The Fix is In, Folks. Don’t Let Them Lie to You.
Let’s just call it what it is. The 2025 Heisman Trophy race is a complete and utter sham, a made-for-TV drama where the winner was decided weeks ago in a smoky backroom by network executives and so-called “analysts” who wouldn’t know real football talent if it trucked them on their way to the studio. They’ve found their golden boy, their marketable little narrative, and his name is Fernando Mendoza. And the fact that his odds are getting *shorter* while he’s sitting on his couch during a bye week is all the proof you need that the game is rigged. It’s an insult to your intelligence. It’s a joke.
They want you to believe this fairy tale about the Indiana QB. The comeback kid. The underdog. It’s a story that sells, and in the modern era of college football, selling the story is all that matters, isn’t it? The actual on-field product is secondary to the narrative. Mendoza is the narrative. He is the perfectly packaged product for a media ecosystem that craves low-hanging fruit and shuns complexity. The voters, most of whom probably watch three games a weekend while scrolling on their phones, see the headlines and hear the buzz. That’s it. That’s their analysis. They see “Mendoza’s Heisman odds improve” and they nod along like sheep. They aren’t watching the tape.
The Real Story They’re Ignoring: Jeremiyah Love
While the media fawns over their chosen one, a real football player is out there getting his uniform dirty, carrying an entire offense on his back, and rewriting record books. His name is Jeremiyah Love, and he is being systematically ignored by the Heisman industrial complex because his story isn’t as clean or as simple as Mendoza’s. He’s just a dude from St. Louis who runs like a freight train with jet fuel for blood. Not a compelling enough story, I guess. It’s just pure, unadulterated dominance. Who wants that?
Did you see what he did last weekend? Of course you didn’t, it was probably buried on some secondary channel while ESPN ran another 10-minute segment on Mendoza’s breakfast routine. One hundred and seventy-one yards. Three touchdowns. He didn’t just play; he brutalized an entire defense. He made grown men, future NFL draft picks, look like they were running in wet cement. That’s a Heisman performance. That is a statement of intent. But because he plays for Notre Dame, a team the media has a bizarre love-hate relationship with, and because he’s a running back (a position they’ve decided is no longer worthy of the award unless you break every record known to man), he’s on the outside looking in. It’s a disgrace.
This isn’t an accident. This is a deliberate campaign to prop up one guy at the expense of another. They’re creating a king. The market doesn’t lie, they say. But the market is being manipulated! When a player’s odds improve when he *doesn’t* play, it’s not because of some deep, mystical understanding of his value. It’s because the big players, the Vegas insiders and the media conglomerates, are pushing their chips to one side of the table to create a self-fulfilling prophecy. They tell you he’s the favorite, so people bet on him, so his odds shorten, which makes the media report that he’s the favorite. See the cycle? It’s a feedback loop of nonsense, and we’re all just supposed to swallow it.
The Sideshow Distractions
And then you have the other guys. The spoilers. The red herrings. Julian Sayin. Marcel Reed. Good players, sure. Talented kids. But in the grand scheme of this year’s race, they are nothing more than pawns designed to make this look like a legitimate competition. Their high-stakes rivalry games are being billed as Heisman showcases, but it’s a lie. They’re auditioning for runner-up. They are there to split votes, to muddy the waters, to provide the illusion of a horse race when the thoroughbred has already been selected, anointed, and measured for his bronze statue.
The media will spend all week talking about Sayin vs. his rival, building up the drama, making it seem like the outcome will actually impact the Heisman race. It won’t. Not really. Because at the end of the day, the narrative is already written. Win or lose, the headlines on Monday morning will find a way to pivot back to their boy, Mendoza. If Sayin has a huge game? “Is Sayin a dark horse, or is this still Mendoza’s award to lose?” If he has a bad game? “Sayin falters, clearing the path for frontrunner Fernando Mendoza.” It’s a pre-written script. It’s professional wrestling. The outcome is predetermined, and we’re just here to watch the soap opera unfold.
A History of Getting it Wrong
Let’s not pretend the Heisman voters have a great track record. This is the same group of people who have historically been swayed by late-season hype, team record (which is a team award, not an individual one), and East Coast bias. They’ve rewarded stat-padding quarterbacks on systems that inflate numbers while ignoring once-in-a-generation defensive talents or running backs who were the literal heart and soul of their teams. They gave the trophy to guys who were busts in the NFL while players who went on to become legends were sitting right there in the top five. Their judgment is questionable at best, and criminally negligent at worst.
What we’re seeing with Mendoza and Love is just the latest chapter in this sad history. It’s the triumph of marketing over merit. It’s the celebration of a good story over a great player. Fernando Mendoza might be a fine quarterback. A good leader. But is he the *most outstanding player* in college football? This year? Absolutely not. Not when Jeremiyah Love is running with the fury of a man possessed, a player so clearly dominant that you have to actively try to ignore him. And that’s exactly what they’re doing. They’re trying. Very hard. Don’t let them get away with it. Open your eyes. The real Heisman winner is playing in South Bend, not sitting on a couch in Indiana. The whole thing stinks. It’s rotten to the core.
The College Football Playoff berths and bragging rights are just window dressing for the real prize being handed out behind the curtain. They’re selling you a story about a playoff race to distract you from the Heisman heist happening in broad daylight. They’re counting on you to be focused on the team rankings so you don’t notice the individual injustice. Wake up. The coronation is underway, and if you listen closely, you can hear the faint, distant laughter of the network executives who think you’re all dumb enough to buy it. This isn’t a race. It’s a marketing campaign. And it’s working. (Unless we all start screaming about it). Don’t just accept the narrative. Question it. Because right now, the most outstanding player in college football is being treated like an afterthought, and that’s a crime against the sport itself. Total. Garbage.
