The story of Kansas football under Lance Leipold is not just a tale of wins and losses. It is a narrative about belief, culture, leadership, and the grit to change a program that many had already written off as a perennial loser. When Leipold took the helm of the Jayhawks, Kansas football was, quite frankly, the butt of the joke in college football circles. With years of futility, administrative missteps, coaching carousel chaos, and a fanbase more accustomed to hardwood dreams than gridiron triumphs, the odds were stacked against Leipold. Yet, he didn’t flinch. He didn’t seek shortcuts or make hollow promises. Instead, Leipold rolled up his sleeves, looked his players in the eyes, and slowly, methodically began building something that had long been missing in Lawrence: a football identity built on resilience, accountability, and excellence.
Leipold’s journey to Kansas was unconventional by Power Five standards. A Division III legend at Wisconsin-Whitewater with six national championships, he moved up the coaching ladder through Buffalo, where he eventually transformed a once-dormant MAC program into a bowl-game regular. Still, few predicted success in Lawrence. The football graveyard at Kansas had claimed talented coaches before him, and Leipold inherited a roster ravaged by transfers, thin on depth, and mentally scarred by years of losing. But what he brought with him was a clear and steady process. He didn’t talk about miracles. He talked about habits. He emphasized fundamentals, discipline, and hard work. From the very first spring practice, Leipold and his staff began to instill a culture where details mattered and no snap was taken for granted.
What quickly became apparent to those watching closely was that Leipold wasn’t just coaching football. He was building belief. For a team that hadn’t had a winning season since 2008 and had seen just three conference wins in six years, that belief was revolutionary. Players began holding themselves accountable. The weight room became a place of pride, not punishment. Mental errors began to dwindle. While the win column didn’t immediately reflect it in year one, those within the program could sense the change. The losses became closer. The team didn’t fold in the second half. They competed with heart and purpose. And then, in year two, it happened. Kansas started winning.
The 2022 season was a turning point. Not just because the Jayhawks reached bowl eligibility for the first time in over a decade, but because of how they got there. They didn’t back into wins. They earned them. Signature victories over West Virginia, Iowa State, and a stunning upset of Texas in Austin showcased a team that played with poise, confidence, and execution. Quarterback Jalon Daniels became a breakout star, embodying the fearlessness that had come to define Leipold’s approach. The offensive line, once a glaring weakness, began dominating in the trenches. The defense, while still a work in progress, showed fight and a refusal to be bullied. Perhaps the most striking transformation wasn’t on the field but in the stands. Kansas fans started believing again.
Game days at David Booth Kansas Memorial Stadium were suddenly electric. Students showed up early and stayed late. Jayhawk gear flew off shelves. National broadcasts began to take note. Suddenly, Kansas football was no longer an afterthought. It was a story of rebirth. Leipold’s calm demeanor on the sidelines, paired with his fiery competitiveness behind closed doors, gave the program a steady hand it had lacked for decades. He didn’t chase headlines; he chased consistency. That consistency began attracting recruits who wanted to be part of something special — not just to play early, but to help change a culture.
By the time the 2023 season rolled around, Kansas football was no longer a curiosity — it was a team to be respected. Even after dealing with injuries, especially to Daniels, the Jayhawks remained competitive in one of the toughest conferences in America. That resilience didn’t just happen by accident. It was forged through months of disciplined practices, grueling offseason workouts, and an unwavering belief in Leipold’s message. The players trusted him because he had earned it. He didn’t promise easy success; he promised a path, and he stayed true to it. When Kansas finished 9-4 with a bowl victory, it wasn’t a fluke. It was the culmination of strategic vision and collective buy-in.
Off the field, Leipold’s impact has been just as profound. He’s rebuilt bridges between the program and its alumni base, opened his doors to local high schools and coaches, and created a sense of ownership among players, fans, and stakeholders. There’s a humility to Leipold that’s rare at the Power Five level. He’s not a salesman. He’s a teacher. He doesn’t just demand excellence; he explains why it matters. And in doing so, he has rekindled something that had long been dormant in Lawrence — pride.
That pride isn’t just about wins. It’s about identity. Kansas football now plays with a clear sense of purpose. They run the ball with intent. They play disciplined defense. They avoid the self-inflicted wounds that once defined them. When adversity strikes, they respond with grit. That’s not coincidence. That’s coaching. That’s culture. And perhaps most importantly, that’s belief passed from coach to player, from player to locker room, and from locker room to community.
Leipold has also managed to make Kansas a desirable coaching destination. His staff, a blend of old colleagues and fresh minds, has meshed brilliantly. Continuity and cohesion have become hallmarks of the program. Development is prioritized over hype. While others chase five-star headlines, Leipold focuses on finding the right fits — athletes with chips on their shoulders, eager to prove they belong. And he develops them. That’s the secret sauce. In a sport where many programs live and die by the transfer portal, Kansas has managed to both retain talent and bring in contributors who buy into the system. That’s not luck. That’s the result of trust and transparency.
Recruits are noticing. So are rival coaches. Suddenly, Kansas isn’t just a game to circle as an easy win. It’s a legitimate challenge. And that shift in perception is seismic. For decades, Kansas football was seen as a doormat. Now, under Leipold, it’s a program on the rise with real staying power. And while some might see the recent success as the ceiling, those inside the walls of the facility know it’s just the beginning.
Leipold has never been one to chase accolades, but the awards and recognition have started to pour in. Coach of the Year mentions. National spotlights. NFL scouts frequenting campus. But what seems to matter most to him is not what’s written on plaques, but what’s built in hearts and minds. He’s not trying to win for a year. He’s trying to build a program that sustains excellence, that survives beyond his own tenure. That’s legacy-building, and that’s far rarer than a few good seasons.
And what of the fans? Perhaps the most beautiful part of this revival is how the Kansas fanbase has responded. Long-starved of football joy, they have embraced this team with unmatched passion. Tailgates are fuller. Student sections are louder. The energy around the program is infectious. For a school known for basketball, football is no longer an afterthought. It’s a source of pride. Young Jayhawk fans now grow up dreaming not just of hitting threes in Allen Fieldhouse, but of scoring touchdowns on a crisp autumn Saturday in Memorial Stadium. That shift in aspiration — that evolution of identity — is monumental.
The revival of Kansas football is not just about sports. It’s about what happens when a community believes in something bigger than itself. It’s about leadership that doesn’t flinch in the face of history. It’s about players who refuse to be defined by the past. And it’s about a coach who saw beyond the losing records and empty stands and instead envisioned a future full of possibility. Lance Leipold may not be the loudest coach in college football. But he might just be the most impactful. Because what he’s done in Lawrence transcends wins and losses. He’s restored faith. He’s redefined what Kansas football means. And in doing so, he’s inspired a fanbase reborn — one heartbeat, one play, one Saturday at a time.
