COLUMN | How Ole Miss Navigated One of Its Most Demanding Years

Note: Our coverage of Ole Miss football in the College Football Playoff is brought to you by the great folks at BlueSky, Richland Dental, Oxford Krystal and Southern Traditions Farm. We are incredibly appreciative of these sponsors and encourage you to learn more about them at the end of this article. 

NEW ORLEANS — The Ole Miss Rebels head into the Sugar Bowl with more than just an opponent across the field. They carry a year that tested them in ways no depth chart or stat sheet can explain. Loss has a way of sharpening memory, and this team has had a lot to remember.  

There was the loss everyone saw at Georgia. The loss that still lingers and stays with a program because it exposes the gap between good and great. But there were deeper wounds too, ones that never showed up on the scoreboard.

The death of teammate Corey Adams in July shook the program to its core. Football teaches toughness, but it doesn’t prepare young men to lose one of their own. Grief doesn’t care about preseason workouts or expectations. It changes the tone of a locker room. It forces players to grow up faster than they should have to. That kind of adversity doesn’t fade with time; it settles in and becomes part of who you are.

Then came the loss caused by the leader of Rebel football—the departure of a head coach from a team that was bound for the College Football Playoff. Rebel fans weren’t just mad that he left. They were bitter about how it happened. Around here, how you do something matters just as much as what you do. Many wanted to believe he was different, that he had learned from past mistakes, that faith and friendship meant something more than a stepping stone. Instead, it felt like history repeating itself. 

That disappointment cut deep. Not because Ole Miss fans expect loyalty forever, but because they expect honesty. Say you’re gone and own it. Don’t ride two horses and expect the people back home to lie down and take it, then keep singing your praises. A lot of folks learned a hard lesson, and some, this writer included, even owe rival fanbases an apology for not listening sooner.

Of course, the rest of the college football world didn’t exactly shed a tear. Some opposing fanbases were happy to see Ole Miss stumble. Some called Rebel fans bitter, and maybe there’s a little truth there. Disappointment can look a lot like bitterness when those looking in don’t know the full story. Bitterness tends to surface when trust is broken. But bitterness also fades when reality sets in, and reality says two things: people with agendas talk out of both sides of their mouth and the game of college football has changed.

NIL and the coaching carousel have flipped college football upside down. What used to be about development and continuity is now about leverage and timing. Players move freely. Coaches negotiate in whispers. Promises expire quickly. Everyone wanted progress, and now everyone is surprised by the chaos that followed.

The truth is, fans helped open this door. This writer is preaching to herself by the way. Winning wasn’t enough anymore. Conference titles weren’t enough. It had to be championships whatever the cost. Pandora’s box didn’t open by accident. It was pushed open by demand, impatience, and money. Now, the sport is trying to figure out what it’s become, while those at the university administrative level are navigating the constantly changing landscape of college athletics. 

Through all of the chaos the season brought, this Ole Miss team kept showing up, shattering records and marking their place in Ole Miss history. Even with new leadership, wounded pride, and heavy hearts, they didn’t fold. They practiced. They played. They stayed together when it would’ve been easy to say every man for himself.

That’s why the Sugar Bowl matters to Ole Miss football and its fans, regardless of the outcome. It’s not a redemption story, and it’s not a fairy tale. It’s a checkpoint. Proof that a program can take hits from every direction and still stand strong and tall.

Ole Miss isn’t perfect. It never has been. But it’s real. Real fans, real emotion, real scars. This season reminded everyone that football is still played by people, not brands. And sometimes the most important wins don’t come with trophies, but with survival.

Whatever college football turns into next, Ole Miss will be there, same as always—loud, stubborn, hopeful, and still believing that how you do things matters. And maybe that’s worth more than people think. Hotty Toddy!