Popular Netflix series faces criticism

Let’s just get the awkward part out of the way now: I’m a native of Columbus, Ohio and Ohio State alum with my own preconceived notions about Connor Stalions, the alleged sign-stealing guru who i̶s̶ t̶h̶e̶ s̶o̶l̶e r̶e̶a̶s̶o̶n̶ M̶i̶c̶h̶i̶g̶a̶n̶ w̶o̶n̶ t̶h̶e̶ n̶a̶t̶i̶o̶n̶a̶l̶ t̶i̶t̶l̶e̶ allegedly orchestrated the sign-stealing scandal that engulfed the Wolverines’ run to last season’s national championship.

I’m a big believer that biases based on our own life experiences — including where we grew up and went to school — are inevitable, so it’s better to address them head on than to pretend like they don’t exist. And yet, despite being raised in a family that bleeds scarlet and gray, there were multiple points during the latest installment of Netflix’s Untold in which I found myself feeling bad for Stalions, who is the central figure of the latest installment of the quasi-docuseries about some of the most controversial subjects in sports.

I say “quasi” because the term “docuseries” implies the presence of journalism. And while there is some of that in Untold: Sign Stealer , the series remains more focused on storytelling than being the fourth estate.

Now in its fourth season, Untold clearly does two things exceptionally well: selecting interesting subjects and spinning them into concise, convenient narratives, as messy as the real story might actually be. That’s how I found myself feeling sympathetic for Stalions, despite my previous — and admittedly hyperbolic — belief that he was the mastermind behind the biggest non-criminal scandal in college sports history.

Those moments I felt sorry for Stalions were fleeting, however, and not (just) because a lot of Sign Stealer focused on the Wolverines’ historic 2023 campaign. Rather, as was the case watching previous episodes such as Swamp Kings and Johnny Football , I found myself more annoyed with Untold than anything else.

Having previously abstained from the spotlight (sans for a few Barstool cameos ), Sign Stealer is very much The Connor Stalions Story, providing the first first-hand account of college football’s most (only?) notorious sideline spy. And Untold certainly paints Stalions in a kind, maize and blue-tinted light, illustrating him as the child of a Wolverines-obsessed family who had his sights set on becoming Michigan’s head coach before he could even walk.

For anyone who followed the Stalions story as it broke in real time last fall, this was largely stuff that was already known — another criticism I have of most Untold episodes. Still, even for someone like me who grew up singing “the Buckeye Battle Cry,” there was something endearing about seeing real footage of a toddler-aged Stalions dressing as Bo Schembechler for Halloween, oversized headphones and all.

The entire first act of Sign Stealer is dedicated to Stalions’ upbringing, which saw him enroll at the Naval Academy because he realized that so many great head coaches had military backgrounds. It doesn’t take long to get to the sign-stealing part, as that was the first mission he was tasked with as a volunteer coach for the Midshipmen, which was presented to him as an off-the-cuff suggestion from another staffer when he asked how he should spend his gamedays.

How convenient.

From there, Stalions lands a coveted spot as a volunteer on Michigan’s staff under Jim Harbaugh, routinely traveling from his station in California to aid the Wolverines on gameday. Through it all, he’s painted as a determined and football-obsessed up-and-comer with a special knack for deciphering opponents’ signals, which the episode repeatedly (and accurately) points out is legal to do from the opposing sideline or by watching game film.

Stalions isn’t the only figure portrayed sympathetically, as the Michigan program is presented as a once-dominant power that has since fallen behind. Only it isn’t Lloyd Carr, Rich Rodriguez or Brady Hoke (or Jim Tressel and Urban Meyer for that matter) who are blamed for the Wolverines’ demise. Rather, Locked On Wolverines podcast host Isaiah Hole alleges that other teams were stealing Michigan’s signs. As the narrative would have you believe, Stalions’ sign-stealing wasn’t just beneficial to the Wolverines; it was necessary for them to just keep pace in the cutthroat world of college football.

That may be the case, but the episode would have benefitted from having some more neutral voices, especially early on. Again, we all have our biases. But the entire first third of episode is spent presenting Stalions as the antagonist heading into the murkier part of the story.

That part arrives as news of the Stalions scandal breaks amid the 2023 season, sending the once-anonymous staffer’s life into a tailspin. Amid the chaos, he hires a lawyer and opts to resign — “He said, ‘I’ll throw myself on the grenade for the school. I love it that much,'” his attorney says — only to be abandoned by the program he had seemingly dedicated his life to.

“That was the last time I ever heard from anyone,” a solemn Stalions says while sitting in a parking lot outside Michigan Stadium.

That was the part where I felt the most bad for Stalions, although my sympathy quickly evolved into annoyance. Rather than laying out the facts of the allegations of an admittedly complicated story, Sign Stealer quickly devolves into a game of “he said, she said” with undertones of “everybody’s doing it” regarding the accusations against Stalions.

In fact, if you weren’t previously familiar with the story, you likely found yourself wondering “what’s the big deal?” since the allegations that Stalions had purchased tickets and paid for acquaintances to attend games of future opponents to film their sidelines are ultimately treated like a footnote until fully being addressed in the second half of the episode. And even when they are addressed, Stalions is given the platform to haphazardly explain himself unchecked, claiming he was merely a big college football fan who purchased tickets to a lot of games and gave them away to friends — a seemingly expensive hobby for a low level staffer just a few years removed from sleeping in his car while renting out his apartment as an AirBNB.

At one point, Stalions even admits his friends sent him sideline footage from the games they attended on his dime, but claims they only did so on their own accord as a “thank you” for the tickets, which he likened to receiving a Christmas gift he had already received since he knew the signs anyways. He even points to the fact that his mother attended a game at Purdue as proof that this wasn’t a part of his scheme, as if it’s that far-fetched that his Michigan-crazed mother (her words, not mine) would be capable of shooting footage from her iPhone.

In fact, the only point in which it’s made evident that Stalions isn’t being fully honest comes as he’s being confronted about the infamous picture of him seemingly standing in disguise on the Central Michigan sideline. After Barstool Sports’ Dave Portnoy — another pro-Michigan/Stalions character witness — admits that Connor told him it was him in the picture, the episode cuts to Stalions denying as much to the series’ producers.

The final act of Sign Stealer descends into total chaos, highlighted by the unfounded conspiracy that Ohio State head coach Ryan Day wasn’t only behind the independent investigation that tipped the NCAA off to Stalions’ activity, but that said investigation obtained its evidence by illegally hacking Stalions’ computer. Yet despite platforming what would amount to criminal allegations against Day, the episodes offers no actual proof beyond conjecture from Stalions’ attorney, which is then “validated” by the rantings of Michigan alum Rich Eisen, jokes made on The Dan Patrick Show and the opinion of the Wolverines’ podcaster, Hole, who openly admits he has become personal friends with Stalions since the scandal broke.

If there’s one interview subject featured in Sign Stealer to tell Ohio State’s side of the story, it comes in the form of an anonymous message board poster named “Brohio,” who is cartoonishly dressed in disguise out of fear his family might receive death threats. In one way, Brohio’s presence adds levity and helps illustrate the ridiculous nature of the college football news cycle and its inherent tribalism. But he seemed to ultimately exist to drive home a half-hearted storyline about how message board posters were the ones breaking the real news about the story, which isn’t fully substantiated.

Brohio does, however, seemingly do the best job of describing the duality of Stalions, who appeared to leave incriminating evidence of his sign-stealing scheme on his public Venmo page.

“That’s what’s so fascinating to me about him: you have this military trained guy who’s really really driven and really smart and then really really stupid and sloppy,” the anonymous message board poster says.

In the end, Michigan wins the national title and a somber Stalions watches from he stands — another scene I would have been sympathetic about had I not been disgusted by what he was watching. Altogether, Sign Stealer is filled with more refreshers than revelations, with perhaps the biggest coming in the form of Yahoo’s Dan Wetzel alleging he has obtained evidence of other schools performing similar schemes.

It’s heavily implied, but not explicitly stated that Ohio State is one of those programs.

Despite being nearly 90 minutes long, Sign Stealer leaves several several gaping holes in its narrative, including who was funding what clearly would have been an expensive operation, as Stalions denies any knowledge or connection to t he Michigan booster known as “Uncle T.” It also conveniently fails to even question who else on the Wolverines staff had knowledge of the scheme or was receiving information as a result of it, despite a draft of the NCAA’s notice of allegations linking multiple Michigan staffers — including now-head coach Sherrone Moore — to Stalions.

If the goal of Sign Stealer was to portray Stalions as a complicated — if not sympathetic — lone wolf who was merely doing what everybody else in college football was already doing and he just happened to be the one person to get caught (perhaps because Ohio State hacked his computer), then mission accomplished.

But even taking off my scarlet and gray-tinted glasses, Sign Stealer possesses many of the same flaws that have plagued Untold , especially recently. And much like the 2023 season, I wouldn’t blame Wolverines fans for leaving it feeling like they got away with one.

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