Inside Arch Manning’s wild recruitment saga
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Seth Wickersham
Editor’s note: This story is an excerpt from the book “American Kings: A Biography of the Quarterback,” which will be available on Sept. 9 from Disney Publishing’s Hyperion Avenue.
SENIOR NIGHT AT Isidore Newman School in Uptown New Orleans. Class of ’23. A warm October sunset. A tunnel of cheerleaders under the lights, with a line of football players waiting to have their names announced and to meet their parents at midfield, and little surprise over who will be called first.
He’s in full uniform, wearing a kelly green jersey, with a white number 16. He stands, slightly tilting back and forth, waiting. The field is bright and clean. He turns to his coach beside him.
“Do I run?” Arch Manning asks.
He is the top-rated high school quarterback in America. His talent and production and work ethic merit the status, but it’s his name that makes the future feel inevitable. He’s a Manning. His grandfather is Archie, a Southern icon. His Uncle Peyton is a two-time Super Bowl champion, a national icon. His Uncle Eli is a two-time Super Bowl champion, which in New York gets you pretty close to icon status. Arch knows no other kind of life. There’s no hiding.
The crowd buzzes. A fervor awaits. The structures framing the stadium at Newman seem to mirror stages of his life. He’d started playing, almost as soon as he could walk, on the playgrounds behind the north end zone. Parallel to the sidelines are classrooms and buildings where he went to elementary school and then high school. As he approaches the south end zone, seventeen years old and at the beginning of something, he stands in the shadows of Manning Fieldhouse, named in honor of his father and uncles, all Newman alums. Tonight, as a senior, he commands the stage with little left to prove. In three months, he will be a freshman at the University of Texas. Anything other than a college career that ends with him being the first overall draft pick will seem like potential unfulfilled, an expectation both comically unfair and a reality of the life he has chosen.
Coach Nelson Stewart looks back at Arch. Stewart played with Peyton when they were young. He’s known Arch since he was running on that kindergarten playground. He looks out to midfield now, to Arch’s parents, Cooper and Ellen.
“Do a smooth jog,” Stewart says.
“How fast?”
“Not fast.”
You can make the case that Arch Manning wasn’t born on April 27, 2004, but on October 4, 1969. That night, Archie Manning’s Ole Miss Rebels played Alabama. Archie was a handsome junior from Drew, Mississippi, a gifted, gritty kid carrying a deep hurt and living out a tireless urge to prove himself after his father’s death by suicide. He liked the position of quarterback. He studied those who played it, even as a kid. He reveled in the responsibility and the status it afforded him. It felt comfortable, manageable, an extension of self and ability. This was the first nationally televised night game in college football history. Archie threw for 436 yards and ran for 104 more, accounting for five touchdowns in a one-point loss, in what is now considered one of the greatest games of all time. He cried when the game ended. He was a legend, a folk hero, a song title, an All-American before he took an NFL snap, and even though he couldn’t have known it at the time, he was the beginning of a family franchise that would show no signs of slowing down almost six decades later. Arch was part of a lineage before he was a glint in Cooper and Ellen’s eyes. When Arch played fifth-grade flag football, Stewart and Cooper talked about moving him up to the middle school team but decided to keep him where he was, staving off the mania that awaited him. When he started high school, college coaches circled.
He fit the part: tall, muscular, thick, handsome, driven and with a beautiful release point. The hype grew. Read the headlines–“The Next Manning” or “Better Than Peyton?” or “Overrated”–and you know it’s been a long time since he felt like a little boy.
Arch can throw the deep out, he can settle teammates in the huddle and he can read a defense. On Senior Night, as he stands at midfield, you can almost feel the weight of what lies ahead, the way it presses down on him, when he hopes someone might light the way for the short, tentative jog from the end zone to midfield, from what’s now to what’s next.
FOUR YEARS EARLIER, first drive, first game, Arch saw something. It was a spring game against Archbishop Shaw High. He was in eighth grade. He stood near the line of scrimmage. He scanned the defense, like he had been trained to do, trying to decipher it, decode it, looking for keys, subtle tells. The right cornerback was in tight coverage against wide receiver Jarmone Sutherland. Newman had a slant route called, but this was inviting. Sutherland turned to Arch, wondering what to do. Arch gently tugged his face mask, signaling him to go deep.
Arch had already shown promise at the essential thing: throwing the ball. That was evident from the start, when he was playing flag football in fifth grade. “He had a good throwing motion,” Uncle Eli says. But what stood out to Eli is that “it made sense to him. Some people, they pick up a ball, and it just works.”
Every aspiring quarterback must decide at some point: Are you about this world? Are you willing to do what it takes? Do you want to leave the old version of yourself behind? Do you possess all of the strange traits–talent, smarts, drive, luck, the combination of broken in the right places and healed in the right places–to do it? There’s a chrysalis, a metamorphosis that takes place. It happened to Peyton and Eli. Both faced choices about what they were willing to sacrifice. As boys, these men dedicated their lives to this job.
Archie and Cooper and Peyton and Eli all tried to shield Arch. They wanted football to be fun. In flag football, Arch loved throwing touchdowns to his friends. But when Cooper took him to games, NFL or college, Arch barely said a word.
He silently studied what was taking place on the field. “Like he was taking a class,” Cooper says. He’d constantly ask Cooper to throw with him in the den, and after a few passes whizzed too close to Ellen’s head, she ordered them outside. One time, the family had a layover in Miami, and Arch had a ball, because he almost always had a ball, and he threw in the terminal. Cooper took Arch to camp at LSU. People started to notice, because of course, and Arch was offered a scholarship on the spot.
But he hadn’t actually done the thing. Not yet.
In the Archbishop Shaw High game, he got the ball and took a few steps back. He looked left, then center, preternaturally calm, then turned right and threw with zip and touch deep down the right sideline. It landed over Sutherland’s outside shoulder, perfect placement for a touchdown and the beginning of something beyond anyone’s control. He invoked a feeling, reminding those who saw it of what they felt the first time they witnessed it, and showed them what it looked like now.
In the stands, Cooper and his longtime friend Richard Montgomery turned to each other. “S—!” Montgomery said.
Cooper replied with a look that said here we go.
IT WAS EASY to get swept up in Arch and all the buzz, his every act being viewed through the prisms of precociousness and prelude, even for coach Nelson Stewart. As a freshman, Arch threw 38 touchdowns in eleven games. There was one game where Arch struggled, throwing a few interceptions, which is memorable to Stewart not only because it was the exception but because of what he saw. Every quarterback needs to find a way to bury doubt; the Mannings were no different. Stewart looked at Arch’s eyes as he came off the field. Arch was overwhelmed and stressed and looked . . .young. “I had to remind myself that he’s just a kid,” Stewart says.
Was it already too late? A documentary crew had called Cooper and asked if Arch wanted to be featured alongside some of the game’s legends, including John Elway. Cooper loved the idea but couldn’t do that to his kid. Archie created headlines when he told a reporter that his grandson was “a little ahead of” his sons when they were freshmen. What was intended as a simple observation of fact–neither Peyton nor Eli had started on varsity as freshmen–became a family member upping the hype and went viral, not just on recruiting sites and college message boards, but on actual news outlets. Stewart says that Arch was the first freshman to start an opener in school history.
When Arch was a sophomore, Stewart and Cooper met to lay out a plan. Both men felt like they were staring at a tsunami taking form in the distance.
“What do we want this to look like?” Stewart asked Cooper.
“We’re gonna do a 1975 recruitment,” Cooper said.
Cooper wanted the impossible: an environment where Arch could thrive as a quarterback, but also for him to not fall out of love with the game, and the job.
Cooper’s own recruitment was straightforward. He was a wide receiver, and he went to Ole Miss, the family school. Spinal stenosis cut his career short, but he nonetheless managed to become a legend–“a social legend”–in Peyton’s words. Peyton honored Cooper by switching his number from 16 to 18, which his older brother had worn at Newman. It was Cooper’s legacy: The football life could end at any moment.
“I want you to run point,” Cooper told Stewart. “Very old-school.”
Very old-school meant that Cooper wanted Stewart to be his son’s gatekeeper, organizer, spokesman, confidant, security guard, evangelist, strategist, and of course, head coach of what the family expected to be the most sophisticated high school offense in the country. And one more condition:
“No offers,” Cooper said.
“What does that mean?” Stewart asked.
“No offers. No talking to the media if we can.”
Scholarship offers are a barometer for top recruits, a tangible way to measure demand. Offers are also a way for college coaches to mark territory. What happens to a boy when so many people want to tell him where to do this, with whom to do it with, when so many people make decisions for him, and when there’s no way to know what the right choice is? “Nothing you’re doing as a freshman or sophomore is gonna be relevant in the big picture,” Cooper told Arch.
“We’re not doing that crap,” Cooper said.
“All right,” Stewart said.
The plan quickly faced its first test. One day Stewart returned to his office after teaching class to see Ole Miss head coach Lane Kiffin sitting in his chair. He told Stewart,
“I have to offer this kid.”
“I don’t know how to tell you this,” Stewart said. “But we’re not, you know . . .”
Still, Kiffin wanted his world, the world of college coaches and of recruiting junkies, to know that he was already staking his claim. Kiffin took a selfie at Stewart’s desk and posted it on social media.
It was on.
ARCH MANNING HAD his own command center: Nelson Stewart’s office. Only Arch wasn’t in command, and for the most part, neither was Stewart. College coaches often showed up for the sake of showing up, setting up shop at Stewart’s empty desk while he taught class, just popping up on campus with little or sometimes no warning. Some schools–Ohio State, Princeton, Texas A&M, Rutgers–stopped by once, hoping for mutual interest. But for most of 2021, there was a steady stream of fifteen or so coaches from the main contenders: Texas, Alabama, Ole Miss, and Georgia. NCAA rules forbade them from regularly talking to Arch, so they were there to be seen by him–and to get to know the quarterback by getting to know the coach. They’d sit down and talk ball with Stewart, who would take notes and steal ideas, losing track of time and hustling off to teach. When he glanced at his phone, the screen was filled with text messages and voicemails from other coaches. Coaches would FaceTime Stewart, hoping that Arch happened to be with him, a way to sneak in actual face time. On the day of the 2020 NFL Draft, when the Bengals picked Joe Burrow first overall, LSU coaches FaceTimed Stewart, hoping Arch was in the background. He was. The message was clear: You can be next.
Arch was nominally aware and acutely oblivious to it all. He just went about his thing, existing, playing golf, watching every episode of “Friday Night Lights,” and playing quarterback. He was self-assured, cocky but endearing, good-natured and calm. Arch had Peyton’s situational intensity, Eli’s situational indifference, Cooper’s situational savvy, and his own sincerity. He was a byproduct of the entire Manning infrastructure, the receptor of every aspect of quarterback intelligence that this iconic family had learned through the decades. He had a quick release, an inheritance and the result of hours of work with his uncles and coaches. He went to Tulane for arm care. He had a huge trunk, thick thighs, and a quick torso, honed from drills useless in any other field. One day Arch sat in on a meeting with New Orleans Saints coaches and scouts as they evaluated the quarterbacks in that year’s draft.
Grandpa Archie seemed more engaged with his grandson’s recruitment than he had been with his own kids’, often leaving Stewart long voice memos. Uncle Eli was there to answer any of Arch’s questions, but he knew better than to impose–he had been in Arch’s shoes, as the youngest taking on this job and all that attended it. But the benefits were undeniable.
Arch and Cooper flew from New Orleans to Denver, where Uncle Peyton lived. They worked out at the Broncos facility. Peyton also got Clyde Christensen, a longtime NFL offensive coach who’d worked with him in Indianapolis and Tom Brady in Tampa Bay, to send private videos of Brady’s practices, melding the best of Manning’s theories with Brady’s techniques, two legends funneling into a boy. Peyton texted them to Stewart, telling him to run those drills. There were dozens of video clips.
Arch visited Clemson twice, Alabama four times, Georgia four times, Texas four times, Ole Miss a few times, LSU, and even Virginia. Of all places, Cooper liked Virginia for his son for one reason: It wasn’t a football crazy school. He could live under the radar. His older sister, May, was a student there. As Cooper and Arch walked through campus, the father saw an opportunity for something close to peacefulness. “You could come here, be a normal guy,” Cooper told him. “No one’s gonna mess with you.”
Cooper wasn’t a classic quarterback dad, but he was learning fast and wasn’t afraid to be cutthroat. Peyton would sometimes hop on the phone with Stewart after games, going through play-calling, and then would follow up a day later wondering if the school needed any donations. Eli, meanwhile, would purchase thousands of dollars of equipment for Newman without telling anyone. New shoulder pads would just show up.
Stewart taught five classes a day. Visiting coaches learned his schedule. Tuesdays at 10 a.m., Stewart’s job was to watch Newman’s pre-K kids on the playground where Arch had once played. College coaches, with nothing better to do, pitched in. Pete Golding, then Alabama’s defensive coordinator, pushed kids on the swings. So did Bill O’Brien, then the Tide’s offensive coordinator. Nobody minded; they were with Stewart. Texas coach Steve Sarkisian showed Arch the play sheet from Alabama’s national championship over Ohio State when he was a Crimson Tide assistant. Golding would FaceTime Sarkisian from Stewart’s office, just to tweak him.
Ever the offensive lineman, Stewart tried to protect his quarterback, lead-blocking through fans after games to get Arch to his car. Other times, the backup quarterback, Christian Sauska, would come out and claim to be Arch and pose for selfies. Never in the history of humankind has it been easier to check a face, famous or otherwise, yet people fell for it.
One day Golding took a photo of his dip cup on Nelson’s desk and texted it to Sarkisian, his buddy: “Guess where I am?” Sark started to freak out and he rapid-texted Stewart. On another day, Sarkisian pranked Kiffin by saying that he’d spoken with Arch at least one hundred times. Sure enough, Kiffin exploded on the other end of the phone.
One day, someone sent Stewart a link. It was for an Arch Manning autographed football. The price: $957. It was almost impossible for him to process. He showed it to Cooper, who shook his head and lamented.
“Put my last name on it . . .”
NOBODY KNEW WHERE Arch Manning wanted to go to school. Some in the family preferred Georgia, where head coach Kirby Smart would coach him hard. Others, Alabama. The problem for Alabama was that Nick Saban — whom the Crimson Tide assistants affectionally called “Daddy” — was getting up there in years, and nobody knew how long he’d be there. Texas kept lingering. Competition was so fierce that everything was fair game. It was public record that Steve Sarkisian had battled alcoholism, a disease that nearly cost him his career. Sark had rebuilt his life and work in recovery. But during one Zoom call with Arch, Golding was discussing Alabama’s schematics and culture, and then he went there.
“I love Sark,” Golding said. “He’s my best friend.” He paused. “I hope he can stay sober.”
After the Zoom ended, Stewart called Golding. “Pete, that’s f—ed up!”
Golding knew. He had no choice.
“Daddy’s on me.”
In June of 2022, Nelson Stewart served as a counselor at the Manning Passing Academy in Thibodaux, Louisiana, the annual camp in the sticks that’s as much of a tour stop on the high school quarterback junket as Elite 11, thirty-some years strong. Arch has been at the camp since he was in middle school and is the most tenured attendee in the camp’s history. Stewart was overseeing a drill at another camp, due to arrive to Thibodaux late, when he looked at his phone and saw that he had missed five calls from Arch. He wondered if something was wrong. He called back. Cooper answered.
“Someone wants to talk to you,” Cooper said.
“Coach,” Arch said, “I just want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me and how you’ve handled it. I just want to let you know that I’ve decided to formally commit and play at Texas.”
He liked Sark. He especially liked that Sark was the head coach and the play-caller, increasing the odds that he’d be there for the duration of Arch’s time. Texas was a good school, in case he were to suffer a career-ending injury. He liked that Texas was joining the Southeastern Conference. Texas had just finished an 8-5 season when he committed; he wanted to be part of an upswing, of bringing something back.
Holy s–t! Stewart thought. “I’m proud of you,” he said. He started to well up. Arch told him he needed to call more people before news broke. “Coach, I’ve got a lot of people to thank.”
“You’re good,” Stewart said.
“Do me a favor,” Arch said. “Don’t tell anybody. It’s a secret.”
Within minutes, A.J. Milwee, Texas’s quarterbacks coach, called.
“What’s up?” Stewart said, knowing exactly what was up. They danced around the obvious.
“I can’t talk,” Milwee said. “But I can’t believe this, we did it.”
“Yeah, man. I’m so happy for you.”
News broke. Texts flooded in from coaches who had been a part of Stewart’s life for the past few years. Alabama’s Pete Golding called Stewart. Saban wanted an explanation.
“Why Texas?” Golding asked.
Stewart listed all the reasons, including that Arch had once said that he felt Austin was big enough that he wouldn’t be recognized.
“Stop,” Golding said. “No motherf—ing way.”
YOU KNOW THE moment. It happens every game. When the quarterback takes over. When he creates and alters momentum, when he separates himself, when we know, everyone knows, why this job is different. Arch Manning’s seminal moment is in the third quarter of a close game on Senior Night, closer than expected. The Greenies face third-and-29. There are no plays for that situation. Arch gets the ball. He stands in the pocket as it breaks from behind, and skips forward, eyes downfield, until nobody obstructs his view, and he sees a chance, a deep post route. He sets. He’s at his own 26-yard line. The ball launches into air, above the stadium lights and into the darkness, then down again, nose over nose until it drops at the opponent’s 15-yard line, into the arms of his receiver for a first down, 60 yards traveled in all. The local television broadcaster says wow four times, yet that seems insufficient.
After Newman wins, players gather in the end zone. Stewart addresses them. Arch is on a knee, toward the back. Stewart paces, calling out high and low points. Then he stops. He holds a ball.
“I’m about to embarrass him,” he says.
Arch looks down. He had started Senior Night by sitting with the freshmen at the team dinner; it was important to him to connect with every player, regardless of stature or age. He’s ending it with a reminder of who he is, was, and where he’s going.
“I’d argue tonight was his toughest game,” Stewart says. “He got hit a bunch. He got up every time. He didn’t yell at the line once. He kept his poise. That’s what being a leader is. Now Arch has 129 career touchdowns. He’s our career leader.”
The team applauds.
Arch brings the team together and gives them a rally cry for the night. The kids disperse, toward the fence separating the stands from the field. Parents and friends gather. Seniors pose for selfies. Arch wanders over, his path stopped for a photo or autograph, half dozen in all. A life is just beginning, and Arch has yet to face the crossroads that his famous family members did. In two months, he would clean out his locker. It was a mess. Cooper shook his head. Arch sifted through stuff, tossing things away as he went, when both men noticed something buried in the back and at the bottom. It was a trophy. It had a football player kneeling. It was what he’d been awarded when he won the Bobby Dodd National High School Player of the Year from the Touchdown Club of Atlanta. Archie had won Touchdown Club’s version of the award in 1969. Peyton had won it in 1993. Eli had won a different award from the same club in 2003. Cooper told Arch that it should be in his room or in a trophy case. Arch gave it to his dad to figure out. In three months, he’d be a freshman at Texas, and property of the public in an even greater way than he is now.
In 2024, after he got his first career start and helped the Longhorns defeat Louisiana-Monroe, the life he knew would change; something he had prepared for and thought about caught him by surprise. Kids wanted his photo as he walked through campus. Dinners out took on a new meaning. He could not hide in Austin, and in fact he was easier to spot than ever. You think you know when you’re starting to lose control of your life, but you don’t until it happens. He texted Eli: Can we chat for little bit? Eli figured it was to talk ball. It was to talk fame. How do you handle this stuff ? Eli had a few rules. It’s okay to say no. It’s okay to tell people to wait until after dinner. Tell the team: No photos with anyone drinking alcohol. If you blink at the wrong time holding a beer, it’ll live on the internet forever, coming up after the inevitable bad game. They were tips, but not answers. Eli didn’t offer solutions. There are none.
One morning after Arch is gone, Stewart is at his office when he gets word that Peyton is going to stop by Isidore Newman the next day. He won’t be alone. He’ll be with his young teenage son, Marshall.
They need a place to throw.
Sports
At a place known for Franco Harris and Saquon Barkley, RBs Nicholas Singleton and Kaytron Allen doing record things
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Jake Trotter
STATE COLLEGE, Pa. — On the field, Nicholas Singleton and Kaytron Allen complement one another out of the Nittany Lions’ backfield like a scoop of cookies-n-cream from Penn State‘s Berkey Creamery.
Off the field, the star rushing duo and longtime roommates see few differences. They’re both quiet, soft-spoken and football junkies.
“He’s like my twin,” Allen said. “We down near like the same person, just in different bodies.”
In their final season together, the two seniors have an opportunity to make history — in multiple ways.
According to ESPN Research, Singleton and Allen are the first Power 4 running back duo to each rush for 750-plus yards in three consecutive seasons since at least 1996. (Indiana’s Antwaan Randle El and Levron Williams matched the feat from 1999-2001, but Randle El was a quarterback).
Singleton and Allen are well on their way to making it a fourth straight year.
Allen has rushed for 273 yards while averaging 8.0 yards per carry; Singleton is at 179 yards and 4.4. The two have combined for eight touchdowns.
Even more impressively, each is within striking distance of breaking Penn State’s career rushing record.
“Penn State’s got an unbelievable history at the running back position,” Nittany Lions coach James Franklin said of an illustrious alumni group that includes reigning NFL Offensive Player of the Year Saquon Barkley, Pro Football Hall of Famer Franco Harris and 1995 No. 1 draft pick Ki-Jana Carter. “Great, great players. And yet these guys have shared carries their entire careers. … So that’s a crazy stat.”
Evan Royster (2007-10) holds the record with 3,932 yards. Barkley is second at 3,843. Allen (3,150) and Singleton (3,091) are each within 900 yards of passing Royster with nine regular-season games left.
“Finishing 1 and 2 at Penn State would be crazy,” Singleton said. “We want to leave here with a legacy. But our [main] goal is to win a national championship.”
Penn State hasn’t won a national championship since 1986.
But with a backfield featuring Singleton, Allen and veteran quarterback Drew Allar, the Nittany Lions believe this is the year they can finally get over the hump.
On Saturday, with ESPN’s “College GameDay” in town, No. 3 Penn State faces sixth-ranked Oregon before a prime-time “White Out” crowd (7:30 p.m. ET, NBC) with a golden opportunity to jump-start its title quest.
“This is going to be a statement game for our season,” Allen said.
Statements have eluded the Nittany Lions in recent history. Singleton and Allen each rushed for more than 100 yards in last year’s Big Ten title game, but the Ducks prevailed 45-37.
The Nittany Lions still made the College Football Playoff.
But under Franklin, Penn State is 4-20 against AP top-10 opponents. Singleton and Allen have only two career wins against top-10 teams — Utah in the Rose Bowl following the 2022 season and Boise State in last year’s CFP quarterfinals.
After falling in the CFP semifinals on Notre Dame’s game-winning field goal to end their junior seasons, Singleton and Allen both considered leaving for the NFL draft. Multiple NFL scouts told ESPN last winter that they viewed the two backs as potential second- or third-round picks.
But neither wanted to end their college careers on such a crushing loss. They also wanted one more season playing and living alongside one another.
“We both came in together,” Singleton said. “Now, we want to finish this off the right way.”
Allen and Singleton first met during a recruiting visit in 2021 when Penn State played Auburn. Because neither talks much, it took time for them to get to know one another well. But while vying for carries as freshmen, the two developed a friendship — instead of a rivalry.
“It was never about trying to go against each other,” Allen said. “We were both trying to take advantage of our opportunities, helping each other out and pushing one another. That’s my brother. We’ve both just been trying to help each other reach our goals.”
When Singleton found a new two-bed apartment before their sophomore season, he asked Allen to room with him.
Now, the two are virtually inseparable.
They claim that they’ve never had a fight or argument. They’re both neat and so low-key, they never bother one another. They also share almost everything, including groceries.
“He’s such a humble guy, a really good roommate and an even better person,” Singleton said. “I can go talk to him about anything. … And he makes sure he does everything right.”
They’ve also made each other better players, keeping one another fresh late in games and late in the season. Combined, they’ve missed only one game – Singleton against UCLA last year.
“The season is long,” Singleton said. “A lot of running backs are getting 20-30 carries a game and they take a beating. We split carries and that keeps us healthy.”
Their complementary skill sets have also given Penn State one of the nation’s most effective rushing attacks. Since they arrived in 2022, the Nittany Lions rank ninth among Power 4 teams in rushing yards per game (190.6) and fourth in yards per rush after contact (3.07).
Singleton and Allen see themselves as college football’s version of Jahmyr Gibbs and David Montgomery, who powered the Detroit Lions to a 15-2 record and top seed in the NFC last year.
Like Gibbs, Singleton brings the speed, with reliable hands to haul in passes out of the backfield. Like Montgomery, Allen brings the power, with the vision to exploit open running lanes between the tackles. Franklin said the “combination” of what they can do is what makes them “such a problem” for defenses.
“Nick has been one of the most consistent players in terms of his preparation that I’ve been around,” Franklin said. “Kaytron is faster, stronger and more explosive than he’s ever been.”
In turn, Singleton and Allen have given the Nittany Lions reason to believe this could finally be their season — and make this one final ride even more special.
“We ain’t never going to get this moment back,” Allen said. “So we’re just trying to make the most of it.”
One of the most anticipated weekends on the 2025 college football calendar is upon us.
The headliner comes Saturday night when No. 6 Oregon visits No. 3 Penn State. A potentially season-defining occasion, the clash of Big Ten powers, will test quarterbacks Drew Allar (Penn State) and Dante Moore (Oregon), Nittany Lions coach James Franklin and the Ducks’ backbone as they step into the hostile confines of Beaver Stadium in Week 5.
Elsewhere, eyes will fall on a trio of juicy SEC matchups: Alabama–Georgia, Auburn–Texas A&M and Ole Miss–LSU, all of which could hold significant implications for the conference title race and the College Football Playoff field.
Ahead of a series of high-level games, our college football reporters deliver their insights on keys to the weekend’s biggest matchups, five quarterbacks putting themselves on the map this fall and the best quotes so far from Week 5. — Eli Lederman
Jump to:
Georgia-Alabama | Quarterbacks to know
Key conference matchups
Quotes of the Week
What does each team need to capitalize on to win?
Georgia: If the Bulldogs are going to defeat the Crimson Tide for only the second time in the past 11 meetings, they’ll have to avoid getting themselves in another big hole — and take advantage of playing Alabama at home for the first time in nearly 10 years.
In last season’s 41-34 loss in Tuscaloosa, the Bulldogs trailed by three touchdowns before the end of the first quarter and by 28 points less than 18 minutes into the game. Georgia put together a furious rally in the fourth quarter, scoring three straight touchdowns to grab a 34-33 lead.
The Crimson Tide won on Jalen Milroe‘s 75-yard scoring pass to Ryan Williams with 2:18 to go.
Georgia had a similar slow start in its 44-41 victory in overtime at Tennessee on Sept. 13. The Volunteers scored touchdowns on their first three possessions to take a 21-7 lead, and the Bulldogs had to come from behind on the road. They were fortunate that Tennessee missed a 43-yard field goal attempt to take the lead near the end of regulation.
The Bulldogs didn’t do a good job of containing Milroe last season. He threw for 374 yards with two touchdowns and ran for 117 yards with two scores, including several long runs to keep drives alive. New Tide quarterback Ty Simpson isn’t as fast as Milroe, but he also isn’t a statue standing in the pocket.
Williams burned Georgia’s secondary on some big plays last season, finishing with six catches for 177 yards. The Bulldogs had similar problems against Tennessee’s fast-paced offense, and they’ll have to shore up those mistakes and play better on the back end. Getting pressure on Simpson would also help; the Bulldogs had only four sacks in their first three games this season.
On offense, Georgia needs to do a better job of protecting quarterback Gunner Stockton, who took too many hits at Tennessee. The Bulldogs need to find more ways to get the ball into the hands of Zachariah Branch, and tight ends Oscar Delp and Lawson Luckie also need to get their share of touches. Shoring up the right side of the offensive line, which has been a trouble spot, will allow them to be more involved in the passing game. — Mark Schlabach
Alabama: It has not been pretty for Alabama on the road under Kalen DeBoer. Alabama is 2-4 since he became head coach, including a 31-17 loss to Florida State to open the season. In that loss, the Crimson Tide looked lethargic at times and ended up being beaten up front on both sides of the ball. So to give themselves any chance against Georgia, their first road game since Week 1, they simply must play better on the offensive and defensive lines. Getting defensive lineman Tim Keenan III back from an ankle injury will be huge in that respect. Alabama has struggled to rush the passer without him, and has only four sacks on the season. Georgia has done a nice job using Gunner Stockton in the run game when needed, so slowing him down is also going to be key. That is also an area in which Alabama struggled against the Seminoles.
On the other side of the ball, offensive coordinator Ryan Grubb said it would continue to rotate its starting offensive line unit to find the right combination. Getting Jam Miller back at running back is also is a big addition, not only because of his running ability but his presence as a pass blocker in the backfield. But more than anything, defensive coordinator Kane Wommack said the team was eager to prove it has learned how to handle adversity in-game, something that cost it in the opener.
“There’s a difference when you have to go on the road, particularly in the SEC and in a hostile environment and respond to adversity,” Wommack said. “At times, we have been a team that has been reactionary to adversity, and we’ve got to be more responsive. It’s at the forefront of our minds, and I expect to see a very responsive football team on Saturday.” — Andrea Adelson
Five quarterbacks who are putting themselves on the map
Curt Cignetti found a gem via the transfer portal yet again. Mendoza was solid at Cal the past two years, but he was surrounded with little talent and playing in an offense that probably didn’t maximize his skill set. Turned loose at Indiana, he has looked like a genuine Heisman Trophy candidate, including a dominant five-touchdown performance in a win over Illinois. For the season, Mendoza has 14 touchdown passes without an interception.
When Castellanos talked smack about Alabama this summer, it became a national punchline. When he backed it up with a win over the Tide in Week 1, he had the last laugh. Through three games, Castellanos’ 91.6 Total QBR ranks third nationally, though he’ll be in for a test the next two weeks — a road trip to Virginia on Friday for what could be a shootout and then a showdown against rival Miami. If Castellanos takes down another top-five team, the Heisman might be his to lose.
A part of the same class as Drew Allar, Pribula wasn’t able to get onto the field with any regularity at Penn State. He entered the portal and landed at Missouri, but he didn’t win the starting job there until just before the opener. And yet, once he was given his chance to shine, Pribula has looked like a star. He has racked up 11 TDs so far this season and has the Tigers undefeated and trending up in the rankings.
The sixth-year senior has been through his share of growing pains. He was a well-regarded recruit at Colorado but was part of the brutal 2021 season that led to the arrival of coach Deion Sanders, then transferred to Nevada, where his team struggled again. Now he has found the right fit at Memphis, where he has the Tigers 4-0 and well positioned to snag the Group of 6’s playoff spot.
North Texas is 4-0 and Mestemaker has 10 TD passes and no picks. It’d be a great story if that was all there was to it. But this rags-to-riches tale goes much deeper. Mestemaker wasn’t even the starter at his high school and arrived at UNT as a walk-on. He got the start in last year’s bowl game after Chandler Morris entered the portal, then beat out Reese Poffenbarger for the starting job this fall. He has rewarded the Mean Green’s belief with a red-hot start to the season. — David Hale
Biggest things that need to happen in these matchups
Auburn-Texas A&M: This series has been a strange one since 2021. The Aggies won twice at home, both times by 17 points. Auburn won twice at home, by three in 2022 and then two last year, in a 43-41 upset in four overtimes. This game, in College Station, will be another interesting one. The Aggies are coming off a bye week after their upset of Notre Dame, their first nonconference road win against an AP top-10 team since 1979. Auburn lost 24-17 at Oklahoma and is 0-5 under Hugh Freeze against ranked teams on the road. For the Tigers, they’ll first need to shore up an offensive line that gave up eight sacks on Jackson Arnold from a standard pass rush. But Auburn will look to move the ball with its rushing attack (198 yards per game, 5.0 yards per carry) against the Aggies, who are giving up 139 yards per game on the ground and are 102nd nationally in scoring defense at 28.7 points. But if the Aggies can get Arnold into being one-dimensional and having to play from behind, that will give them an advantage. They can do so by utilizing the dynamic duo of Mario Craver, the SEC’s leading receiver with 443 yards, even with the bye week (he had seven catches for 207 yards against Notre Dame), and KC Concepcion, who had four catches for 82 yards against the Irish. — Dave Wilson
LSU-Ole Miss: Last season’s showdown went to overtime in Baton Rouge. Expect another tight battle that comes down to details and who capitalizes on opportunities. Third-down conversions are going to be essential. Ole Miss’ offense is 5-of-17 on third and medium (3 to 7 yards) this season, and LSU’s defense is getting stops on 14 of 22 chances in that spot. This is where Lane Kiffin’s decision at QB becomes even more critical. Trinidad Chambliss is averaging 12.3 yards per carry on third downs and has yet to take a third-down sack. Can he be efficient in those high-pressure moments against the best defense he has faced? For LSU’s offense, the big question is injured running back Caden Durham‘s availability and finding answers in the run game so Garrett Nussmeier isn’t frequently stuck in third-and-long. The Tigers’ average third-down distance this season has been 7.9 yards, which ranks 114th in FBS, according to ESPN Research. — Max Olson
Oregon-Penn State: Quarterback Drew Allar needs to be a reason — perhaps the reason — why the Nittany Lions notch a signature win in a game in which they have most of the advantages. Allar wasn’t overly sharp in his past two performances, completing fewer than 58% of his passes against both Villanova and Florida International. He will need to be sharper against a talented but quite young Oregon defense, and start to change his big-game rep. Oregon must show it can handle one of the toughest environments in college football, Beaver Stadium at night in a White Out. The game marks a big growth opportunity for Ducks quarterback Dante Moore, a first-year starter, and also promising young players such as wide receiver Dakorien Moore and defensive backs Brandon Finney Jr. and Aaron Flowers. The Ducks visited Michigan and Wisconsin in 2024, but they haven’t faced an elite Big Ten opponent on the road until now. — Adam Rittenberg
Quotes of the Week
“We need this place rocking,” Penn State coach James Franklin said ahead of the Nittany Lions’ White Out game against No. 6 Oregon. “Need to have a distinct home-field advantage. We always do, but I’m expecting this to be an environment like no one has ever seen.”
“We’ll do everything we can to be prepared for that environment for sure,” said Oregon’s Dan Lanning, who was also asked about the song “Mo Bamba”, which has become a fixture of No. 3 Penn State home games. “I don’t love that song.”
“I would say he’s probably the hottest quarterback right now in all of college football,” Georgia’s Kirby Smart said of Alabama’s Ty Simpson ahead of the Bulldogs’ Week 5 visit from the No. 17 Crimson Tide. “His two last outings, I don’t know [if] I’ve seen an incompletion. The ball does not hit the ground. He’s been accurate. He’s been quick with the ball. They’re really hard to defend because of their skill. They’ve got tremendous skill — receivers, backs, tight ends. But you got to have a trigger guy that can get those guys the ball and they do.”
“We ain’t with that get-back stuff,” Colorado’s Deion Sanders said as his team prepares to face No. 25 BYU nine months after the Cougars blew out the Buffaloes in the 2024 Valero Alamo Bowl. “I ain’t with that get-back stuff. I’m with that let’s-get-them stuff. They played their butts off, kicked our butts in the bowl game. Now we have a whole new team.”
“I always love when you guys say that, like, ‘Oh, OK, now we’ll go actually, like, try and game-plan really hard,” Ole Miss’ Lane Kiffin said with the Rebels set to host No. 4 LSU on Saturday. “It’s OK. My boss says the same things when we play Arkansas. ‘Hey, I really need this one.’ Oh, OK, well then we’ll actually, like, try this week. We were just going to not try.”
“Is it hot in here or is it just me every week?” Oklahoma State’s Mike Gundy speaking to reporters three days after the Cowboys 19-12 loss to Tulsa and less than 24 hours before he was fired Tuesday morning after his 21st season in charge of the program.
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