Special teams win games. That’s one of the oldest truths in football.
Which is exactly why Colorado’s latest decision has people talking.
For the 2026 season, Coach Prime confirmed that the Buffaloes will not have a designated special teams coordinator. On the surface, that sounds like a risky move—especially for a team that struggled in that phase just a season ago.
But like most things around Colorado football, the reality is more layered than the headline suggests.
Why This Decision Is Raising Eyebrows
The reaction didn’t come out of nowhere.
Colorado’s special teams unit in 2025 had real issues. The Buffaloes ranked near the bottom nationally in net punting and allowed multiple blocked kicks—mistakes that directly impact field position and momentum.
In a sport where margins are thin, those details matter.
So naturally, when a team with those struggles chooses not to assign a dedicated coordinator the following season, the first question becomes simple:
How does that get better without clear leadership?
What This Actually Means (And What It Doesn’t)
The key detail here is understanding what “no coordinator” really means.
It does not mean special teams are being ignored.
Instead, it suggests a distributed approach. Position coaches take ownership of specific units. Analysts assist with planning. The structure becomes more collaborative rather than centralized under one title.
That model isn’t unheard of. In fact, variations of it exist at higher levels of football, where responsibilities are divided to allow for more detailed focus within each phase.
The difference is execution.
Because without a single voice leading the unit, communication and consistency become critical.
The Strategic Bet Behind the Move
At its core, this decision feels like a philosophical choice.
Rather than relying on one coordinator to oversee everything, Colorado appears to be betting on shared accountability across the staff.
The idea is simple:
More coaches involved means more attention to detail.
More responsibility spread across the room means fewer blind spots.
If executed correctly, that approach can create a more disciplined and connected unit.
But that “if” is doing a lot of work.
Where This Could Work
There is a scenario where this decision looks smart by midseason.
If the coverage units improve…
If the protection holds…
If the mistakes disappear…
Then the narrative flips quickly.
Instead of questioning the structure, people start pointing to it as an example of modern coaching flexibility—adapting roles instead of following tradition.
And in a program that has already shown a willingness to challenge conventional thinking, that wouldn’t be entirely surprising.
Where This Could Backfire
At the same time, the risk is obvious.
Special teams rely heavily on coordination. Timing, spacing, assignments—everything has to be precise.
Without a clear leader, even small breakdowns can snowball into bigger problems.
If Colorado struggles again in that phase early in the season, the criticism will be immediate.
Not because the idea is new…
But because the results didn’t justify it.
This Is About Structure, Not Titles
What makes this situation interesting is that most of the debate is centered on the job title itself.
But football outcomes are rarely determined by titles.
They are determined by execution.
If the system works, the lack of a coordinator becomes irrelevant.
If it doesn’t, the absence of that role becomes the easiest explanation.
That’s the balance Colorado is walking into the 2026 season.
Final Thoughts
This decision isn’t automatically right or wrong.
It’s a calculated risk.
Colorado is choosing structure over tradition, collaboration over hierarchy, and flexibility over convention.
That approach could create a sharper, more accountable unit…
Or it could expose the exact weaknesses critics are already pointing to.
Either way, one thing is clear: special teams won’t be an afterthought in 2026.
They’ll be one of the biggest storylines to watch.