Bob Chesney addressing the Bruins before defeating #13 Oregon in Autzen Stadium will give you the chills.
#GoBruins
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Credit @westwoodbruin on IG for the video.
Worst Braves signings of my lifetime (I'm excluding the 80's because no one actually cared).
1. BJ Upton (still by far the worst)
2. Hector Olivera
3. Profar
4. Dan Uggla
5. Melky Cabrera (yes it was only 1 year and 3.1M but screw that guy)
6. Kenshin Kawikami
On Saturday he gave a children's hospital $150,000.
People told him that was not good enough.
Today he went on television, said they were right, and made it $1 million.
His name is Pat McAfee.
You know the setup by now. College GameDay was in Iowa City, a student got a shot at a 33 yard field goal worth a million dollars to her and a million to the hospital, and it did not go through. She walked away with $150,000. The University of Iowa Stead Family Children's Hospital got $150,000.
A lot of people said the hospital should never have been part of the bet.
Here is what McAfee said about that today.
"A lot of people are like coming after me a little bit for not doing the donation. And I think those people were pretty right."
And this.
"It didn't feel right after I was kind of thinking about it."
Then he said they were donating a million dollars.
Understand which hospital this is.
It is the one with the twelfth floor window that looks down into Kinnick Stadium. At the end of the first quarter, about 70,000 people turn around and wave at the kids in that window. You have seen it.
Now here is the part people have forgotten.
This is the second time College GameDay turned into seven figures for that hospital.
September 2019. GameDay was in Ames for Iowa against Iowa State. A 24 year old named Carson King held up a sign in the crowd.
It said his Busch Light supply needed replenishing. It had his Venmo on it.
He expected nothing from it.
"I didn't think I would make anything, it all started as a joke."
Thirty minutes later he had $400. Within a day, with Busch Light and Venmo matching him, it was a million dollars.
So he kept one case of beer and gave away everything else.
By the time he shut the whole thing down on October 1, it was more than $3 million, all of it to the University of Iowa Stead Family Children's Hospital.
Carson King is an Iowa State fan.
Here is what McAfee said about meeting the kids.
"It was special. Those kids are awesome. I can't wait to see them again."
Be honest about all of it. He did not arrive here on his own. He got criticized in public and changed his mind in response to it, and a million dollars costs him less than it would cost you.
But a man with one of the loudest microphones in American sports went on the air and said the people yelling at him were right.
That almost never happens.
And a hospital that 70,000 people wave at every Saturday is a million dollars better off because it did.
CLEMSON ISN’T JUST FIGHTING A $20 MILLION ROSTER GAP — LOOK AT THE MONEY BEHIND THESE SCHOOLS
Clemson fans keep saying the same thing: “Just go spend more money.”
Okay. From where?
That is the question nobody seems to want to answer.
The most recent estimates for 2026 have Clemson’s football roster investment somewhere around $29–32 million. Meanwhile, the biggest spenders in the sport are operating in an entirely different neighborhood. Ohio State is estimated at $49–54 million, Oregon $48–54 million, Texas $45–55 million, LSU $47–50 million, Texas A&M $45–50 million and Miami $44–50 million. Notre Dame, Ole Miss, Tennessee and Alabama fill out the rest of the estimated national top 10.
That means Clemson can walk onto the field against some of these programs with roughly a $15 million to $25 million roster-investment disadvantage.
But here is the part Clemson fans also need to understand: it isn't only about Clemson deciding whether it wants to “spend more.” Look at the size of the financial ecosystems some of these universities can draw from.
CLEMSON — approximately 201,656 living alumni
That is Clemson University's own current number. About 114,269 of those alumni live in South Carolina.
Now compare that with many of the biggest spenders:
Texas A&M — 630,000+ former students
Texas A&M describes an Aggie network of more than 630,000 former students. That category is broader than Clemson's strict “living alumni” figure because A&M includes people who attended without graduating, so it isn't a perfect apples-to-apples comparison. But it illustrates the enormous size of the Aggie financial network. That's more than three times Clemson's living-alumni population.
Texas — 500,000+ living alumni
Texas Exes says UT has more than 500,000 living alumni around the world. That's roughly 2.5 Longhorn alumni for every Clemson alumnus.
Ohio State — 465,000+ alumni
Ohio State reports more than 465,000 alumni worldwide. That's about 2.3 times Clemson's alumni base.
Tennessee — 299,121 living alumni from the Knoxville campus alone
UT Knoxville lists 299,121 living alumni, about 48% more than Clemson. And the entire University of Tennessee system counts approximately 478,000 alumni, although using that larger number would not be a direct campus-to-campus comparison.
Oregon — approximately 275,000 living alumni
Oregon currently lists roughly 275,000 living alumni, around 36% more than Clemson.
Alabama — 259,044 living alumni worldwide
Alabama reports 259,044 living alumni, around 28% more than Clemson.
LSU — 250,000+ alumni
LSU says its worldwide alumni network exceeds 250,000, roughly 24% larger than Clemson's.
But here is where this gets interesting.
Miami — approximately 185,000 living alumni. That is actually smaller than Clemson's alumni base.
Notre Dame — 160,000+ living alumni. Also smaller than Clemson's.
Ole Miss — roughly 130,000 alumni. Again, substantially smaller than Clemson's alumni population.
So this research actually tells us something more important than simply saying, “Everybody Clemson competes against has 10 times as many alumni.”
They don't.
The real divide is a combination of ALUMNI SCALE + DONOR WEALTH + MEGA-DONORS + WILLINGNESS TO SPEND.
That is why Oregon can have only about 275,000 living alumni and still operate near the very top of college football spending. You don't necessarily need 600,000 alumni when your financial ecosystem contains extraordinarily wealthy people willing to make enormous athletic investments.
Miami proves the same point. Miami has fewer living alumni than Clemson yet reportedly has a football roster budget approaching $50 million.
Notre Dame has fewer alumni than Clemson and can still spend at an elite level.
So merely yelling, “Clemson has plenty of alumni — go get the money!” misses the issue.
Twenty thousand ordinary donors giving $100 each generates $2 million.
One billionaire deciding he wants to put another $20 million into a football operation changes the entire roster overnight.
That is the new economic reality Clemson is competing against.
And then look at what happens when you combine both advantages.
Texas has 500,000+ living alumni AND enormous Texas wealth.
Texas A&M has a network exceeding 600,000 former students AND enormous donor capacity.
Ohio State has roughly 465,000 alumni AND one of America's largest football brands.
Those programs aren't simply asking the same-sized population Clemson has to dig a little deeper. They are fishing in a dramatically larger pond, with considerably more whales swimming around in it.
Clemson has approximately 201,656 living alumni and an estimated $29–32 million football roster.
Ohio State can have more than twice the alumni base and approximately a $50 million roster.
Texas can have roughly two-and-a-half times Clemson's alumni base and approximately a $50 million roster.
Texas A&M's broader former-student network is more than three times Clemson's living-alumni population and its roster spending can approach $50 million.
And then Clemson has another problem: programs like Miami and Oregon have demonstrated that one or several enormous financial backers can erase the alumni-population equation altogether.
So when somebody says:
“Clemson needs to spend $50 million too.”
Fine.
You're asking Clemson to find approximately another $20 million EVERY YEAR just to reach the neighborhood occupied by the biggest spenders.
Not $20 million once.
$20 million again next year.
And potentially the year after that.
And the year after that.
If you divided a $20 million annual gap evenly across Clemson's roughly 201,656 living alumni, that's approximately $99 per living Clemson alumnus every single year, assuming every alumnus participated—which obviously they wouldn't.
If only 10% of Clemson's alumni funded it, about 20,000 people, you're talking approximately $1,000 apiece every year.
If only 2% participated, roughly 4,000 people, you're talking about approximately $5,000 per donor every year.
That is why these gigantic individual donors matter so much.
College football's financial arms race isn't simply about whose fan base cares more.
It is about how many potential donors you have, how wealthy that donor population is, whether you have billionaire-level boosters willing to participate, how aggressively your university organizes them and how much everyone involved is willing to spend on football.
Clemson isn't poor.
Clemson isn't small-time.
A $30 million roster is an enormous amount of money.
But when the opponent across the field has assembled something approaching a $50 million roster, Clemson is being asked to overcome a $20 million personnel gap before Dabo Swinney, his assistants or a single Clemson player even walks out of the tunnel.
That doesn't excuse bad coaching.
It doesn't excuse bad recruiting.
It doesn't excuse missed evaluations, mistakes in the portal, poor development or losing games you should win.
But you'd better include it in the discussion.
Because the sport has changed.
This isn't simply Clemson versus Miami, LSU, Texas, Ohio State or Oregon anymore.
It's Clemson's entire financial ecosystem versus theirs.
And unless Clemson discovers substantially more recurring revenue—or finds its own collection of mega-donors willing to underwrite the difference—telling Clemson to “just spend another $20 million” isn't a solution.
It's a bill.
So I'll ask Clemson fans again: Who is writing the check?
Fernando Valenzuela no-hit the Cardinals on June 29, 1990 at Dodger Stadium, leading Los Angeles to a 6-0 win.
Vin Scully was on the call and gave the final out a line built perfectly for Fernando. The no-hitter was the pitching achievement.
Scully's voice made the ending feel unmistakably tied to Los Angeles and the player who had inspired Fernandomania.