On the surface, this is a story about data and numbers. These things are important. Vital, actually. They tell stories. They tell truths that are often undeniable. But ultimately, numbers and statistics like the one you’re going to read are about people. Real human beings denied real opportunities to do what they really love.

This story about data and numbers actually begins over 25 years ago. It was Super Bowl XXXII between the Packers and Broncos in January of 1998 and one of the biggest stories of that week was a mild-mannered man named Sherman Lewis.

Lewis was the offensive coordinator for the Packers, one of six Black offensive coordinators in the NFL that year. Lewis had a strong football pedigree. He was third in Heisman voting in 1963 while playing on a Michigan State team that was futuristically racially blended at a time when segregation was king. He’d eventually enter into NFL coaching and by 1998 had coached in multiple Super Bowls as an assistant. He’d lead greats like Joe Montana, Brett Favre and Jerry Rice.

That week leading up to the game was stunning. That’s because not only was there a championship to play, but in many ways the NFL was on trial for how it treated its Black coaches. In fact, there’s rarely been such a guttural and aggressive public reckoning on the issue of lack of Black coaches like that moment.

NFL STATS CENTRAL: The latest NFL scores, schedules, odds, stats and more.

Lewis said at the time there was little else he could do to become a head coach, which never happened. ‘I can do no more. As an assistant coach, I can’t,’ Lewis said. He added: ‘I think I’ve served a hell of an apprenticeship, though.’

In the conversations I had with Sherman, privately then and in the years since, his largest concern wasn’t just what was happening to him, but the coordinator pipeline overall — and this brings us to that remarkable piece of data.

Lewis feared there weren’t enough Black coaches behind him in the offensive coordinator pipeline. And while he was hopeful, Lewis believed owners would ignore Black coaching candidates and that pipeline would dry up. ‘What will it be like in five years?’ he’d say. ‘I hope things change but I’m not so sure,’ he’d explain.

He was right to be concerned. If time is indeed a flat circle, we are at that place again, where Black coaches are being shunned at the most important coaching position in football.

Entering this season, there were no Black offensive coordinators in the NFL for the first time since 1988, according to an analysis by USA TODAY Sports. So, it was the first time in 36 years this had happened.

That Super Bowl year with Lewis, there were six: Lewis, Sylvester Croom (Lions), Jim Skipper (Giants), Jimmy Raye (Chiefs), Kippy Brown (Dolphins), and Ray Sherman (Steelers).

Several decades later, there were no Black offensive coordinators entering this NFL season. As of now, there is just one, Thomas Brown, and he only reached that position Tuesday after the Bears fired Shane Waldron.

The NFL did not make Jonathan Beane, its Senior Vice President and Chief Diversity & Inclusion Officer, available for an interview.

This story is problematic because it shows how the fight for equality in the NFL never seems to end. We could get the usual quotes from people on why this is, the usual comments, the usual excuses. But we know the answers.

So we’re going to state the obvious. The reason there were no Black offensive coordinators at the beginning of the season is systemic.

Primarily, though not exclusively, head coaches are hiring their buddies. The people they feel comfortable with. Often, when this happens, Black coaches lose out, because they aren’t part of the old boy network. There is a lack of comfort with them.

Why aren’t Black head coaches hiring Black offensive coordinators? That’s a fair question but there’s only six Black head coaches. It shouldn’t all be on them to balance things out.

This problem persists because race persists. It’s a powerful, corrosive force that is everywhere, but also nowhere, as some people refuse to even acknowledge its existence. You can’t blame the NFL for being incapable of solving a problem that world leaders and presidents can’t fix.

Also, in fairness to the NFL, the league continues to push for change. It has, in fact, made a steady and purposeful effort to diversify the league at many levels. Several years ago, the NFL enacted a rule requiring every team to hire a minority or woman offensive assistant coach.

“It’s a recognition that at the moment, when you look at stepping stones for a head coach, they are the coordinator positions,” Steelers owner Art Rooney II, the chairman of the NFL diversity, equity and inclusion committee, said in 2022. “We clearly have a trend where coaches are coming from the offensive side of the ball in recent years, and we clearly do not have as many minorities in the offensive coordinator (job).”

It represented the first hiring mandate in the history of the Rooney Rule, which was named after Art Rooney’s father, and is designed to increase minority hiring at all levels of the sport.

The league also entered this season with a record nine head coaches of color. For those of us who have been covering this issue our entire adult lives, this was indeed a remarkable moment.

Still, despite that progress, something still isn’t clicking. Multiple things can be true. There can be progress but also moments like this one that are unacceptable. There should never be time in the 21st century NFL where heading into a season there are no Black offensive coordinators.

‘I can’t mandate that somebody hires me,’ Lewis said in 1998. ‘All I can do is keep winning and keep going to Super Bowls. I’ve got a good job. I think a lot of guys who have been head coaches in this league would love to trade places with me. This is my fifth Super Bowl. I’ve won four of them.’

This quote could easily apply today, to the lack of opportunities some Black assistant coach hasn’t gotten but probably deserved.

So, yes, on the surface this is a story about data and numbers. These things are important. Vital, actually. They tell stories. They tell truths that are often undeniable. But ultimately, numbers and statistics like the one you just read are about people. People denied real opportunities to do what they love.