I tried giving Pat McAfee a pass but College GameDay proved me wrong

I started writing this column in 2024.

Actually, I got pretty far into it before deciding that perhaps I was being a little too hard on Pat McAfee. Maybe his antics on ESPN's College GameDay weren't quite as obnoxious as I thought. Maybe I was just being an old-school college football curmudgeon who couldn't appreciate the energy he brought to Saturday mornings.

So I shelved it. Let the man do his thing, I figured. No need to pile on when McAfee already has plenty of critics.

That was awfully generous of me.

As it turns out, Pat McAfee has spent the past two years making a liar out of me to myself. And his latest escapades at the University of Utah might be the final confirmation that my original instincts were right.

During the October 24 College GameDay broadcast from Salt Lake City, McAfee apparently took exception to a university social media video featuring students doing impressions of him. One called him 'corny'. Another suggested his shirtless antics were 'creepy'.

That's it. College kids simply poking a little fun at a guy who's made an incredibly lucrative career out of being bombastic, irreverent, and occasionally ridiculous -- and poking fun at other people.

The horror.

McAfee didn't see the humor. He made his displeasure known during the broadcast, picked Houston to beat Utah, and suggested he'd rather not see the Utes' student section again. On Monday, he doubled down, saying he hoped never to return to the university and joking that he might suddenly come down with COVID if GameDay made another visit.

To be fair, McAfee said his biggest objection was that the university's official social media account shared the video. And his concerns about personal safety shouldn't automatically be dismissed. But there's still something quite ironic about a man who routinely makes himself the center of the joke becoming so upset when someone else gets to deliver the punchline.

And apparently, Utah wasn't the only thing on McAfee's nerves.

During that same Monday broadcast, McAfee revealed that CBS's 60 Minutes had approached him about doing a profile for the show. He rejected the invitation and announced that he was declining media requests from any publication, supposedly forever.

Forever? That's a mighty long time for someone who makes his living talking into microphones. His own declaration of independence, I suppose?

McAfee is a personality who has built his brand on saying whatever he wants, whenever he wants. Now he seems unusually uncomfortable with the idea that other people might have something to say about him.

Which brings me back to the column I started two years ago.

The unfinished symphony has been pulled out of the drawer, dusted off, and given another listen. And after watching McAfee turn a little coed ribbing into a national controversy, I'm no longer inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt.

How Pat McAfee went from College GameDay's spark to its biggest distraction

ESPN's College GameDay needed a shot of energy when McAfee arrived. What it didn't need was for that shot of energy to become the entire show, or for one cast member's grievances to start overshadowing the college football traditions the show was built to celebrate.

There's no denying that ESPN College GameDay, for all its much-loved tradition, had begun to become stale. ESPN had ridden a wave of unprecedented success with its college football pregame show for decades, but some of the magic began to fade in recent years.

Layoffs, cutbacks, and seemingly unhappy employees forced fan favorites such as Maria Taylor, David Pollack, Chris "Bear" Fallica, and Tom Rinaldi off the stage, and in many cases, the replacements were simply not palatable for fans.

Enter ESPN golden boy Pat McAfee, who has turned a post-NFL punting career into a mogul-like broadcasting cash cow. His podcast was picked up by ESPN for a record amount of money, he's everywhere on social media, and formerly held down a job as a color analyst for WWE when he wasn't busy with college football.

It's that Hulk Hogan-ish energy that made fans take notice when McAfee first appeared on College GameDay in 2019. His boisterous personality and fun antics brought some much-needed juice to a show that was flatlining.

After numerous appearances and "did he actually say and do that?" moments on the show, ESPN decided to make McAfee a full-fledged cast member in 2022, and from that point on, the king of tank tops and tacky jewelry dug in and began to make the show his personal nationally televised playhouse.

Did it work? At first glance, yes. McAfee's regular inclusion on the show might be a reason for improved ratings. ESPN released a statement after the 2023 season showing how well things were going.

Those numbers have continued to grow. 2024 was a record-breaking year for the show in ratings, and is pacing well ahead of previous years, with multiple episodes drawing near or above 3 million average viewers

But was Pat McAfee really the reason for the jump? While, on the surface, that might be a partial explanation, you also need to think about the diversity of stops the show made in recent seasons and having better guests join the show as a more probable reason for ratings improvement.

And even if McAfee is the underlying reason for an improvement in ratings, quick fixes -- just as in football -- can lead to even quicker downturns.

Is Pat McAfee wearing out his welcome on ESPN College GameDay?

Week after week, McAfee transparently attempts to endear himself to fans of the host school, bellowing cheers from the stage and dressing in garb endeavoring to blend in with local flavors and traditions -- oftentimes, getting things completely wrong.

Other cast members often can barely complete a sentence without McAfee flamboyantly interrupting and interjecting his own thoughts or poorly fashioned jokes. It almost seems as if he gets uncomfortable anytime attention is drawn away from him.

His "energy" has quickly become boorish and even childish at times. What was once a lighthearted sideshow has morphed into a full three-ring circus, and for a guy who is paid to be an analyst, he does very little actual analysis.

But ESPN doesn't have to sacrifice that energy. They can have all that and still get some well-prepared, expert analysis as well as a deep-rooted knowledge of the game by making a simple trade.

While Pat McAfee is flexing and showing off his belt buckles on ESPN, veteran broadcaster and fellow ESPN employee Joe Tessitore is filling McAfee's seat (quite nicely, by the way) on WWE Monday Night RAW.

Joe Tessitore shows ESPN doesn't have to choose between energy and professionalism

When I first started writing this column, I thought I'd come up with the perfect solution to what I viewed as ESPN's Pat McAfee problem.

Trade him for Joe Tessitore.

Not literally, of course. But with McAfee splitting his time between College GameDay and WWE, and Tessitore doing outstanding work in both college football and professional wrestling, it seemed like a natural exchange.

Let McAfee entertain the wrestling crowds, where outrageous personalities and over-the-top theatrics are part of the attraction, and being able to scream into the microphone is a plus. Give Tessitore a seat at the College GameDay desk, where his knowledge of college football, broadcasting experience, and famous infectious enthusiasm would be right at home.

The Tess Effect every Saturday morning. Everybody wins, right? Well, that idea didn't age particularly well.

McAfee announced in August that he wasn't returning to WWE television, essentially eliminating one side of my imaginary blockbuster trade. Apparently, the wrestling world will have to find a way to survive without him.

But that doesn't mean I was wrong, because the more important part of that original argument still holds up. Joe Tessitore is proof that ESPN doesn't have to choose between an entertaining personality and a knowledgeable broadcaster.

Anyone who watched Tessitore during his stint on SEC Nation knows he can bring plenty of excitement to a college football Saturday. He's enthusiastic, quick-witted, and comfortable interacting with passionate fans. He understands the traditions and rivalries that make the sport special, and he knows how to let those moments breathe. More importantly, when it's time to talk football, he can actually talk football.

That's the distinction ESPN seems to have forgotten.

Being energetic doesn't require shouting over your colleagues. Being entertaining doesn't mean turning every segment into a personal showcase. And connecting with a college football crowd doesn't mean donning a school's colors, screaming its fight song, howling fan cheers, and hoping nobody notices when you get something wrong.

Tessitore has made a career out of making big moments feel bigger without constantly reminding viewers who's holding the microphone. Would he be a perfect replacement for McAfee? No broadcaster is perfect, and College GameDay has always benefited from having different personalities around the desk.

But Tessitore represents something the show could use more of: enthusiasm that complements the broadcast rather than dominates it or competes with it.

Maybe my original WWE trade proposal is dead. That doesn't mean the idea behind it was wrong. ESPN doesn't need to get rid of the energy McAfee brought to College GameDay. It just needs to remember that energy is supposed to come from college football, not from one guy determined to be louder than everyone else.

Add us as a preferred source on Google

Follow