Connor Stalions Appears More Guilty Than Innocent in Netflix Documentary

The just-released Netflix documentary on Connor Stalions makes clear that the former Michigan football staffer and accused signal-stealer will die a happy man, because his Wolverines won the 2023 national championship.

Whether Stalions dies an innocent man is less certain, but the 90-minute Netflix doc that came out Tuesday nudges that answer toward “probably not.” If Stalions’ purpose in letting Netflix tell his side of the cheating scandal was to help prove his innocence, well, it backfired. My reaction after watching? The “proof” is more self-incriminating than exonerating. The more he talks, the more the former Marine sounds guilty, especially when telling an NCAA investigator during a video call that “I don’t recall attending” the Central Michigan game against Michigan State last season.

He doesn’t recall? Stalions currently serves as defensive coordinator at a Detroit High School, but with that answer he belongs in politics.

The Central Michigan “mystery,” in which someone who looks like Stalions was spotted on the CMU sideline, possibly performing advance scouting that violates NCAA rules, remains the smoking gun in this espionage case that includes elements of the real-life 1970s Watergate scandal and the make-believe Kevin Costner spy movie “No Way Out,” in which Stalions is the faithful soldier who, at the last minute, is cast aside by the man he worships, in this case, Jim Harbaugh.

“That was the last time I heard from anyone,” Stalions says of being cut off from the UM program after resigning Nov. 3.

Yet, instead of turning bitter, Stalions doubles down on his allegiance to the team he grew up cheering. His loyalty permeates the documentary, so much so that one gets the impression Stalions has convinced himself he has done nothing wrong, or at least nothing that can’t be forgiven by Michigan fans.

“I exploit the rules. I don’t break them,” he says, proudly.

In other words, Stalions is just smarter than the code-breakers at the other schools he claims are stealing opponents’ signals, which also tends to be how elitist UM fans choose to see the scandal: “We’re Michigan. We built a better mousetrap. We’re smarter than you. Deal with it.”

There is too much in “Untold: Sign Stealer” to unpack here, but a few more observations:

Netflix began filming last season, showing Stalions watching in person from NRG Stadium in Houston as UM wins the national championship against Washington. The documentary does a good job at presenting all sides, but I winced watching some of the so-called journalists defend Stalions and/or Michigan. That said, kudos to Detroit News reporter Tony Paul for telling it like it is and not giving in to the growing fanboy media attitude that stains this business.

As the purported mastermind behind Michigan’s alleged sign-stealing scheme, Stalions comes off as both extremely intelligent but also incredibly obsessed with his love for and allegiance to UM football. It becomes plain there was nothing he would not do to help the Wolverines win.

“I would do the same thing over again,” Stalions says into the camera at the end.

Do what again, you ask? Great question. While not an admission of guilt, the comment left me with the real sense that Stalions believes playing within the rules is not how you win football games.

“Football is similar to the art of war,” Stalions says, the insinuation being that all is fair is in love (of Michigan) and war (against UM’s enemies).

Ohio State fans will get especially worked up when hearing Stalions explain how he knew he was smart enough to decipher opponents’ signals.

“I gotta be smarter than the guys on the field, especially at Ohio State, no offense,” he says, speaking of his first time deciphering signals, as a volunteer on Navy’s staff when the Midshipmen played Ohio State in 2014.

The oddest misstep by Netflix involves an Ohio State fan, known as Brohio, who makes well-reasoned accusations against Stalions but whose relevance is never explained. Masked to conceal his identity, the fan serves no purpose beyond questioning Stalions’ motives and methods. Was he involved in hacking Stalions’ computer files, as Stalions suggests happened, implying someone at Ohio State was involved? Was he instrumental in turning Michigan into the NCAA? It never is made clear.

Fascinating to hear Stalions explain the system of deciphering and impressive how hard he worked at collecting and learning other teams’ signals. It also was a little spooky hearing the extremes he went to so UM would have a better chance at winning.

“I was stationed in California and anything I was tasked with I treated as if my life was depending on it,” he said.

As Paul described it, Stalions “had so much drive, maybe too much drive.”

When Stalions began stealing signals for Michigan, the Wolverines were “at the bottom of the intelligence operations totem pole,” he said. “But you don’t know if you’re at the bottom if you don’t have a guy focused on that.”

Stalions offered that 80 or 90% of college FCS programs have an intelligence operations staff, and when he began he figured, “They can’t be better than I can be at this.”

Michigan fan Dave Portnoy, who founded Barstool Sports, said he knows Stalions was on the CMU sideline in last season’s opener against Michigan State because “he told me” it was him.

Viewers will note that Stalions, when shown a picture of the mysterious CMU sideline man, remarks, “That doesn’t even look like me,” which is not a denial as much as confirmation that the disguise worked.

My final takeaway? Stalions fancied himself as much more intelligent than others. Maybe so. He definitely was more over-the-top obsessed than most. And that is a combustible cocktail. Left to its own devices – and Michigan allowed it – idol worship mixed with ego eventually blows up into crossing lines, breaking rules, and cheating, all in the name of serving your master.

“They dragged my name in the mud. They dragged Michigan’s name in the mud, for months,” Stalions said.

Feel sorry for him? For UM? Nope. Getting muddy is what happens when you play dirty.

Source: The Columbus Dispatch