Look, LSU. Look, Michigan. College football doesn't like what you're doing — or what you've been allowed to get away with.
You're paying the malicious compliance tax. That's the tax where folks are doing just enough to satisfy the rules or the contract, but not enough to make the process a pleasant one. And being right isn't going to change their minds.
College football has spent the last few years changing what it will tolerate. Players can make millions. Transfers can move immediately.
The playoff can crown an undisputed national champion. The sport has made room for immediate eligibility upon transferring schools — "free agency" — according to some coaches. But there are still lines that fans, coaches and administrators simply won't let you cross.
LSU and Michigan are the latest high-profile examples of how the sport operates, and it’s on emotion first. Objectively, the Wolverines did nothing illegal in their 13-12 win over in-state foe Western Michigan. They played by the rules enforced by Big Ten officials and scored what — under normal circumstances — would have been a dramatic, game-winning touchdown at home.
Michigan fans stormed the field, and head coach Kyle Whittingham made the appropriate remarks about narrowly escaping with a victory. Except they didn’t. The Wolverines didn't win the game — not in the eyes of the public and not in the eyes of the Mid-American Conference, which lodged an appeal with the NCAA and College Football Playoff seeking to have its loss overturned.
Normally, the scoreboard settles these kinds of debates. But the clock is at issue, and to everyone watching the broadcast, the game was over when it struck zero. Then, the replay booth intervened.
Its clock showed one second remaining after the play was dead. One second Michigan didn't appear to have. One second that gave the Wolverines another snap and a chance to turn what looked like a 12-7 loss into a 13-12 victory.
The rules said Michigan had time. The audience saw a game that was already over. And in the end, Michigan went on to win a game that most believe is so unfair that they want to see the final result changed.
Now, No. 11 Oklahoma comes to the Big House on Saturday (noon ET, FOX), and the fallout from that finish has changed the way people see Michigan. The Wolverines aren't just viewed as a team that got away with one.
They're viewed as a team that isn't as good as many of us who cover the sport once thought. In my Top 25 rankings this week, I dropped Michigan from No. 16 to No.
25 despite the fact that it won the game on the scoreboard. And the scoreboard deserves our respect. Heck, even the NCAA does.
According to NCAA Rule 1-1-3-5 Winning and Final Score, Article 3, paragraph B: "When the referee declares that the game is ended, the score is final." But in a move I found utterly shocking, my peers who vote in the AP Top 25 Poll each week saw fit to cast Michigan out of the top 25 entirely. That's a drastic fall — 10 spots if we're counting down through the teams that also received votes — and it tells us something: Most AP voters don't believe Michigan's win on the scoreboard is valid. And that raises the question of just how much it means to win — or lose — as each week draws us closer to the 2026 College Football Playoff selection.
Meanwhile, in Baton Rouge, the SEC is suing one of its own members in federal court. In its amended complaint, the conference alleges "a lack of institutional control" and is seeking a court order that could pave the way for LSU's expulsion from the SEC. LSU head coach Lane Kiffin and his program have continued to not just act against the interests of its conference, but mock it.
On Saturday night, Kiffin asked a rhetorical question during a halftime interview while his team was throttling Dabo Swinney’s Tigers. "Imagine if we had pro players," Kiffin quipped. It’s the kind of joke Kiffin thought was harmless, but the rest of us — notably the SEC — saw as a mockery of one of college football’s core beliefs: Professionals aren’t allowed to play the amateur game.
The fact that some college players make more money annually than some NFL players doesn't incite the same outrage as Kiffin attempting to put men who have signed professional football contracts on his college roster. The SEC wants to make an example of LSU. As of Wednesday, the feud between LSU and the SEC has cooled down, at least now.
The Tigers added two players to complete its 105-man roster, eliminating the possibility of bringing in former NFL rookies Dae'Quan Wright and Zxavian Harris. But emotion, not reason, has long been the guiding hand of college football. This weekend was no different.
I believe three things get you and keep you in a job: 1. Be on time. 2.
Be good at your job. 3. Have people like you.
You must have two of the three to keep your job. That means if people like you, and you're on time, you can get away with not being excellent at your job. But if people don't like you, and you show up late, being good at your job isn't going stop you from getting fired.
Right now, the SEC doesn't believe LSU is on time — look at the timing of adding these players — and doesn't much like LSU. It really doesn't matter that LSU stomped a mud-hole in Clemson and walked it dry if you're not on time and people don't like you. And that's why college football is a people business.
Managing emotions and irrational expectations is how this sport moves. When you take those emotions for granted or try to talk people out of how they feel with reason, they turn feral in a hurry. They'll remind you just what is and isn't kosher.
In this chaotic moment for college football, the sport has shown once again it knows what it wants, what it will allow and what it won’t. My advice: Say you're sorry for winning a game the sport believes you shouldn't have, Michigan. Apologize to the SEC with both knees on the floor, LSU.
I assure you, the juice ain't worth the squeeze.
