Bill Moos wants to tell you about the time he met Mike Leach.
It was November 2011, and Washington State's second-year athletic director boarded an airplane — and another airplane and nother airplane — in search of sizzle. Moos had just fired fourth-year coach Paul Wulff, who compiled a 9-40 record in four unsavory seasons. The cratering Cougars hadn't sniffed a winning record (let alone a bowl game) since 2003.
Moos — a native of nearby Edwall, the son of WSU alums and a former Coug offensive tackle (1969-72) — understood what the program was capable of.
And the depths of its descent.
"There are a lot of people that know Washington State very well, but I don't think any know it better than me," Moos, 71, said Tuesday. "I grew up there. I played there. I worked there ... and we were in bad shape. We had apathy in the fan base, a defeatist attitude, subpar facilities. My to-do list was addressing all those things, especially the facilities piece. We built $150 million worth of football facilities when I got there. So we had that in place, but we needed some sizzle."
No one lit a fuse faster than Leach.
The lifelong football nonconformist — who died of complications from a heart condition Monday at age 61 — developed his air raid offense alongside head coach Hal Mumme at Iowa Wesleyan (1989-91), Valdosta State (1992-96) and Kentucky (1997-98) before making a one-season stop at Oklahoma in 1999. Leach became famous as the sword-swinging, quote-slinging coach at Texas Tech, where he went 84-43 before being controversially fired in 2009.
Leach brought baggage ... as well as overwhelming offense.
With passes and points, he peddled sizzle.
"I was impressed and intrigued with the way he coached and of course with his success at Texas Tech," Moos said. "But I had not met him before and had really never talked to him until I flew to Key West and had our visit down there.
"As you would expect, there are no direct flights from Pullman to Key West. So it was six or seven hours just to get there and at least two or three layovers."
Once he landed, Moos settled in a hotel suite near Leach's home to conduct the interview. He prepared renderings of WSU's facilities projects and drawings of their new Nike uniforms to present the prospective coach. Through an intermediary, he set a casual dress code.
Meaning: no necktie necessary.
"So when I got the knock on the door I went and opened it, and here's Mike Leach in flip-flops, cargo shorts and a V-neck white T-shirt," Moos said with a laugh. "He had a Styrofoam coffee cup. I said, 'Hey, did you find a place to park? The parking lot was jam packed.'
"He goes, 'I don't own a car. I rode my bike.' "
From there, they were off and running.
And, like a typical job interview, Leach provided a list of references.
"Within five minutes, the topic had changed — due to him — to Winston Churchill, George Patton, Geronimo, snowblowers in Cody, Wyoming. It was all over the place," Moos continued. "I thought, 'Man, this is either going to be a great hire, or it's going to be the end of Cougar football — and me.'
"Fortunately, it was the former."
In eight seasons in Pullman — from 2012 to 2019 — Leach went 55-47, reaching five consecutive bowl games. He led the Cougs to an 11-2 record in 2018, and was twice named Pac-12 Coach of the Year.
Leach was stubborn and brilliant and uncompromising, a take-it-or-leave-it tsunami of simultaneously simple and indefensible offense. He was constantly curious, imperfect and unwilling to change. He was all of these things at once.
"He never altered his approach. What Mississippi State saw in Mike Leach is what Texas Tech saw and what I saw," Moos said. "He never had a playbook. He had 15 or 16 plays that he demanded that his players ran to perfection, and then offshoots of those as audibles on the line of scrimmage. But you need to have players. It took two, three years to get to that point.
"When he got there we had six offensive linemen on scholarship, and only three probably deserved to be. Within three years we had over 20, and they were the prototypes. They were 6-5, 290, mean, fast kind of players that you can build an offense around."
Few have built offenses better. Speaking of, Moos joked that "I had to build a $90 million football complex to get him out of Bohler Gym (where Moos' office was located), because if he'd come into my office it was three or four hours every time. And it was fascinating, but only about 10 percent of it was football."
Their friendship was built on everything else. When Moos abruptly left to become Nebraska's athletic director in 2017, Leach was "devastated," but the two kept in touch. Moos, Leach and their wives vacationed together in the Bahamas for a week in 2018. Leach invited Moos to visit Key West via text message three days before he died.
"It was tough, because not only do I have a lot of admiration for him, but he was a great friend," Moos, who retired last year, said. "Kendra (Moos' wife) and I were friends with Sharon (Leach's wife) and their kids. I watched them grow up. The younger ones went to school with my younger kids.
"He was only 61. That's 10 years younger than me. That's far too early. He was a champion. He was an innovator. But I also think there was a time coming soon when he was going to exit the profession and enjoy a retirement, and he just didn't get there, and I feel bad about that. Really, it was a wake-up call to me and a lot of others to be thankful for every day that we're fortunate enough to live and take care of ourselves and appreciate friendships like that. Because at the end of the day, that's what life's all about."
Their friendship started with a pair of flip-flops and cargo shorts.
It extended far beyond football at Washington State.
"When we walked to the door after close to four hours in the room (during that first meeting), I had a manila envelope that I had prepared for him, that talked about my experience and expertise in my position," Moos recalled. "I said, 'This is for you to get to know about me a little bit.' And he said, 'No, I don't need that. I know all about you, and any coach would love to work for Bill Moos. It would be an honor for me, too.'
"That showed that we could have a great relationship and move the dial in regards to our football program. And indeed we did."
