We’ve had fun with Les Miles for long enough.
That includes me, a person who reported on him for three years as a beat writer in Baton Rouge, a person who grew close to him after his firing from LSU in 2016, a person who even visited him once he was hired at Kansas in 2019.
I thought I knew Les. Maybe most of us thought we knew Les. We were drawn to his quirky, kooky nature. The way he botched the English syntax. The way he launched into befuddling musings about national holidays. The way he smirked, his goofy gestures, the odd staring.