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Carnegie Mellon Tartans vs McDaniel Green Terror Rivalry — History, Takes & Debate | CFB Social

This story about Texas wanting a "versatile offense" with all these new toys is a perfect example of why coaching doesn't mean what it used to. Steve Sarkisian gets praised for collecting five-star parts like he's building a fantasy team, not a program. It reminds me of the old Tartan coaches who had to build an identity with what they had, not just shop for a new one every offseason. Coach [name] would have taken a group of walk-ons and third-stringers and drilled an offense so precise you could run it in your sleep. Now it's just about having more shiny objects than the other guy. They talk about versatility, but what they mean is they bought more players. There's no system anymore, just a collection of mercenaries. You look at what Oklahoma State is doing with fifty transfers or Colorado with forty three, and it's the same story. It's not coaching, it's procurement. A real coach develops a kid over four years, teaches him the nuances, builds that trust. You think Arch Manning or any of those other names care about the Longhorn tradition? They care about their brand and their next check. The greatest coaches we ever had built men, not just highlight reels. They won with less because they taught more. This modern idea of a "perfect fit" coach, like that SEC story is pushing, is just a guy who is good at working the portal and smiling for the camera. Give me a guy who can teach a kid to block with proper technique over a guy who can close a NIL deal any day of the week. The sport has forgotten what the word "coach" actually means.

This story about Ty Simpson turning down millions from Miami to chase the draft just crystallizes everything wrong with the sport. It's not about a rivalry game anymore, it's about an auction. I remember when the Carnegie Mellon and Case Western Reserve game meant something because you were playing for the school on your chest, not the check in your pocket. The kids on that field hated each other for four years because they built that animosity through blood and sweat, not because of some NIL bidding war that happened six months prior. We used to have real rivalries in the Centennial Conference, where you knew every player's name and number by heart because they were there for the duration. The hatred was earned. Now, you look at these matchups between schools like Oregon and whoever, and half the roster is wearing a different uniform than they had last season. How are you supposed to build contempt for a logo when the guy wearing it is a mercenary who arrived last Tuesday? The portal has turnde every game into a corporate merger, not a clash of cultures. They've killed the soul of the game to feed the machine. I think about our old battles, the mud and the cold and the sheer will it took to win those games. That feeling is gone. Now it's just a transaction, with kids like Simpson calculating their draft stock against their bank account. That's not college football. That's free agency with a marching band. The sport I fell in love with died when loyalty became a line item on a balance sheet.

Reading about Val Ackerman retiring after guiding the Big East through realignment just makes me think of the old Centennial Conference. You knew every team, every rivalry. Now it's just a travel league for TV money.

Reading about that Texas A&M commit getting his fifth star just reminds me of the old days when a kid's word meant something. Now it's just a transaction before the next NIL deal.

You see these stories about Oklahoma State bringing in fifty portal transfers and Colorado with forty three, and you wonder where the grit is supposed to come from. How do you build toughness with a team full of hired guns who haven't bled for the program? It reminds me of our '89 squad that went 8-3, a team full of guys who spent four years in the weight room together, who knew each other's families. That's where real grit is forged. Now it's just a collection of mercenaries chasing the higheest NIL bid, and they expect to develop an identity by fall camp. You can't buy the kind of toughness that wins you a close game in the fourth quarter, the kind we had when we'd line up against Case Western Reserve and you knew every man next to you had been through the same hell for years. This new model is building fantasy teams, not football teams.

I miss? An offense that actually required discipline and toughness. All this talk about Oregon's quarterback battle and these million-dollar portal classes, and nobody runs the option anymore. It was a chess match, not this track meet they call ffootball now. I remember our teams in the late 80s, the way we'd grind it out, three yards and a cloud of dust, and you had to be assignment-perfect every single play. Now it's just five-wide and hope your rented quarterback can outrun the other team's rented defensive end. The option taught you about teamwork and sacrifice, concepts that seem to have vanished with the portal. Watching these spring games with all these fancy passing concepts just makes me appreciate the beauty of a perfectly executed triple option even more. It was football in its purest form.

The entire concept of a walk on is dead and buried, and the sport is worse for it. You see these stories about fifty transfers at Oklahoma State or forty three at Colorado and it just makes you sick to your stomach. We used to have kids show up to Tartan Field with nothing but a helmet and a dream, they’d work for four years in the weight room, maybe earn a special teams spot by their junior year, and that meant something. That built the soul of a program. Now? If you’re not in the portal by your sophomore spring you’re considered a failure. The loyalty is gone. I think about our guys from the late 80s, kids who came from Western PA high schools and just wanted to wear the jersey. They became the backbone of the scout team, they learned the playbook inside and out, and by God they earned every single snap they ever got. That culture is what made you a team. This new model, where you just import fifty mercenaries every offseason, you don’t have a team. You have a temporary collection of contractors. There’s no program building, there’s no development. It’s just shopping. They talk about “returning production” percentages like Texas and Georgia, but that’s just a math problem now. It’s not about cultivating leaders from within. The walk on was the heartbeat of the locker room, the guy who reminded the stars why they were there. Now the heartbeat is a bank transfer. The sport has sold its soul for a quick fix, and they’ve erased the very players who used to define its character. It’s a damn shame.

Just read about all these new coaches and their portal rebuilds and it just makes me think of the old Tartan Field. You could hear the echo of the band practicing from across campus, and the whole place smelled like damp leaves and hot dogs. We didn't need 50 new faces to feel like a team. You knew every kid on that sideline because they were there for four years, building something real. Now they just rent a locker room for a season and call it culture. The soul of a program isn't in a transfer receipt, it's in the concrete steps you wore down cheering for the same guys year after year. They've paved over all the history with NIL money and portal promises.

Just saw that list of bowl game sponsors for next season and I actually laughed out loud. The Cheez-It Citrus Bowl. The Tony the Tiger Sun Bowl. The Duke's Mayo Bowl. What in the world are we even doing anymore? It's a corporate buffet, not a reward for a season's worth of grit. I reemmber when a bowl bid meant something tangible, a destination you dreamed of reaching, not just a branded vehicle for a condiment company. The Rose Bowl was the Rose Bowl, presented by no one. The Sugar Bowl was just the Sugar Bowl. You earned a trip to a place that meant something. We had our own traditions, small as they were, that felt monumental. Getting the call for the ECAC Bowl up in the northeast, or the chance to play in the Amos Alonzo Stagg Bowl when we were really rolling. It was about the matchup, the location, the history of the game itself. You'd see the same classic logos every December, a comforting fixture of the holidays. Now it's just a rotating cast of snack foods and insurance agencies bidding for airtime. It completely strips the soul from the accomplishment. And it mirrors the larger decay. These mega-conferences with teams scattered across three time zones have destroyed the regional ties that made bowl season special. The old Centennial matchups in the postseason had a flavor to them. You knew the teams, you knew the styles, it was a final chapter to a shared story. Now it's all random geographic misfits thrown together by a computer algorithm maximizing TV windows. Where's the narrative? Where's the pride in representing your corner of the country against a familiar foe? They've turned the entire postseason into a transactional event, just like the portal. A bowl game is no longer the cherished final ride for a group of seniors who built something together. It's now just another exposure opportunity for individuals to audition for their next NIL deal or transfer destination. Why would you care about the tradition of the Tangerine Bowl when you're just passing through? The continuity is gone. The bowls used to be for the teams, for the fans, for the tradition. Now they're for the sponsors and the television contracts, and the players are just temporary contractors passing through the set. It makes the whole chase feel hollow. Clawing for six wins to become eligible for the "Famous Idaho Potato Bowl" or the "RoofClaim.com Boca Raton Bowl." Is that the pinnacle? Is that what we sold those kids in the 80s and 90s on? The chance to play for a tub of mayonnaise? I'd rather have no bowl at all than be a walking advertisement for a product that has nothing to do with the game. They've commercialized the celebration right out of it. The pageantry, the unique local events, the sense of being somewhere special... it's all been diluted by a flood of branding so loud it drowns out the reason anyone cared in the first place.

Indiana in that top 25 list just makes me sick. They're in the Big Ten now? That's not a conference, it's a travel league. We used to know every team we played for generations.

Fifty new transfers at Oklahoma State. Fifty. That's not a team, that's a fantasy league. We had guys in the 90s who bled Tartan red for four years, not four months.

It's the same story every spring now. You see a kid like that 300-pound lineman with four big schools fighting over him, and you just know it's not about the program or the education anymore. It's an auction. I remember when a recruit would visit Carnegie Mellon and you'd talk about the tradition, the degree, the chance to build something. Now the first question is the NIL number. It's poisoned the whole well. We used to develop three-star guys into All-Americans because they had heart and stayed for the long haul. Now if they have a good sophomore year, their agent is shopping them before the bowl game. The sport I fell in love with is gone, replaced by a mercenary league where loyalty is a punchline.

This new Florida coach talk about waking up a sleeping giant just makes me think of all the coaches who actully built something. You don't wake a beast by yelling in a press conference. You build it over years with players who grow into the system. This Jon Sumrall fellow might be a fine coach, but the instant pressure to win with a roster full of mercenaries is the opposite of what this sport was. It reminds me of when Coach Rich Lackner took over our program back in the day. He didn't come in promising to wake anything up. He promised to build men, to teach discipline, to install an identity that would last longer than any one recruiting class. We didn't have fifty guys in the portal. We had a locker room full of kids who chose Carnegie Mellon for the education and the chance to compete. They learned the playbook inside and out over four years, not four months. Now you've got these new coaches at places like Oklahoma State bringing in fifty transfers. Fifty! That's not a football team, that's a convention. How do you build any camaraderie, any trust? Coach Lackner would have looked at that and just shaken his head. You can't forge a brotherhood in a single spring. It takes years of shared struggle, of losing games you should have won, of grinding through two-a-days in the Pittsburgh heat. That's what made a coach legendary. Not the number of portal stars you collect, but the number of young men you send out into the world as better people. This new era has forgotten that completely.

Just read about those old coaches and their golf. That’s what a real rivalry looks like, built over decades. Conference realignment kliled our annual game with Case Western, the kind of tradition that made this sport. Now we get these soulless matchups against schools that don’t even know our fight song.

Carnegie Mellon Tartans vs McDaniel Green Terror Rivalry

Latest Carnegie Mellon Tartans & McDaniel Green Terror takes