As graduate assistants at Mississippi State, Reed Stringer and Ryan Hollern were at the bottom of Division I-A coaching last season, so low that their most important duty was drawing plays on the quarterback’s wristband, then making sure the words and numbers matched the game plan.

Both were promoted this season because of their dedication, meticulous preparation – and Ricky Williams deciding he’d rather smoke marijuana on various continents than play for the Miami Dolphins last season.

Huh?

Stringer and Hollern were the ninth and 10th beneficiaries in a series of job changes that began with Dave Wannstedt resigning as coach of the Dolphins, a move certainly spurred by Williams’ sudden retirement.

Crazy as it all seems, it makes perfect sense once you follow the tumbling coaching dominos:

Wannstedt was replaced by Nick Saban, opening the top spot at LSU. Les Miles moved over from Oklahoma State, making way for the promotion of offensive coordinator Mike Gundy. He then gave his old job to Larry Fedora, who was offensive coordinator at Illinois.

Illinois filled its vacancy with Florida running-backs coach Mike Locksley – that’s No. 6, in case you lost count – and Stan Drayton replaced him, opening the running-backs post at Mississippi State and bringing this journey across the NFL, SEC, Big 12, Big Ten and SEC again to its final stop, Starkville, Miss.

Mississippi State graduate assistant Ryan Hollern calls out a defensive scheme during practice Tuesday in Starkville, Miss. Coaching changes in the NFL and colleges help propel graduate assistants into the coaching ranks. Hollern was promoted to full-time GA this season.

Mississippi State tight-ends coach Freddie Kitchens was put in charge of running backs, and Stringer took his place, jumping from GA to full-time staffer. Finally, Hollern made the incremental bump from an administrative GA whose only on-field duty was charting plays to actually working with players, such as running one of the scout teams.

“One of the best running backs in the NFL makes a decision to do something, causes a coach to lose his job and, shoot, eight other things happen – that’s why this business is unbelievable,” Stringer said.

Laughing, he added, “The next time Ricky Williams wants to go to another country, maybe I can become a head coach somewhere!”

Of all those who got bumps in salary, the extra money probably means the most to Stringer. Since his promotion, he’s gotten engaged and bought a house, two things he couldn’t have afforded if he was still on a meager GA salary, which he described as “enough to cover rent and bills and to go eat at Wendy’s every day for lunch.”

Hollern still is scraping by, but hardly seems to care. He’s thrilled simply to have a job in the SEC and is amazed to be connected – even this thinly – to folks like Wannstedt, Saban and Miles.

Describing himself as “never really a gifted athlete,” Hollern played quarterback at Division Two Gannon University for two years, then left the team and earned a degree in psychology. He moved to Charlotte, N.C., to be near his brother and got a job as a high school teacher and an assistant football coach.

A few months later, he decided to pursue a master’s degree in sports administration. Mississippi State was the first school to accept him, so he loaded everything he owned into his Ford Focus and began driving west.

Mississippi State tight-ends coach Reed Stringer encourages two linemen during a blocking drill.

“I didn’t know where it was,” he said. “I had to look on a map.”

Once he found Starkville, he rented an apartment and went to the football office the next day, volunteering for any work they could give him.

“Luck was on my side that day,” he said.

Irony, too. Or maybe just another example that six is too many degrees of separation in college coaching.

Jackie Sherrill was the Mississippi State coach who gave him and Stringer their foot-in-the-door opportunities, both in 2003. He’s the same Jackie Sherrill who in 1977 gave Wannstedt the first break in his coaching career.

Wannstedt already was at Pittsburgh, his alma mater, when Sherrill became the head coach. Sherrill turned Wannstedt from graduate assistant to being in charge of receivers and special teams.

Two years later, Wannstedt followed another member of Sherrill’s staff to Oklahoma State. A guy named Jimmy Johnson.

Together, they went on to win a national championship at Miami and a Super Bowl with the Dallas Cowboys. Wannstedt eventually replaced Johnson as coach of the Dolphins and has since come full circle. He’s now the head coach at Pitt.

“The reason I left Pitt and went to Oklahoma State was because I really felt like if I was going to do this thing, I had to get out of the nest,” said Wannstedt, adding that back then he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to coach college or high school, or maybe even get a job in law enforcement. “I packed my wife and daughter in my car and we drove to Stillwater, Okla. And the rest is history.”

Hey, Ryan, sound familiar?

Actually, most head coaches follow a similar path on the way up: Break in with an entry level job, usually as a grad assistant. Prove to be a hard worker, then get a better job through someone they know or a friend of a friend – “the good ol’ boy network.” Then move several times, keeping change-of-address forms so handy they could be bookmarks in their playbook.

“When you get the next opportunity and you take it, obviously that creates opportunities for other people,” Saban said. “Those who can take advantage of those probably have the same kind of attitude that I’ve always had. They’ve done a good job wherever they are and people are interested in them because of it.”

Stringer’s story combines all those elements, plus a brilliant bit of chutzpah.

Sherrill hired him on the recommendation of offensive line coach Steve Campbell, who’d been the head coach at Delta State in 2000 when the team won the Division Two title with Stringer starting at left tackle.

Having grown up a Mississippi State fan, Stringer couldn’t get there fast enough. He worked hard to impress his bosses, then felt back at square one when Sherrill resigned and was replaced by Sylvester Croom of the Green Bay Packers.

Stringer was worried he might not get to stay, so he devised a way to get noticed by Croom, which wasn’t easy since the Packers still were playing and he was flying in and out of town regularly.

Stringer realized Croom needed a ride to and from the airport, so he volunteered to be his chauffeur. That gave them quality time alone together several times a week for about three weeks, albeit often around 5 a.m.

“I just wanted him to see me and know that I’m Reed Stringer and to know that football is important to me,” Stringer said. “People can say it’s brown-nosing and sucking up, but, hey, I got to know him, and he kept me around. I went to business school, and I know business is business. I saw an opportunity and took it.”

Now he’s 26 and already a position coach in the SEC. Even without Ricky Williams’ help, Stringer believes he can one day run his own program – which, of course, would set off another set of coaching dominos.

“It’s all about building relationships and not burning bridges,” he said. “You never know who might want to hire you one day or who you might want to hire.”