Triple exit

 Nick Saban.

Bill Belichick.

Pete Carroll.

That's a hell of a 24 hours, boys and girls, and, quick, let's run back Pete's "Let's Disappear Marshawn Lynch" play against Bill, just for nostalgia's sake. Those were the days, by golly. Pete calling a pass instead of a run down on the goal line with the Super Bowl in the balance ... Malcolm Butler delivering Bill another ring with the ensuing interception ...  

Ah, memories.

And now, only memories, with Pete being kicked upstairs by the Seahawks, and Bill reportedly stepping down after 24 spangled seasons with the Patriots, and Saban announcing his retirement as the undisputed champeen of college football coaches.

They're all in their 70s now, so I guess this day had to come. But not, you know, the same day.

It leaves us a truckload of legacy to unpack, and let's start with Saban. The man won seven national titles, including six at Alabama, where not even Saint Bear of Bryant eclipses him. In fact, Bear was a warmup act for the real thing, when you get down to brass tacks. He's probably up there on his heavenly perch right now, saying, "Wish I coulda done all that."

Naturally, Saban retiring now invites speculation, as these things will. Did the torn landscape of college football these days -- NIL money dictating all, and the perpetual free agency of the unfettered transfer portal -- hasten his exit? Or, at 72, did he just decide it was time to hand over the whistle?

He has, after all, been coaching football in some capacity for 50 of those 72 years, and that's a good run for anyone. If the migraine headache that is college football in 2023 -- in which you not only have to recruit, but have to constantly keep recruiting the players you already have -- made that run seem even longer, so be it. The man's legacy is as secure as a legacy gets, and he's more than earned his rest.

Carroll and Belichick, meanwhile, are 72 and 71, respectively, so maybe it was time for them, too. Neither is leaving entirely on his own hook, of course; Carroll moving into an advisory capacity is an especially clear indication ownership thought it had wrung all the coaching juice out of him it could.

As for Belichick ...

Let's face it: He hasn't been the same Darth Hoodie genius since Tom Brady went south in search of sunshine. Mac Jones has never become the successor Belichick thought he might be. And as GM, Belichick has been spectacularly bad at finding talent, which culminated in this season's 3-14 collapse.

Nowhere was that collapse more starkly evident than in Belichick's last game, played in a snowstorm in Foxborough. The woeful Jets, whom Belichick has owned for years like  the Roadrunner owns Wile E. Coyote, beat the Patriots 17-3. Jones, benched a few games back for the supremely undistinguished Bailey Zappe, never saw the field. What did see was a Patriots offense that generated just six first downs, 119 total yards and 2.1 yards per play.

From Tom Brady and six Super Bowl rings to Bailey Zappe and six first downs. That's a hell of a tumble off a hell of a cliff.

But the magic held for a good long time, for Belichick and Saban especially. Spygate and Deflategate and Belichick's grumbly public persona notwithstanding, he departs as the most accomplished coach in NFL history, and the man who oversaw its last true dynasty. His 24 seasons in Foxborough have as few equals as Saban's 17 in Tuscaloosa.

(My best Belichick story: On Media Day for the Super Bowl in Indy in 2012, some Boston radio guy kept hollering at Belichick. "Bill! Bill!" he shouted, waving a red plastic tricorn hat at Darth Hoodie. "Put this on!" To which Belichick, with spot-on Belichick-ean disdain, rumbled "No, I'm not gonna do that.")

Carroll, on the other hand, has a more complicated legacy. He steps away with a Super Bowl ring from 2014, but a lot of smart guys think he ran off Russell Wilson, and even more smart guys think he blew that aforementioned Super Bowl to Belichick. It's been pretty beige since the former, and even more beige since the latter.

And yet ...

And yet, Carroll, Saban and Belichick. All in the same 24 hours.

Exit, Stage Right never saw a more spotlit day.