascent, the convergence of Brennan’s macro-level revival playbook with Nesbitt’s micro-level, startup-honed discipline could be precisely what’s needed.
From a broader trend vantage point, this move reflects how mid-major coaches are maximizing their leverage: they’re not just chasing head coaching gigs; they’re aggregating diverse, practical expertise that can uplift an entire program, especially in areas where margins are thin. Personally, I think it’s a shift toward a more modular coaching ecosystem—talent that can plug into multiple roles and adapt quickly to a program’s evolving needs. The value proposition isn’t just the resume; it’s the willingness to invest in specialized roles that can yield outsized returns over seasons, not just games.
If you take a step back and think about it, this is less about one man and more about a philosophy: stronger ties between accomplishments at the NAIA/Division II/III levels and the power conferences’ appetite for practical, gritty improvement. A detail I find especially telling is the emphasis on special teams work with a former punter who has NFL experience. That combination—hands-on field knowledge plus the credibility that comes with professional pedigree—feeds into a culture that respects craft and accountability. It’s not flashy, but it’s the kind of foundational help that can elevate a program’s decision-making in recruiting, development, and in-game execution.
There’s also an implicit message for players: you don’t need to be at a perennial blue-blood to learn high-level football IQ. You can find mentors who understand how to win with limited means, translate those lessons into daily practice, and then scale them up when the spotlight shifts. What this really suggests is a maturation of the coaching market, where the lines between “startup success” and “elite program development” blur, creating pipelines of practical expertise that the front office and on-field staff can deploy with more confidence.
The prospect of Nesbitt working alongside Craig Naivar, the current special teams coordinator, adds another layer of intrigue. Two different vantage points—one rooted in Coastal Carolina’s aggressive, defense-inspired philosophy and the other in Nesbitt’s startup-turn-up approach—could yield a hybrid that is nimble, adaptable, and relentlessly coached. In my opinion, this pairing embodies a practical philosophy: build a system that can absorb talent from varied backgrounds and still maintain coherence and purpose.
Looking ahead, the potential implications extend beyond Arizona. We may see more Power Five programs courting successful mid-major or NAIA coaches for specialist roles, signaling a shift in how staff construction is valued. If Nesbitt’s impact is measurable—better punt blocks, cleaner punt plays, improved field position, and a more consistent kick game—it could become a case study in how to leverage unconventional résumés to drive tangible wins. What this means for the broader sport is a reminder that excellence isn’t the sole domain of the blue-bloods; it’s a mindset that recognizes the power of careful, purpose-driven coaching across all units.
Ultimately, this hire invites a provocative question: can a program rebuild its identity around the efficiency and discipline of a staff assembled from disparate corners of the college football world? My answer, with a cautious but hopeful tilt, is yes—if the leadership remains committed to a clear vision, relentless attention to the micro-skills that win games, and the cultural trust that sustains long-term improvement. In that sense, Nesbitt’s move to Arizona isn’t just a personnel update; it’s a bet that smart, grounded coaching can carry a program from uncertain promise to credible contention. And in the high-stakes world of college football, that bet is worth watching closely.
