Chris McIntosh pledges support for Wisconsin football head coach Luke Fickell
Wisconsin athletic director Chris McIntosh publicly backs Luke Fickell, pledging long-term investment in the program over immediate change.
The questions surrounding Luke Fickell’s job security have grown louder as the University of Wisconsin football team’s season continues to spiral.
When asked whether he’s been told he’ll return next season as the Badgers’ head coach, his response was as telling as it was restrained.
“No, I don’t think any of us have a crystal ball,” Fickell said. “I’ve never asked the question. It’s not something that I can dwell upon. I can’t tell you that it’s not something that you don’t think about. It’s not going to change the fact that we have to practice tomorrow. It’s not going to change the fact of anything on Saturday. I guess you just let everybody else kind of deal with those things. But I have not been told. I’m not worried about that. I understand if we don’t meet expectations and don’t do the things we need to do, that anything can happen.”
That’s a coach who knows where the bar is supposed to be, and how far short his program has continually fallen.
Three years into the Fickell era, Wisconsin isn’t just struggling to meet expectations; it’s regressed every season he’s been at the helm. The physical, methodical identity that once defined the Badgers has eroded, replaced by inconsistency, self-inflicted mistakes, and an offense that far too often looks incompetent. The frustration across the fanbase is widespread, and the whispers about Fickell’s future have grown louder.
Wisconsin is now 15–18 under Fickell and losers of two straight by a combined score of 71–0. The Badgers have been shut out in back-to-back games for the first time since 1977 and remain winless (0–9) against opponents ranked inside the Top 25 during his tenure. It’s also been more than a calendar year since Wisconsin last beat a Power Four opponent or won a conference game under Fickell, a streak that dates back to Oct. 19, 2024, against Northwestern.
That’s a far cry from what anyone envisioned when they hired the former Cincinnati head coach, who took the Bearcats to the College Football Playoff, to help modernize the program.
But make no mistake, Wisconsin athletic director Chris McIntosh isn’t joining the contingent of people calling for change. Instead, McIntosh sent a letter to Wisconsin fans that read like a public endorsement.
“I share in the disappointment with this football season to date; it has fallen well short of our standards,” McIntosh wrote. “At Wisconsin, we do not shy away from setting lofty expectations - for our teams, our coaches, and for myself. We embrace them and accept the responsibility of meeting those goals. While our coaches, staff, and student-athletes continue to demonstrate the work ethic and values that represent UW Football, the results simply are not where any of us want them to be.
“Coach Fickell sees the potential in what this team can be, as do I, and he shares the same disappointment and frustration.”
He went on to outline plans for greater support through infrastructure.
“With the support and significant involvement of Chancellor Mnookin, Athletics is committed to elevating the investment into our football program to position us to compete at the highest level,” McIntosh wrote.
“As a department, we must provide our coaches with the tools necessary to succeed. That means more Athletics-funded investments into infrastructure, staffing, and, most importantly, student-athlete recruiting and retention. In this new era of collegiate athletics, the clear reality is that high expectations must be matched with an equal level of support. The results of this elevated support may not be immediate, but we are confident that the impact will be positive and long-term.”
That’s not the tone of a man bracing for change. It’s the sound of an athletic department trying to sell patience, or maybe just buy time.
Because let’s be honest: the buyout matters here. Fickell’s contract is the most expensive in school history. Firing him would still cost Wisconsin north of $25 million. So, while McIntosh’s letter to the fanbase may have been framed around loyalty and belief, it’s also shaded by math and pragmatism. Wisconsin can’t afford to swing the axe yet, financially.
In the context of college football, public letters like this one usually say more between the lines than in them. McIntosh didn’t just defend his head coach; he reaffirmed his vision for the entire program. That’s about as close to a public vote of confidence as you’ll get in this sport, though it’s worth noting that you don’t often see two of them in the same season.
That reality speaks less to unshakable faith in Fickell and more to necessity. Wisconsin simply can’t afford to eat a $25 million buyout for a coach whose team is currently tied for last in the Big Ten standings.
Fickell, for his part, seemed appreciative of the backing but felt like a man trying to keep his head down amid chaos rather than revel in reassurance.
“He didn’t have to put a letter out for me to know,” Fickell said. “I think obviously for a lot of others to know, but having honest conversations with him throughout this entire process is something that you know keeps me in the right frame of mind and the right headspace.
“There’s never been a waver here of knowing who’s got your back. We all have the same expectations. Chris McIntosh and I can talk honestly and openly about where we are and where we have made mistakes and things like that. And for me, that’s probably the healthiest thing that I’ve got going.”
He may not often have answers, and his team rarely looks prepared, but Fickell’s never been one to hide from results. He knows the scoreboard doesn’t lie. Right now, Wisconsin is telling a story no one wants to read.
Fickell inherited a program that wasn’t broken, just stagnant. Paul Chryst won 72% of his games at Wisconsin, going 67–26 across eight seasons, and delivered consistent bowl appearances and Top 25 finishes.
But since Fickell arrived in 2023, that foundation has crumbled. He had to scratch and claw just to reach a bowl in his first season at UW, finishing 7–5. Year 2 brought a 5–7 collapse that snapped the Badgers’ 22-year bowl streak, and Year 3 has seen everything sink even lower after a pathetic 2–5 start.
Wisconsin’s not trending down. The program is in a full-on free fall.
The Badgers’ offense has stalled out entirely, and it’s among the worst in program history. Their defense looks exhausted from carrying the load, and the locker room’s confidence has been tested by two straight weeks of embarrassment. They’ll now travel west to face No. 6 Oregon, a team loaded with NFL talent and everything Wisconsin is trying to become, in a game that could further expose the program’s gap from the sport’s elite.
Behind the scenes, the tone mirrors McIntosh’s letter: frustration mixed with realism. People around the program have shared that Wisconsin’s administration understands the risk of another coaching change so soon after Chryst’s firing, especially after pouring millions into upgrades.
Wisconsin has invested in a new practice facility, installed heated turf at Camp Randall to host potential College Football Playoff games, and even redesigned the South end zone seating to drive more revenue.
But for all that, there’s a growing realization inside the building: the Badgers weren’t ahead of the curve in this new NIL-driven world. Not even close. If Wisconsin wants to compete in the Big Ten’s new era, not just tread water, it has to start investing like a serious football program.
Right now, the results on the field reflect a lack of foresight, and the athletic department is still figuring out what it’s up against. They don’t want to become another program stuck in the endless cycle of firing, resetting, and never building anything sustainable. But stability alone won’t fix this. It’s getting harder to attract talent when you’re not offering the same up-front assurances other schools are in this pay-for-play era.
Wisconsin’s staff can talk about development and culture all it wants. Still, offering incentive-based deals only goes so far when recruits and transfers on the open market are staring at guaranteed money elsewhere.
It may have taken the football program’s bottoming out under Fickell for the university to finally realize it’s time to play catch-up. And to McIntosh’s credit, his letter hinted at that shift in tone. When he wrote, “The clear reality is that high expectations must be matched with an equal level of support. The results of this elevated support may not be immediate, but we are confident that the impact will be positive and long-term,” it sounded less like reassurance and more like an acknowledgment that Wisconsin is only now waking up to what it truly takes to compete.
In other words, this is going to take time, and that’s where the tension lies. It’s hard to justify doubling down on a coach who hasn’t shown he can maximize the talent already in the building or even field a consistently competitive team. From the outside, it feels less like belief and more like a bridge. Wisconsin knows it needs time to catch up, but it also doesn’t want to foot the bill to start over. Paying out Fickell’s buyout, then turning around and funding another high-priced hire, would be a tough sell for an athletic department still trying to figure out how to compete with the sport’s heavyweights financially. It almost feels like Fickell’s the sacrificial lamb while Wisconsin figures out how to operate like a big-time program.
That said, there are bigger issues here than just roster construction. The coaching, development, and lack of week-to-week preparation have all felt off dramatically since Fickell arrived. And now, Wisconsin’s stuck in the bed it made. By firing a proven head coach in Chryst and handing out a massive, guarantee-heavy deal to his replacement, the administration boxed itself in. Any future coach would’ve demanded the same security. That’s not bad luck, that’s the cost of their own impatience.
McIntosh and Chancellor Mnookin are investing in Fickell, promising to give him a better chance to succeed. But the problem is that patience has an expiration date. Buyout or not, you can’t justify keeping around Fickell long-term if the product on the field keeps looking like this.
More time and money don’t guarantee buy-in.
At some point, Wisconsin has to decide what kind of program it wants to be, not just in budget or facilities, but in ambition. The Big Ten’s future isn’t waiting for anyone. Oregon, Michigan, and Ohio State are playing a completely different game, both on and off the field. Whether Fickell survives long enough to see this rebuild through might ultimately be irrelevant.
What matters is whether Wisconsin finally learns from the mess it created, because the next move will define more than a season. It’ll determine whether the Badgers remain a proud but fading brand, or finally start acting like the program they still believe themselves to be.
If this season ends the way it’s trending, there will be questions, fair ones, about whether Wisconsin’s patience is loyalty or denial. But for now, the message from the top is unmistakable: Fickell is still McIntosh’s guy, and Wisconsin is choosing to build around him rather than start over again.
What was once sold as a home-run hire has turned into a cautionary tale of how fragile optimism can be when the results don’t come. For now, Wisconsin’s staying the course. It’s the hand they’ve chosen to play, and until something changes, Luke Fickell’s still the one holding the cards.
“I bleed red and white,” McIntosh wrote, “and I will not rest in the pursuit of our goals: fielding championship-caliber teams and delivering the pride and joy of success to a new generation of Badgers. You have my unrelenting commitment to do what is necessary to make that happen.”
We appreciate you taking the time to read our work at BadgerNotes.com. Your support means the world to us and has helped us become a leading independent source for Wisconsin Badgers coverage.
You can also follow Site Publisher Dillon Graff at @DillonGraff on X.
Fire Macintosh
Chryst was a proven head coach in the old world. The program was decaying under him in the new world.