Rick Flick is sitting in a conference room in the University of Cincinnati’s Richard E. Lindner Center, home base for Bearcats athletics. The swivel chair he occupies is pointed halfway toward the glass door and windows, and every few minutes a football staffer slows down his or her hustling gait to smile and wave in Flick’s direction. The 58-year-old returns the greeting, over and over, like homecoming royalty on a parade float.
No one outside the Cincinnati football program knows who Flick is. He’s not listed on any staff directory, he’s never in the spotlight and he doesn’t draw a salary from the school.