Week 4 gave us plenty of moments to write home about. From Kansas reaching a 4-0 status (yes, the Jayhawks are in fact the real deal), to one of the most incredible plays of the entire year, we got a little bit of everything that makes college football great.
Wildest play
Watch this play. Then watch it over and over and over again. Not only is it incredible, but it might have saved Texas A&M’s season, as the Aggies held on for a 23-21 win over Arkansas.
play
1:32
Tyreek Chappell comes away with a fumble recovery and hands it off to Demani Richardson, who takes it 81 yards to the crib for the Aggies.
It’s one of the wildest plays not just of the weekend but the entire 2022 season.
Let the Heisman campaigning begin
Kansas quarterback Jalon Daniels made no preseason watch lists before the season began. But through four games, he is making everyone sit up and take notice. Daniels has emerged as an efficient, prolific dual-threat quarterback who can do it all — run, throw, and yes, even kick.
“I was able to punt the ball my freshman year once and I’ve just been waiting for them to call that play again,” Daniels said. “So it felt nice to be able to show that I’m able to do a few more things.”
He has already done plenty. Against Duke, Daniels threw for 324 yards and ran for another 83, scoring five times. He scored five times the week before in an upset win over Houston, making him the first quarterback in school history with multiple games scoring five or more touchdowns. The fast start to the season has all led to some early Heisman talk and a little creativity from the Kansas social media team.
After the game, coach Lance Leipold was asked whether Daniels and Heisman should be said in the same sentence. Leipold had to stop himself after starting, “That’s not for …” before changing course and saying, “You know, he’s a heck of a player. So yeah, I’m all for it. Who’s ever running the campaign? Let’s get it going. I don’t vote. I just say this: He’s done a heck of a job getting a lot of people to take notice and take this program seriously.” — Andrea Adelson
Best upset
Middle Tennessee’s 45-31 victory over Miami was consequential in the way that a major upset — Miami was a 25.5-point favorite — always is. It became even more so with the way that three different plays or clips ended up going viral.
First, you had an atrocious run play that was most noteworthy for how much worse it could have been.
How there wasn’t a fumble, or some sort of desperate heave returned for a touchdown at the end, is beyond me. It seemed that’s where things were headed. Either way, this play summarized Miami’s general level of synchronicity — or complete and total lack thereof — for most of the first three quarters or so as the Canes fell behind by three touchdowns on two occasions.
Then you had the knockout blow, a spectacular 1-2 combination of a fourth-and-goal stop and a 98-yard touchdown pass that put the game out of reach just as Miami looked like it was getting its act together.
Finally, you had the postgame interview, in which a fired-up Rick Stockstill, Middle Tennessee’s coach and a proud former Florida State quarterback, said, “I know [in] Tallahassee, I know they’re pretty excited about the mighty Blue Raiders kicking the Hurricanes’ tail. ‘Cause we kicked their tail, I ain’t afraid to say it.” — Bill Connelly
SMU honored late fan Paul Layne before Saturday’s rivalry game with TCU, celebrating the life of a devoted supporter who didn’t miss a Mustangs game for 50 years.
Layne was a freshman cheerleader at SMU in 1972, and didn’t miss a single game until this season — making 542 straight Mustangs games, even in the bleak post-NCAA Death Penalty years — and was permitted to watch games in person during the pandemic to keep the streak intact, often taking his place alongside the cardboard cutouts of fans.
Layne missed his first game on Sept. 3, when he was hospitalized with a blood clot. His family and friends wore “I am Paul Layne” shirts in his place in the first two games of the season. Layne died on Sept. 12 at 68.
On Saturday, before first the Mustangs’ first home game since his passing, SMU passed out stickers and pins featuring a megaphone that said “542” with Layne’s name on them in the press box and honored his family during a pregame ceremony.
SMU coach Rhett Lashley said last week that Layne was one of the first people he met when he was hired at SMU in 2018, and that he will be missed.
Paul Layne’s streak of games attended — through the rain and shine, the good and the bad, a pandemic, even — is frankly unfathomable. As @AD_RickHart wrote, “his love and loyalty for [the SMU Mustangs] will never be surpassed.”
“Whether it was [former coach] Sonny [Dykes] or others, there was an outpouring of love and support for his family,” SMU coach Rhett Lashlee said. “He will be missed, but boy, he made an impact on everybody he touched.”
Lashlee marveled at Layne’s dedication.
“It’s incredible. Whether it’s just a normal illness or a canceled flight, there’s all kinds of things that could prevent it. But 542 straight games is remarkable,” Lashlee said. “A very familiar face we’re going to miss.” — Dave Wilson
A wild day in Texas
As the Lone Star State turns, it was a wild day for the state’s Top 25 teams. We’ll start out in Lubbock, first-year Texas Tech coach Joey McGuire landed a win over No. 22 Texas as Red Raiders fans stormed the field after a 37-34 overtime win over Texas in what is likely the Longhorns’ last visit to Lubbock for the foreseeable future with an SEC departure on the horizon.
It was a short honeymoon for the Longhorns, who felt like they were turning the corner after a close loss to Alabama and then a gritty win over UTSA. The Red Raiders are now 3-1 after wins over No. 25 Houston, No. 22 Texas, and a 27-14 loss on the road at No. 16 NC State. McGuire, known for his energy, was animated after the win.
No. 23 Texas A&M grabbed a victory over No. 10 Arkansas, helped in large part by Demani Richardson ripping the ball from a teammate after a fumble recovery and racing 82 yards to kick-start the Aggies, who had sleepwalked through the first quarter without making a first down and having only 28 total yards before scoring 23 consecutive points. Then, they watched Arkansas line up for a potential game-winning field goal with 1:30 left, before it hit the top of the upright and bounced into the air, falling short of the crossbar.
No. 17 Baylor survived a trip to Iowa State, beating the Cyclones 31-24 to end ISU’s streak of 11 straight home wins over Big 12 teams. The Bears’ defense held Iowa State to 2.4 yards per carry and picked off two passes by Hunter Dekker. Even the normally stoic Dave Aranda was amped during this one. — Wilson
When Lamar elected to return to the Southland Conference this past summer, after just one year in the Western Athletic Conference, other WAC teams had to scramble to fill holes in the schedule. There are only so many options available for such a thing, so for Family Weekend in Nacogdoches, Stephen F. Austin arranged to play the NAIA’s Warner University.
Warner isn’t just any NAIA team, however. The Royals rank 89th out of 98 teams in my NAIA SP+ rankings. They had lost to two other NAIA teams by a combined 93-29 and had fallen to Division II power West Florida 52-3 in a game they trailed 45-0 at halftime. This was destined to be a massive blowout.
It was even worse than expected. SFA scored 28 points — two off of long touchdown passes, two off of fumble returns — in the game’s first six minutes, then added 31 more points before halftime. Four different Lumberjack quarterbacks threw touchdown passes, and after a punt return score made it 85-0 with 6:58 left, Warner immediately threw an interception, and SFA made it 92-0 with 6:32 left. And then Warner fumbled the kickoff. And SFA scored again. They kneeled out a 2-point conversion to stop at 98 points, and Warner stopped self-destructing long enough for the clock to run out. SFA fell seven points short of the FCS single-game scoring record (set by Portland State in 1980), but everyone involved seemed OK with that. — Connelly
BOSTON — The Red Sox activated All-Star third baseman Alex Bregman from the 10-day injured list before Friday’s game against Tampa Bay.
Bregman, who has been sidelined since May 24 with a right quad strain, returned to his customary spot in the field and was slotted in the No. 2 spot of Boston’s lineup for the second of a four-game series against the Rays. He sustained the injury when he rounded first base and felt his quad tighten up.
A two-time World Series winner who spent the first nine seasons of his big league career with the Houston Astros, Bregman signed a $120 million, three-year contract in February. At the time of the injury, he was hitting .299 with 11 homers and 35 RBI. Those numbers led to him being named to the American League’s All-Star team for the third time since breaking into the majors with the Astros in 2016.
Bregman missed 43 games with the quad strain. Earlier this week, he told reporters that he was trending in a direction where he didn’t believe he would require a minor league rehab assignment. With three games left before the All-Star break, the Red Sox agreed the time was right to reinstate a player to a team that entered Friday in possession of one of the AL’s three wild-card berths.
“He’s going to do his part,” Red Sox manager Alex Cora said before Friday’s game. “Obviously, the timing, we’ll see where he’s at, but he’s been working hard on the swing … visualizing and watching video.”
JIM ABBOTT IS sitting at his kitchen table, with his old friend Tim Mead. In the late 1980s and early 1990s, they were partners in an extraordinary exercise — and now, for the first time in decades, they are looking at a stack of letters and photographs from that period of their lives.
The letters are mostly handwritten, by children, from all over the United States and Canada, and beyond.
“Dear Mr. Abbott …”
“I have one hand too. … I don’t know any one with one hand. How do you feel about having one hand? Sometimes I feel sad and sometimes I feel okay about it. Most of the time I feel happy.”
“I am a seventh grader with a leg that is turned inwards. How do you feel about your arm? I would also like to know how you handle your problem? I would like to know, if you don’t mind, what have you been called?”
“I can’t use my right hand and most of my right side is paralyzed. … I want to become a doctor and seeing you makes me think I can be what I want to be.”
For 40 years, Mead worked in communications for the California Angels, eventually becoming vice president of media relations. His position in this department became a job like no other after the Angels drafted Abbott out of the University of Michigan in 1988.
There was a deluge of media requests. Reporters from around the world descended on Anaheim, most hoping to get one-on-one time with the young left-handed pitcher with the scorching fastball. Every Abbott start was a major event — “like the World Series,” Angels scout Bob Fontaine Jr. remembers. Abbott, with his impressive amateur résumé (he won the James E. Sullivan Award for the nation’s best amateur athlete in 1997 and an Olympic gold medal in 1988) and his boyish good looks, had star power.
That spring, he had become only the 16th player to go straight from the draft to the majors without appearing in a single minor league game. And then there was the factor that made him unique. His limb difference, although no one called it that back then. Abbott was born without a right hand, yet had developed into one of the most promising pitchers of his generation. He would go on to play in the majors for ten years, including a stint in the mid ’90s with the Yankees highlighted by a no-hitter in 1993.
Abbott, and Mead, too, knew the media would swarm. That was no surprise. There had been swarms in college, and at the Olympics, wherever and whenever Abbott pitched. Who could resist such an inspirational story? But what they hadn’t anticipated were the letters.
The steady stream of letters. Thousands of letters. So many from kids who, like Abbott, were different. Letters from their parents and grandparents. The kids hoping to connect with someone who reminded them of themselves, the first celebrity they knew of who could understand and appreciate what it was like to be them, someone who had experienced the bullying and the feelings of otherness. The parents and grandparents searching for hope and direction.
“I know you don’t consider yourself limited in what you can do … but you are still an inspiration to my wife and I as parents. Your success helps us when talking to Andy at those times when he’s a little frustrated. I’m able to point to you and assure him there’s no limit to what he can accomplish.”
In his six seasons with the Angels, Abbott was assisted by Mead in the process of organizing his responses to the letters, mailing them, and arranging face-to-face meetings with the families who had written to him. There were scores of such meetings. It was practically a full-time job for both of them.
“Thinking back on these meetings with families — and that’s the way I’d put it, it’s families, not just kids — there was every challenge imaginable,” Abbott, now 57, says. “Some accidents. Some birth defects. Some mental challenges that aren’t always visible to people when you first come across somebody. … They saw something in playing baseball with one hand that related to their own experience. I think the families coming to the ballparks were looking for hopefulness. I think they were looking for what it had been that my parents had told me, what it had been that my coaches had told me. … [With the kids] it was an interaction. It was catch. It was smiling. It was an autograph. It was a picture. With the parents, it ran deeper. With the parents, it was what had your parents said to you? What coaches made a difference? What can we expect? Most of all, I think, what can we expect?”
“It wasn’t asking for autographs,” Mead says of all those letters. “They weren’t asking for pictures. They were asking for his time. He and I had to have a conversation because this was going to be unique. You know, you could set up another player to come down and sign 15 autographs for this group or whatever. But it was people, parents, that had kids, maybe babies, just newborn babies, almost looking for an assurance that this is going to turn out all right, you know. ‘What did your parents do? How did your parents handle this?'”
One of the letters Abbott received came from an 8-year-old girl in Windsor, Ontario.
She wrote, “Dear Jim, My name is Tracey Holgate. I am age 8. I have one hand too. My grandpa gave me a picture of you today. I saw you on TV. I don’t know anyone with one hand. How do you feel about having one hand? Sometimes I feel sad and sometimes I feel okay about it. Most of the time I feel happy. I hope to see you play in Detroit and maybe meet you. Could you please send me a picture of you in uniform? Could you write back please? Here is a picture of me. Love, Tracey.”
Holgate’s letter is one of those that has remained preserved in a folder — and now Abbott is reading it again, at his kitchen table, half a lifetime after receiving it. Time has not diminished the power of the letter, and Abbott is wiping away tears.
Today, Holgate is 44 and goes by her married name, Dupuis. She is married with four children of her own. She is a teacher. When she thinks about the meaning of Jim Abbott in her life, it is about much more than the letter he wrote back to her. Or the autographed picture he sent her. It was Abbott, all those years ago, who made it possible for Tracey to dream.
“There was such a camaraderie there,” she says, “an ability to connect with somebody so far away doing something totally different than my 8-year-old self was doing, but he really allowed me to just feel that connection, to feel that I’m not alone, there’s other people that have differences and have overcome them and been successful and we all have our own crosses, we all have our own things that we’re carrying and it’s important to continue to focus on the gifts that we have, the beauty of it.
“I think sometimes differences, disabilities, all those things can be a gift in a package we would never have wanted, because they allow us to be people that have an empathetic heart, an understanding heart, and to see the pain in the people around us.”
Now, years after Abbott’s career ended, he continues to inspire.
Among those he influenced, there are professional athletes, such as Shaquem Griffin, who in 2018 became the first NFL player with one hand. Griffin, now 29, played three seasons at linebacker for the Seattle Seahawks.
Growing up in Florida, he would watch videos of Abbott pitching and fielding, over and over, on YouTube.
“The only person I really looked up to was Jim Abbott at the time,” Griffin says, “which is crazy, because I didn’t know anybody else to look up to. I didn’t know anybody else who was kind of like me. And it’s funny, because when I was really little, I used to be like, ‘Why me? Why this happen to me?’ And I used to be in my room thinking about that. And I used to think to myself, ‘I wonder if Jim Abbott had that same thought.'”
Carson Pickett was born on Sept. 15, 1993 — 11 days after Abbott’s no-hitter. Missing most of her left arm below the elbow, she became, in 2022, the first player with a limb difference to appear for the U.S. women’s national soccer team.
She, too, says that Abbott made things that others told her were impossible seem attainable.
“I knew I wanted to be a professional soccer player,” says Pickett, who is currently playing for the NWSL’s Orlando Pride. “To be able to see him compete at the highest level it gave me hope, and I think that that kind of helped me throughout my journey. … I think ‘pioneer’ would be the best word for him.”
Longtime professional MMA fighter Nick Newell is 39, old enough to have seen Abbott pitch for the Yankees. In fact, when Newell was a child he met Abbott twice, first at a fan event at the Jacob Javits Center in Manhattan and then on a game day at Yankee Stadium. Newell was one of those kids with a limb difference — like Griffin and Pickett, due to amniotic band syndrome — who idolized Abbott.
“And I didn’t really understand the gravity of what he was doing,” Newell says now, “but for me, I saw someone out there on TV that looked like I did. And I was the only other person I knew that had one hand. And I saw this guy out here playing baseball and it was good to see somebody that looked like me, and I saw him in front of the world.
“He was out there like me and he was just living his life and I think that I owe a lot of my attitude and the success that I have to Jim just going out there and being the example of, ‘Hey, you can do this. Who’s to say you can’t be a professional athlete?’ He’s out there throwing no-hitters against the best baseball players in the world. So, as I got older, ‘Why can’t I wrestle? Why can’t I fight? Why can’t I do this?’ And then it wasn’t until the internet that I heard people tell me I can’t do these things. But by then I had already been doing those things.”
Griffin.
Pickett.
Newell.
Just three of the countless kids who were inspired by Jim Abbott.
When asked if it ever felt like too much, being a role model and a hero, all the letters and face-to-face meetings, Abbott says no — but it wasn’t always easy.
“I had incredible people who helped me send the letters,” he says. “I got a lot more credit sometimes than I deserved for these interactions, to be honest with you. And that happened on every team, particularly with my friend Tim Mead. There was a nice balance to it. There really was. There was a heaviness to it. There’s no denying. There were times I didn’t want to go [to the meetings]. I didn’t want to walk out there. I didn’t want to separate from my teammates. I didn’t want to get up from the card game. I didn’t want to put my book down. I liked where I was at. I was in my environment. I was where I always wanted to be. In a big league clubhouse surrounded by big league teammates. In a big league stadium. And those reminders of being different, I slowly came to realize were never going to go away.”
But being different was the thing that made Abbott more than merely a baseball star. For many people, he has been more than a role model, more than an idol. He is the embodiment of hope and belonging.
“I think more people need to realize and understand the gift of a difference,” Dupuis says. “I think we have to just not box everybody in and allow everybody’s innate light to shine, and for whatever reasons we’ve been created to be here, [let] that light shine in a way that it touches everybody else. Because I think that’s what Jim did. He allowed his light to permeate and that light, in turn, lit all these little children’s lights all over the world, so you have this boom of brightness that’s happening and that’s uncontrollable, that’s beautiful.”
NEW YORK — Chicago Cubs center fielder Pete Crow-Armstrong is projected to receive the largest amount from this season’s $50 million pre-arbitration bonus pool based on his regular-season statistics.
Crow-Armstrong is on track to get $1,091,102, according to WAR calculations through July 8 that Major League Baseball sent to teams, players and agents in a memo Friday that was obtained by The Associated Press.
He earned $342,128 from the pool in 2024.
“I was aware of it after last year, but I have no clue of the numbers,” he said Friday. “I haven’t looked at it one time.”
Crow-Armstrong, Skenes, Wood, Carroll, Brown, De La Cruz and Greene have been picked for Tuesday’s All-Star Game.
A total of 100 players will receive the payments, established as part of the 2022 collective bargaining agreement and aimed to get more money to players without sufficient service time for salary arbitration eligibility. The cutoff for 2025 was 2 years, 132 days of major league service.
Players who signed as foreign professionals are excluded.
Most young players have salaries just above this year’s major league minimum of $760,000. Crow-Armstrong has a $771,000 salary this year, Skenes $875,000, Wood $764,400 and Brown $807,400.
Carroll is in the third season of a $111 million, eight-year contract.
As part of the labor agreement, a management-union committee was established that determined the WAR formula used to allocate the bonuses after awards. (A player may receive only one award bonus per year, the highest one he is eligible for.) The agreement calls for an interim report to be distributed the week before the All-Star Game.
Distribution for awards was $9.85 million last year, down from $11.25 million in 2022 and $9.25 million in 2023.
A player earns $2.5 million for winning an MVP or Cy Young award, $1.75 million for finishing second, $1.5 million for third, $1 million for fourth or fifth or for making the All-MLB first team. A player can get $750,000 for winning Rookie of the Year, $500,000 for second or for making the All-MLB second team, $350,000 for third in the rookie race, $250,000 for fourth or $150,000 for fifth.
Kansas City shortstop Bobby Witt Jr. topped last year’s pre-arbitration bonus pool at $3,077,595, and Skenes was second at $2,152,057 despite not making his big league debut until May 11. Baltimore shortstop Gunnar Henderson was third at $2,007,178.