The end of an era in the NFL rarely comes with a single, dramatic moment. It’s usually a slow burn-an accumulation of signs that, when pieced together, tell you change is coming. For Mike Tomlin and the Pittsburgh Steelers, Sunday may have delivered one of those rare afternoons where everything came into focus in real time.
Let’s start with the atmosphere. When Steelers fans booed the playing of “Renegade”-the team’s long-standing rally cry-it wasn’t just about a song.
That moment felt like a symbolic breaking point. And what followed on the field only deepened the sense that something foundational had cracked.
Pittsburgh’s defense, long the franchise’s signature under Tomlin, got steamrolled by a Bills offense that was down multiple offensive linemen and running a limited playbook. The Steelers gave up a run that set a new stadium record for rushing yards allowed.
In a place where defense is part of the DNA, that’s not just a bad day-it’s a gut punch.
This wasn’t just a one-off meltdown. It was the kind of unraveling that reflects deeper issues-issues that fans have been whispering about for a while now.
The Steelers haven’t quite felt like the Steelers in recent years. And while Tomlin’s job security has often felt untouchable, it’s fair to ask whether both sides might benefit from a fresh start.
Tomlin is under contract through 2027, and he’s not just any coach. He’s a Super Bowl champion, a respected leader, and the architect of nearly two decades of competitive football.
He’s never had a losing season. That kind of consistency is rare.
But since 2017, the Steelers haven’t made it past the divisional round of the playoffs. And since 2021, they’ve hovered around the middle of the pack defensively-15th in EPA per play allowed-and went into Sunday’s blowout loss sitting 22nd.
That’s a far cry from the dominant units Steelers fans are used to.
Offensively, it’s been more of the same. Since 2021, Pittsburgh hasn’t finished higher than 14th in total offense, and they’ve often found themselves stuck in the bottom third.
The lack of explosiveness is glaring. Outside of one season-last year, when Russell Wilson’s deep-ball tendencies briefly lifted the offense-the Steelers have consistently ranked near the bottom in plays of 20-plus yards.
Their red zone scoring has been among the league’s worst, and they’ve faced more third downs than all but seven teams in that same span. That’s not just inefficiency-it’s a pattern.
And here’s where the conversation gets complicated. Some would argue that the fact Pittsburgh has remained competitive through all this is a testament to Tomlin’s coaching.
That’s not wrong. But it also raises questions about whether the very structure of the team-the schemes, the philosophy, the decision-making-has become outdated.
The Steelers’ defense feels like it’s been passed by more aggressive, forward-thinking units. And the offense, designed to complement that old-school defense, just hasn’t kept pace with the modern NFL.
Quarterback play has been a major issue since Ben Roethlisberger retired after the 2021 season. Pittsburgh has been stuck in a cycle of short-term fixes, never quite bad enough to land a top draft pick, never quite bold enough to swing big for a proven veteran.
It’s fair to wonder if landing someone like Jared Goff, Matthew Stafford, or even Philip Rivers would’ve changed much. But the fact remains: the Steelers haven’t found their next franchise quarterback, and that’s the piece that ultimately defines a coach’s ceiling.
Replacing Tomlin wouldn’t be easy. He’s the kind of leader who commands respect in the locker room and around the league.
But if the organization does decide to move on, this year’s coaching carousel is unusually rich with candidates who fit the mold Pittsburgh has historically targeted-young, defensive-minded, and innovative. Names like Chris Shula, Jeff Hafley, Ejiro Evero, and Jesse Minter would all be in the conversation if the job opened up.
If a change does happen, expect it to be handled with the kind of grace and professionalism that’s defined the Steelers for decades. This is a franchise that’s had just three head coaches since 1969, and they’ve won six Super Bowls in that span.
They don’t make rash decisions. But when they do move on, they do it deliberately, with the long-term vision in mind.
What happened Sunday wasn’t just about one bad game. It was a culmination.
The fans saw it. The players probably felt it.
And the organization, if it hasn’t already, is likely starting to have the internal conversations that lead to seismic decisions.
This isn’t about disrespecting a coach who’s done so much for the franchise. It’s about recognizing when the formula that once worked so well no longer delivers the same results. Sometimes, even for the greats, the best move is a mutual parting of ways-quietly, respectfully, and with an eye toward what’s next.