Texas A&M Football…Where the only thing more offensive than our offense is our head coach's opinion of the people paying to watch it.
We started the 2026 season ranked No. 8 in the country. Six games later, we're 3-3, -3 in SEC play, and fresh off a 27-6 loss to Missouri in which our offense produced an astonishing 74 yards and two first downs through three quarters.
But apparently, the real problem in College Station isn't the offensive line, the quarterback play, or our inability to score touchdowns on the road.
It's us.
The fans.
The cesspool.
The evidence against us
- Three SEC losses before Columbus Day. We haven't even gotten to Halloween, and our playoff aspirations are already dressed as ghosts.
- 108,657 fans showed up for Arkansas. Apparently, the 12th Man is expected to stand for four quarters, spend hundreds of dollars, endure the product on the field, and then maintain complete radio silence afterward.
Which brings us to the obvious conclusion.
We have spent decades blaming coaches, coordinators, players, recruiting, facilities, NIL, the transfer portal, and the occasional missed field goal.
Turns out, the missing ingredient in our championship formula was a message board with fewer opinions.
For years, we were told the 12th Man was the greatest tradition in college football. Now we've learned there's a 13th Man: an anonymous poster whose criticism apparently poses a greater threat to the program than Missouri's defensive front.
And perhaps the most impressive part of this entire situation is that our coach managed to identify the cesspool immediately after overseeing an offense that couldn't find the end zone with a GPS, a police escort, and written directions.
The final reality
Texas A&M has invested extraordinary resources into building a championship program. We have the facilities, the money, the recruiting footprint, the stadium, the traditions, and the fan support.
And somehow, after another miserable Saturday, we've arrived at the point where the head football coach and the people who financially support the program are arguing about which one is responsible for the smell.
Old Army has witnessed decades of disappointment. New Army has inherited the same expectations. Both are now apparently part of a wastewater management problem.
We used to call ourselves the Home of the 12th Man.
Now we're the Home of the 12th Manhole.
Gig 'em. Flush 'em. We'll get 'em next year.
We started the 2026 season ranked No. 8 in the country. Six games later, we're 3-3, -3 in SEC play, and fresh off a 27-6 loss to Missouri in which our offense produced an astonishing 74 yards and two first downs through three quarters.
But apparently, the real problem in College Station isn't the offensive line, the quarterback play, or our inability to score touchdowns on the road.
It's us.
The fans.
The cesspool.
The evidence against us
- Three SEC losses before Columbus Day. We haven't even gotten to Halloween, and our playoff aspirations are already dressed as ghosts.
- 108,657 fans showed up for Arkansas. Apparently, the 12th Man is expected to stand for four quarters, spend hundreds of dollars, endure the product on the field, and then maintain complete radio silence afterward.
Which brings us to the obvious conclusion.
We have spent decades blaming coaches, coordinators, players, recruiting, facilities, NIL, the transfer portal, and the occasional missed field goal.
Turns out, the missing ingredient in our championship formula was a message board with fewer opinions.
For years, we were told the 12th Man was the greatest tradition in college football. Now we've learned there's a 13th Man: an anonymous poster whose criticism apparently poses a greater threat to the program than Missouri's defensive front.
And perhaps the most impressive part of this entire situation is that our coach managed to identify the cesspool immediately after overseeing an offense that couldn't find the end zone with a GPS, a police escort, and written directions.
The final reality
Texas A&M has invested extraordinary resources into building a championship program. We have the facilities, the money, the recruiting footprint, the stadium, the traditions, and the fan support.
And somehow, after another miserable Saturday, we've arrived at the point where the head football coach and the people who financially support the program are arguing about which one is responsible for the smell.
Old Army has witnessed decades of disappointment. New Army has inherited the same expectations. Both are now apparently part of a wastewater management problem.
We used to call ourselves the Home of the 12th Man.
Now we're the Home of the 12th Manhole.
Gig 'em. Flush 'em. We'll get 'em next year.
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