One of the plays Utah fans will remember for a lifetime came from Utah quarterback Devon Dampier, a preposterous athlete who popped 1,000 rushing yards at New Mexico a few years ago. On a fourth down near midfield, he went up and high-pointed a ball that most wide receivers wouldn’t get. You can see the BYU cornerback get mad that he got mossed by a QB:

You know who else plays quarterback but sometimes feels like he should be playing another position? BYU’s Bear Bachmeier.

I like to think of myself as someone who is able to look past superficialities. However, I am simply unable to get over the fact that Bear Bachmeier, a quarterback, wears the number 47, a number typically worn by fullbacks, linebackers, and safeties. It colors every analysis I have of his play. Sometimes that’s probably unfair … but he threw four interceptions Saturday, and so I have to come back to the #47 thing.

The Bach-breaker was the pick he threw on the goal line with the Cougars trailing by a touchdown. Of the four, it’s probably the pick Bachmeier bears the least responsibility for — a leaping, high-point grab by linebacker Trey Reynolds on a pass intended for a wide-open receiver 10 yards behind him. Merely breaking up the pass would’ve been an incredible read. Somehow bringing it down was legendary. 

While we’re on the subject of getting all the way to the goal line and suddenly losing everything … damn, things went south quickly for BYU. Just three weeks ago, the Cougars were undefeated and had just knocked off undefeated Notre Dame, a win that might have been the best in program history. Now they’ve lost two in a row and probably won’t make the Big 12 Championship Game, let alone the College Football Playoff. 

A few weeks ago, I chose Utah as my Team of the Week for Split Zone Duo — possibly my favorite episode so far in the series. I wanted to talk about the Utes because I completely botched my expectations for this program during the offseason. I thought Utah had been foolish to (apparently) push out program legend Kyle Whittingham as head coach and replace him with Morgan Scalley, a longtime Utah assistant. It seemed like an underestimation of Whittingham’s coaching talent and an overestimation of Scalley’s. Watching Whittingham land on his feet at Michigan and bring along a bunch of Utah’s best players only confirmed my feelings.

But after a few months of watching Scalley at Utah and Whittingham at Michigan … yeah, I think I was 180 degrees wrong on that one.

The bulk of the episode was about why Utah felt compelled to make a move. Over the last few years, the Utes had fallen farther and farther behind BYU, losing three games in a row while the Cougars built advantages in talent, money, and prestige. It felt like Utah’s goals were unattainable as long as BYU was in the way.

Saturday, the teams changed spots. The potential greatest season in Utah’s history is still alive because it beat the team it hates the most. Meanwhile, BYU will spend the next 364ish days stewing.

Part of me wants BYU and Utah to play another game just like this next year, with everything on the line. But part of me also loves the idea that one Saturday can not only change a team’s season, but everything about a program. These two schools have spent an eternity hating each other. What if this weird game with ridiculous highlights and lowlights is the biggest they’ll ever play?

Ohio State has lost three games in a season for the first time since 2011, which was the first season after a scandal about players receiving tattoos that led to the resignation of head coach Jim Tressel and departure of QB Terrelle Pryor. 

To be clear: The last time Ohio State was bad was so long ago that one of the primary factors in the team’s poor play was a scandal related to a local business giving players free products. Now Ohio State players could, like, be in an ad for a local tattoo shop and it would actually be considered a shining example of how NIL is supposed to work, as opposed to the under-the-table shady stuff everybody is freaking out about.

Wanna talk about one little cog causing the entire machine to fall apart? Ohio State was actually leading this game 14-3 when Oregon called the rare fake punt pass that features a defensive end throwing to a fellow defensive end. Heck of a play from Teitum Tuioti to loft it up for his pass-rushing buddy, Matayo Uiagalelei, who had been waiting his whole life to hurdle a guy.

(That’s two weeks in a row now that Ohio State has gotten hurdled. This one wasn’t quite as clean as last week’s, but it says something that opposing runners have enough space to come up with dumb ideas, and that they don’t fear whatever might hit them while they’re in mid-air.) 

After the fake punt, the Buckeye dam burst. Ohio State allowed 38 consecutive points — 38 points! In a row! At home! Unfathomable! — while the offense sputtered hopelessly. Ohio State gained a total of two first downs and 37 yards on its next five possessions. Oregon scored 28 points during that same stretch, making it 38 unanswered.

The image of Ohio State’s loss was All-World wide receiver Jeremiah Smith yelling at the sideline after going two quarters without a target.

Forgetting to target Jeremiah Smith is like forgetting to breathe; you should be able to do it automatically without thinking, and if you’re having this problem you might already be dead. 

The Buckeyes have counted on Smith all season to do everything. He draws 33 percent of OSU’s targets and has 14 of its 25 touchdowns. The fact that Fahey is just a little bit worse at getting the ball to Smith means Ohio State needs to rely more on other receivers and the running game … and, well, it just can’t.

Ohio State’s playcalling has also suffered a severe downgrade. When the Buckeyes won the national championship two years ago, they had Certified Offensive Genius Chip Kelly. Now they have Arthur Smith, who has never coached in college and is coming off lackluster tenures with the Atlanta Falcons and Pittsburgh Steelers. (I’m also collecting on my “Matt Patricia? Really?” takes.)

Also: When OSU won the natty, the Bucks had two NFL running backs in Quinshon Judkins and TreVeyon Henderson. This year, they’re 90th in yards per rushing attempt and 120th in run plays that gain 20 yards or more. The run game just isn’t dangerous enough to draw defenders from Smith or effective enough in short yardage situations to pick up first downs. OSU opted to pass on back-to-back fourth-and-2 situations and missed both. 

And when you can’t sustain drives, your defense is on the field a lot. And when your defense is on the field a lot, it gets tired. And when it’s tired, it gets torched. And this defense isn’t as good as past OSU defenses even when it’s fresh. Last year, the Buckeyes had three defenders who were taken among the first 11 picks of the NFL Draft. This year, no OSU defenders are projected to go in the first round. 

Other teams handle injuries to their starting QBs and survive. UCLA is 4-0 with its backup! Ohio State literally lost this game to a team playing its backup QB! But OSU was so much thinner than anybody could’ve fathomed.

I almost cannot fathom the concept of Bad Ohio State. I started watching college football for real in 2008. Since then, OSU has finished in the Top 10 of the AP Poll in 17 of 18 seasons, including every season since 2011. The Buckeyes have appeared in the Playoff or a BCS/New Year’s Six bowl game every year since 2012. (Not 2011 this time; they were ineligible in 2012 because of the aforementioned scandal.) That streak is in danger unless the Buckeyes win out and become the first-ever three-loss team to make the Playoff.

We might be headed towards the most juiceless edition of The Game ever. OSU is in the midst of its worst season since 2011, and Michigan is 5-4 and just lost 15-6 to a Michigan State team that hadn’t yet won a Big Ten game this season. That’s right: I’m ending each of the first two sections of this newsletter by talking about how Michigan sucks now. 

Sellers was already one of my favorite players from the last few years of college football — I was sold the second I saw a guy playing QB in Rec Specs. (He doesn’t wear them on the field anymore; he got contacts.) Sellers is 6-foot-3, 240 pounds, and allegedly runs a 4.5-second 40-yard dash when his ankle works. As always, when I see a guy like that I’m all in. He was the SEC Freshman of the Year in 2024, but regressed last season as the Gamecocks went 4-8.

It looked like everything was falling apart again for the Cocks. They lost three in a row early in the season, and likely top 10 pick Dylan Stewart was suspended for ignoring his coaches and punching an Alabama player. Sellers had no rushing touchdowns during that three-game losing streak; he’s had six in their four-game win streak.

So what happened during halftime? Sellers’ X-rays came back negative. Head coach Shane Beamer told reporters that he was concerned Sellers might aggravate the injury by continuing to play … and put him back in the game anyway. “I asked John, our trainer, ‘Is that something where he could come in potentially on Sunday, and it gets worse overnight or things like that?’ And frankly, yeah, there’s a possibility of that.”

This feels like malpractice. How could anybody let their potentially NFL-bound quarterback go back in the game with an injury that could worsen, potentially costing them millions of dollars?

But I also feel like Sellers going back in the game may have made him millions of dollars. Sellers’ talents and flaws have been clear for years … but you know who I want on my team? A guy who is somehow capable of running through a defense on a bum ankle — a guy willing to do this s*** for Madden.

TO BE CLEAR: I DO NOT ENDORSE COACHES PUTTING INJURED PLAYERS BACK INTO THE GAME.

BUT IT WORKED OUT THIS TIME.

The Gamecocks are the hottest team in college football. They’ve now won four in a row. But they’re 6-3, and they’ll have to win out to make the Playoff, and winning out would include beating Georgia, which seems to be the best team in college football. 

It’ll take one hell of a late run — but man, we just watched LaNorris Sellers make one hell of a late run. Maybe South Carolina can limp into the end zone, just like its wounded king.