The rumors are all the same: that Paul Chryst, former Wisconsin offensive coordinator and current Pitt head coach, will jilt the Panthers and return home to his alma mater. And when you have the man who turned John Stocco into the starting quarterback for the Rhinos Milanos on speed dial, who are we to say you're not ready for the coaching search, Barry Alvarez?
The answer is: we're the internet, and our first move is this: you've already done something wrong, and we're about to yell at you about it.
That something wrong would be not going outside the proverbial box of your experience, Wisconsin, and reaching for the greatest manager/coach/sensei figure in all of sports currently NOT coaching football. He's a Big Ten man from Perrysburg, Ohio. He understands how to take a locker room from ashy to classy, or at least from ashy to classy and also kind of ashy. He has a championship since 1997, and is thus a better candidate than any Big Ten coach not named Jim Tressel. He's proven, he's experienced, and most importantly, he's available immediately.
So he hasn't coached college football before. Did vast college experience help Charlie Weis do anything, ever? He smokes, sure, but in a state like Wisconsin that can only help with recruiting. He doesn't have a college degree, something required by most universities in the job description, unless you count "College of Life, Minor League Bus Division Whereupon I Lived In The Same Two Jock Straps For Two Decades" counts. That institution has just as much academic integrity as Florida State University; it should be recognized accordingly.
The advantages are endless. Facing no-huddle offenses? Slow them down when Leyland walks onto the field to talk to his middle linebacker for minute at a time. You won't give him a delay of game penalty. No one without a gun would, and only SEC officials carry firearms onto the field. (Pac-12 officials carry taxidermed chickens they call "Baffo-Rays." No one is sure why, but they insist on their total importance.)
You want strategy? Baseball is literally the most complex game on the planet, per baseball fans, so managing eleven different variables on every single play should be child's play compared to [WHATEVER THE HELL A BASEBALL MANAGER DOES.] Player development? Jim Leyland got Bobby Bonilla paid twice. TWICE.
And he'll recruit the hell out of Florida. He and Urban Meyer both have a ring, but can Urban show you how to hide a body in a bus station so it won't be found for weeks? No, because that's something you only learn managing in the minor leagues.
Most importantly: Jim Leyland cannot die, and so money is meaningless to him. He does this only to pass the time as friends and lovers around him shuffle off this mortal coil. Jim Leyland was born a Visigoth warrior known as "Jim the Skull-Drinker." He hit .313 for the Visigoths before deciding to hang up his siege bat.