Nick Sirianni is using ChatGPT for motivational speeches now

Nick Sirianni discovered ChatGPT this offseason, and he told everybody about it.

That’s the part I have a problem with.

According to Zach Berman of The Athletic, Nick Sirianni logged into the chatbot on a Monday in June and typed in a prompt: “Give me a great relentless effort true sports story.” He didn’t even know the name of the thing. He called it “ChatGP” in a roundtable interview and asked reporters to fill in the letters. That’s how the AI rabbit hole led him to Anthony Robles, the Arizona State wrestler born with one leg who won a national championship in 2011. New speech material for Year 6.

Look, on the merits? Fine. Whatever works.

Sirianni’s been standing in front of this locker room for five years. Only seven players remain from the day he gave his Emil Zatopek speech in Year 1. The “tough, detailed, together” mantra has been run into the ground. If a guy needs a chatbot to dig up a wrestling story he’s never heard of so the message lands fresh, I genuinely do not care. Coaching is recycling old ideas in new packaging. Every coach does it. Nick Sirianni just found a faster shovel.

The problem is he said it out loud.

Nick Sirianni handed the media a loaded gun

Here’s the thing about being the Eagles head coach: everything you say in July becomes evidence in December.

Nick Sirianni is entering Year 6 coming off a season that got his offensive coordinator fired. Eleven wins, an NFC East title, one-and-done in the playoffs, and in this city, that’s an underachievement. Kevin Patullo is gone. Jeff Stoutland is gone. AJ Brown is gone. Sean Mannion, a first-time coordinator, is installing a brand new offense. The margin for error here is razor thin, and Sirianni knows it better than anyone.

So why on earth would you tell a room full of reporters that your new motivational material comes from an AI prompt?

If the Eagles start 5-1, nobody remembers this. But if they’re 2-4 in October and the locker room looks flat, every columnist in America has the lede pre-written: the head coach outsourced his inspiration to a chatbot he couldn’t name. Talk radio will run it into the dirt. The back pages will have a field day. It becomes shorthand for a coach out of ideas, whether that’s fair or not.

And it’s probably not fair! That’s the annoying part. The actual substance of what Nick Sirianni is doing this offseason is solid. Team dinners. Bowling. Basketball at St. Joe’s. A cookout for families. He watched the NBA and NHL playoffs and came away preaching that championship teams refuse to let each other down. That’s a coach doing the job.

Nobody would blink at any of it. The ChatGPT thing is the only quote with teeth, and he volunteered it.

The scrutiny is already here

Berman’s piece lays out the pattern: Sirianni’s approval rating swings like a pendulum. Great in 2022. Grating in 2023. Redeemed after Super Bowl LIX. Under the microscope again now.

The man’s résumé is genuinely absurd, only Vince Lombardi and John Madden have a higher winning percentage among coaches with at least 50 games. Both are in Canton. Sirianni’s one slow September from hot seat articles.

He knows the expectations. His exact words when asked about them: “Fuck yeah, it’s high.” And when asked whether he should be appreciated more, he shrugged it off, who gives a shit, and so on. Good answer. That’s the calloused, Philly-broken-in version of Nick Sirianni, and it’s the right posture for Year 6.

Which is exactly why the ChatGPT admission is so strange. The same guy who’s learned not to hand this market ammunition just handed this market ammunition. Free of charge. With a smile.

Do the AI homework, Nick. Steal the wrestling story. Give the speech. Just keep the sourcing to yourself next time.

Camp opens July 28. Clock’s running.