Curt Cignetti isn’t the kind of coach who begs for attention. He doesn’t need flashy slogans, viral soundbites, or sideline theatrics. What he does need—and what he’s always had—is a plan. And wherever he goes, that plan tends to work.
If you trace Cignetti’s career, a pattern shows up fast: inherit a program with low expectations, install discipline, demand accountability, win games. Repeat.
That didn’t start at the Power Five level. It started in places most fans barely paid attention to.
Before Indiana, before James Madison, before the national buzz, Curt Cignetti was grinding. At IUP, he turned a Division II program into a consistent winner. At Elon, he took a team that had never been to the FCS playoffs and got them there. When James Madison hired him in 2019, some people shrugged. By the time he left, nobody was shrugging anymore.
JMU didn’t just win under Cignetti—they dominated. Conference titles. Playoff runs. A seamless jump from FCS to FBS. An undefeated regular season in their first year at the FBS level. That doesn’t happen by accident. That happens when a coach knows exactly what he wants and refuses to compromise on it.
What makes Cignetti different isn’t some revolutionary scheme. It’s clarity. Players know where they stand. Assistants know what’s expected. Practices are organized. Games are managed with intent. There’s very little chaos, and in college football, that alone gives you an edge.
He’s also blunt—sometimes refreshingly so. Cignetti doesn’t dance around goals. He’s on record saying things like, “I win. Google me.” To some, that sounds arrogant. To others, it sounds like confidence earned the hard way. The truth is probably closer to the second one. When you’ve rebuilt program after program, eventually you stop apologizing for believing in yourself.
That attitude is exactly why Indiana took a chance on him.
Indiana football hasn’t had much reason for swagger over the years. The program has struggled to find consistency, identity, and momentum in a brutal Big Ten landscape. Hiring Cignetti wasn’t about winning a press conference. It was about finding someone who could stabilize the floor before trying to raise the ceiling.
Cignetti brings credibility instantly. Not because of where he coached, but because of what he did there.
He’s also old-school in a way that feels oddly modern now. He emphasizes toughness. He values experience. He develops players instead of cycling through them. In the transfer portal era, that matters. Players don’t just want NIL deals—they want structure, honesty, and a staff that knows how to win.
Will Curt Cignetti turn Indiana into a national power overnight? No. And he’d probably laugh at the question. But can he make Indiana competitive, respected, and hard to play every single week? Absolutely. He’s done harder jobs with fewer resources.
The thing about Cignetti is that he doesn’t promise magic. He promises work. He promises standards. He promises that if you buy in, the results will come. That message resonates with players who are tired of empty hype.
In a sport obsessed with the next big thing, Curt Cignetti feels like a correction. A reminder that substance still matters. That winning habits still matter. That the loudest voice in the room isn’t always the one worth listening to.
Sometimes, the best hire is the one who’s been doing it right all along—quietly stacking wins, building cultures, and waiting for the next challenge.
Indiana found that guy.
And if history is any indication, Curt Cignetti will do exactly what he’s always done: show up, get to work, and win more games than people expect.