Confession time: I don’t hate Charlie Weis. I never did, and absent some story surfacing about heinous behavior of his, I’m sure I never will.

This isn’t necessarily a popular take among Notre Dame football fans. Weis, after all, was the last of three (four, if you count the week-long George O’Leary era) failed football coaches in what is sometimes dismissively considered the “Davweisingham” era.

For 13 straight seasons, almost nothing went right for the football program under Bob Davie, Tyrone Willingham, and then Weis. (Davie and Willingham ended their tenures with the exact same .583 winning percentage, and incredibly, Weis was sitting at .583 too until he lost to UConn, after which he privately received the axe – it didn’t become public until after the subsequent Stanford loss.) Since Brian Kelly has come along and at least restored the program to consistent competitiveness, those 13 seasons all kind of lump together for many Irish fans.

The fact that Weis was last of the three coaches of that time probably made his failure as Notre Dame coach seem even more pronounced than the others, as the Irish fan base was sick to death of losing by the time his tenure went down in flames. It probably didn’t help that he received a then-gigantic 10-year contract extension after coaching six games at Notre Dame – Kevin White panicked upon hearing some Weis/NFL rumors and didn’t want any more bad press after the Willingham firing fiasco. Retroactively, Weis’ disastrous tenure running Kansas has made him look even worse.

More to the point, Weis’ public demeanor could always be charitably described as “abrasive”. He was not and is not what you would consider a nice man. Many people have a “Weis is a jerk in non-football-related public settings” stories, and I’ve heard a lot of them. (He once came with his family to see a movie at a theater where I worked, and I took their concession order – I think his wife Maura actually handled the transaction. He was silent and clearly had an air of “don’t even freaking think about talking football with me right now” about him. Not that I blame him.)

Anyway, all of these things and more contribute to Weis’ negative image among Notre Dame fans. I’m not here to argue with that image, only to say that I personally don’t hold the same level of antipathy for Weis that I do for the two yutzes that preceded him.

Why? A few key reasons.

He tried

This might seem an obvious thing to want out of a coach, but as Irish fans learned from Willingham, it’s not. The last couple of years of his tenure were recruiting atrocities; a coach actively trying to sabotage the program could hardly have turned in classes worse than Willingham’s 2004 and 2005 signing classes, which between them included four four-star players, according to 247Sports, and zero five-stars. (For a frame of reference, Minnesota has signed six total four-star players in the last two recruiting classes, ranking 38th in each of them.)

Willingham didn’t even have the courtesy to have full classes’ worth of flotsam, taking only 31 signees combined in those seasons, which effectively put ND on self-imposed NCAA probation. (Those four-stars, by the way, were Anthony Vernaglia, Junior Jabbie, Joey Hiben and DJ Hord. Bang-up evaluations, Ty.)

So awful were these classes that I distinctly remember even at the time that ND fans put way too much store by the decision of Darius Walker to come to ND. Walker – who did, of course, go on to have an excellent career here – was a three-star who would barely elicit a raised eyebrow were he to come along now and commit to Kelly, but at the time he was a pot of gold.

Weis showed up and delivered immediate recruiting results, blowtorching the lie that ND couldn’t bring in top talent. His first full class, the signing class of 2006, was ranked #5 in the country by 247Sports and included four-year starter Sam Young. (The rest of the class didn’t end up being that good, but hey, this stuff is an imperfect science.) His second full class ranked #6 and included Jimmy Clausen, Golden Tate, Armando Allen, Robert Hughes and Harrison Smith, among other contributors.

Of course, the most famous class to illustrate Weis’ ability and desire to get guys to South Bend was his third, which ranked #2 (#1 by some) despite coming off 2007’s 3-9 disaster. (Remember those 2004 and 2005 recruiting classes? Those guys were juniors and seniors in 2007. Just thought I’d mention it.)

That class included Michael Floyd, Kyle Rudolph, Jonas Gray, Robert Blanton, John Goodman, Kapron Lewis-Moore and others. Weis added more stories to the “Weis is a relentless recruiter” bucket when he managed to get Manti Te’o to Notre Dame a year later despite then-juggernaut USC wanting him bad and despite Te’o’s official visit coming in a pathetic loss to Syracuse in 2008 in the freezing cold. At one point Weis flew to Hawaii just to watch Manti’s high school game and then immediately flew back to South Bend without even staying overnight – or actually talking to Te’o, since by NCAA rule he could not.

He was arrogant, but the fan base needed that at the time

Weis’ two immediate predecessors were a guy who did nothing but complain about how hard it was to recruit to ND (Davie) and a guy who didn’t even bother to try (Willingham, as illustrated above). The demeanor with which those two treated Notre Dame’s unique place in college football lent itself quite easily to the omnipresent “ND can’t win big anymore” narrative that was as loud as it’s ever been during the 2004 coaching search. It was a narrative some ND fans even started to believe.

Fans my age, too young to remember 1988 or the early ’90s, were so beaten down by the program’s failures that some of us weren’t even sure dumping Willingham was the right move at the time – in retrospect, that seems absurd. Even when word got out that Weis had been hired, the name didn’t really move the needle, especially after the publicly failed courtship of Urban Meyer, who had picked Florida over his so-called dream school.

Weis wasn’t having any of that nonsense. He famously described ND’s “6-5 football team” as “not good enough” in his opening press conference and did the off-season media car wash with a clear message: I’m sick of hearing about this team losing and I’m going to fix it.

It was, of course, arrogant rhetoric, and it would prove to be wrong – the phrase “decided schematic advantage”, invoked in a private meeting with the team, is now forever part of the college football lexicon. But for two seasons, at least, Weis seemed to be backing up his talk. The Irish’s 9-3 record in 2005 included seven pretty easy wins, plus a thrilling win over Michigan in Ann Arbor that still marks the most recent ND win in that godforsaken place. Even the relative disappointment (given preseason expectations) of 2006 was a 10-3 season in which the Irish beat everyone they should have, even if it wasn’t always easy.

With 2021 hindsight, it’s easy to look back and talk about Weis’ arrogance given how stupid his failure as coach makes it look. That said, when he got here, things had been bad for basically a decade straight. Enthusiasm (anecdotally speaking) seemed to be at a low ebb. ND fans were losing faith in the program. Basically, most of what I said last year about how poorly Brian Kelly’s first season at ND was going in 2010 applies here.

I think this fan base needed a guy that said, in effect, “Screw this. We’re Notre Dame, and we’re going to win, and we’re not going to feel bad about it.” Again, Weis clearly ended up being the wrong person to get that done. But for a couple of years, at least, Irish fans finally got a taste of what it might be like to be elite again – some, like me, for the first time they could remember. And it made them want more.

He set the table for who was next

Unlike Davie and Willingham, Notre Dame football was unquestionably in a better place when Weis was fired than it had been when he was hired. Yes, ND was coming off three consecutive .500 or worse regular seasons, but the recent 2005 and ’06 seasons were still proof of concept, and only a blind man could fail to see the talent and the potential that had been squandered in 2009. The NFL certainly didn’t miss it; it’s incredible, looking back, at how many guys on that 2009 team spent a decent amount of time on pro rosters, several of them having very good careers. (Hell, a couple are still going even now.)

That talent was reflected in the pool of coaches who were interested in the Notre Dame job after Weis was sent to pasture, especially by comparison to the searches that came before. The Irish made what would probably have ended up being a decent hire in O’Leary after Davie, but when that went down in flames, they crawled to Willingham and basically begged him to take the job for lack of better options. After Willingham failed, ND had very little option except a doomed pursuit of Urban Meyer. (Tom O’Brien? Tom Clements? Oof. Jeff Tedford, who might have been decent, quickly signed an extension at Cal.) According to a Chicago Tribune article of the time, Weis wasn’t even originally contacted, which doesn’t say much for the people leading the search.

Brian Kelly came to South Bend in part because it’d been shown he could win here.

Not so in 2009. There’s reason to believe the Irish had interest from, among others, Bob Stoops and Gary Patterson, both of whom were at or near the top of their game at that point. Of course, we know they landed on Kelly, who was probably the most coveted up-and-coming coach in that off-season cycle. And Kelly, in his 3rd season at the helm, rode some key players recruited by Weis (including Heisman runner-up Te’o) to a dream regular season that propelled the Irish to the BCS title game. He’s now on the precipice of his 12th season and will surpass Knute Rockne in games won at the school this year.

Weis ultimately failed in South Bend, and failed big time. But by at least proving, however briefly, that the canards about Notre Dame not being able to recruit with the elite or elbow their way into the title picture on occasion were just that, he allowed Irish fans to dream that things could get better and made the job attractive enough that a good coach everyone wanted could come along and bring about those better days.

And that’s why I don’t hate Charlie Weis.