In any given year, there are only a handful of teams with a realistic capability of winning a national championship.
In the modern era, winning it all requires the perfect blend of talent, coaching, facilities, institutional and fan support and, of course, some luck. Falling short in any of these categories renders championship opportunities obsolete.
Since there’s no consensus on what the “modern era” is among an ever-changing college football landscape, the implementation of the BCS in 1998 is a serviceable starting point, considering it marked the beginning of undisputed (for the most part) national champions.
Take the Blue-Chip Ratio, popularized by Bud Elliott, for example. It claims at least 50% of a team’s roster must be comprised of four- and five-star recruits to have the capability of winning a title. That rule hasn’t been broken dating back to its inception in 2005, and recruiting services have only gotten more accurate over the years, lowering the probability of a fluke outlier.
Entering 2025, Penn State was one of 18 teams (the largest group of schools ever) meeting the criteria.
But fandom is built on hope, and in any given year, enthusiasts of all 136 FBS teams can delude themselves into believing that maybe, if everything falls right, they can hoist the trophy at the end of the year.
Hope is fans taking off their shirts in freezing temperatures and covering their chests in paint to spell messages of support at games.
Hope is students camping in tents outside stadiums for days at a time just for front-row seats.
Hope is alumni paying thousands of dollars to travel from all corners of the country to attend a game they could’ve watched on television.
Hope is sleeping on the floor of a two-bed hotel with seven other guys the night before a game because every other room in the city was booked.
Hope is Nebraska firing Bo Pelini after seven consecutive nine-plus win seasons, thinking the program could do better, only to enter one of the darkest stretches in Cornhusker history.
Hope is staying up into the wee hours of the night knowing you need to wake up early the next morning because maybe your team can come back from a 21-point deficit in the fourth quarter.
Hope is screaming your lungs out in the nosebleeds because maybe the extra 0.01 decibels will be enough to draw a false start from the opposing team.
Hope is the engine that drives college football. It’s why tickets are sold, merchandise is bought, and why my stories get read.
Hope is a big part of what makes sports beautiful. It’s the optimistic uncertainty resulting in either anguish or jubilation with no in-between.
But it’s the hope that kills you. Not when you have it, but when you don’t. And right now, Penn State has lost all hope (though I “hope” you continue to read my stories).
A 22-21 loss to Northwestern on Saturday in front of one of the lowest-attended games in recent memory drove the final nail in the coffin on Penn State’s playoff and national championship chances this season. Further compounding the Nittany Lions’ third consecutive defeat and second to a three-touchdown underdog, senior starting quarterback Drew Allar suffered a season-ending injury in the fourth quarter.
What began as one of the most promising seasons in program history with a No. 2 preseason ranking and a nationwide buzz has quickly devolved into a battle for bowl eligibility on Oct. 11.
So what’s left to play for?
Zane Durant: “For my brothers. Same reason we started this, man … my brothers work hard all week. We compete against each other, and we get to Saturday and just let up? Just because we lost last week? I’m not doing that. That’s not how we were brought up with coach Franklin.”
Devonte Ross: “The biggest thing to play for is just the love of the game. We love each other. We want to go 1-0 every single week. So, we’re just gonna go back to work, look at the film, see what we can do better and just rally around each other and keep playing for each other.”
TJ Shanahan: “Just win it out. Run the table. We can’t do anything about the past, so just focus on going 1-0 each week, every week.”
One thing head coach James Franklin has done exceptionally well throughout his tenure in Happy Valley is give fans a reason for hope. Most years, his teams remained competitive and appeared to have a good foundation to build on.
Excluding 2014 and 2015 for sanctions, 2020 for COVID and 2021 for poor injury luck, there’s been hope up until the end of every season.
The team took care of business against inferior competition, hung close with top competitors and remained in the College Football Playoff conversation deep into November. Each loss stung, but there were glimmers of hope along the way.
Winning a Big Ten title and being on the verge of the playoffs in 2016 and making it back to the conference championship game and winning two playoff games last year were highlights.
In other years, the Nittany Lions won the 2017 Fiesta Bowl, 2019 Cotton Bowl and 2022 Rose Bowl, setting the stage for a potentially big following season.
There was always a reason to believe that Penn State could win it all. And when it didn’t, there was always a viable excuse for disappointment.
This year, there isn’t. The program doesn’t have scholarship restrictions. There’s no global pandemic. The roster is relatively healthy. And it still failed.
There’s no possible spin that would provide optimism to fans of the team, and because of that, the season is effectively over.
This was supposed to be the year. Franklin even referenced the outside hype and called it his “best combined personnel,” only to produce two of the most embarrassing losses in program history.
College football fans don’t need success. They need to believe that they can be successful throughout the season and into future seasons. They need reasons for optimism. Right now, there are none.
And when all hope is lost, well…
Welcome to rock bottom.
