Connect with us

Sports

Miami shocks Ohio State on New Year’s Eve as CFP history is rewritten and a giant finally falls

From a pick-six that changed everything to a ruthless power run finish, the Hurricanes deliver the biggest upset the College Football Playoff has ever seen… and leave Ohio State searching for answers.

Published

on

Miami Hurricanes celebrate after stunning Ohio State 24–14 in the Cotton Bowl, the biggest upset in College Football Playoff history.
Miami Hurricanes celebrate after stunning Ohio State 24–14 in the Cotton Bowl, the biggest upset in College Football Playoff history.

College football has a long memory, and on New Year’s Eve, it came full circle.

More than two decades after Miami Hurricanes were on the wrong side of one of the most painful upsets in the old BCS era, the program authored a moment that will live forever in the modern playoff age. As fireworks cracked the Dallas sky, the No. 10 Hurricanes stunned No. 2 Ohio State Buckeyes 24–14 in the Cotton Bowl, delivering the largest upset in College Football Playoff history.

Miami entered as a 9.5-point underdog. They left as history-makers.

Before Wednesday night, the benchmark for CFP shockwaves was Ohio State’s own win over Alabama as a 7.5-point underdog back in 2015. This one went further. It was louder. And for the Buckeyes, it hurt more — because it came with everything on the line.

A first half Ohio State won’t forget

The warning signs were there early. Miami struck first, setting a physical tone that felt uncomfortable for a Buckeyes team accustomed to dictating games. But the defining moment came just as Ohio State appeared ready to steady itself.

Miami Hurricanes celebrate after stunning Ohio State 24–14 in the Cotton Bowl, the biggest upset in College Football Playoff history.


With the Buckeyes driving and momentum beginning to shift, defensive back Keionte Scott jumped a pass and sprinted untouched for a pick-six. Instead of a tie game, Miami went into halftime with a stunning 14–0 lead — and Ohio State staring at a mountain they never quite climbed.

It was the kind of play that flips a postseason narrative instantly. One second, the favorite is breathing again. The next, the underdog owns the night.

Miami closes it the old-school way

Ohio State did show life after the break. The offense finally found rhythm, trimming the margin and forcing Miami to answer. And answer they did — not with flash, but with force.

Behind a relentless power run game, Miami leaned on Mark Fletcher and CharMar Brown, pounding the Buckeyes late when everyone in the stadium knew what was coming. Six straight plays. Five runs. One defense slowly breaking.

A short screen to CJ Daniels pushed the Hurricanes inside the Ohio State 10-yard line with under two minutes remaining. With the Buckeyes down to a single timeout, Miami held the script.

Ohio State, desperate for clock, appeared to allow Brown to score with 55 seconds left. The touchdown made it a 10-point game — but the gamble backfired immediately. On the ensuing possession, quarterback Julian Sayin threw an interception with 43 seconds remaining, sealing the upset and sending the Hurricanes into celebration mode.

The bye curse lives on

If there’s a cruel twist to the modern CFP, Ohio State just reinforced it. Teams with first-round byes in the expanded 12-team playoff are now 0–5. A year ago, all four bye teams lost. This season, the Buckeyes became the biggest favorite yet to fall.

The irony runs deep. The last time a favorite this large lost a postseason game was January 2003 — when Miami entered as an 11.5-point favorite against Ohio State in the BCS title game. That night, the Buckeyes won 31–24 in double overtime.

Wednesday night, history flipped jerseys.

What’s next for Miami — and a familiar storyline

Less than a month after sneaking into the playoff field ahead of Notre Dame in the final rankings, Miami now awaits the winner of Georgia Bulldogs vs Ole Miss Rebels in the Sugar Bowl, with a semifinal date set at the Fiesta Bowl on January 8.

There’s a delicious subplot, too. Miami quarterback Carson Beck transferred from Georgia after suffering an elbow injury late in the 2024 season. A showdown against his former team? It’s now very much on the table.

Miami Hurricanes celebrate after stunning Ohio State 24–14 in the Cotton Bowl, the biggest upset in College Football Playoff history.


Ohio State’s familiar questions return

For Ohio State, the loss guarantees one thing: there will be a new national champion this season. The Buckeyes had been favorites to join Georgia and Alabama as repeat champions of the 2000s. Instead, their season ended with old concerns resurfacing.

Head coach Ryan Day took back play-calling duties for the playoff after offensive coordinator Brian Hartline departed to become head coach at South Florida. The results were troubling.

Seventeen points across the last 120 minutes of football with Day calling plays is not the standard Ohio State fans expect. Even before this loss, the Buckeyes managed just 10 points in the Big Ten title game. Whether it was offensive line injuries, schematic edges uncovered by Miami and Indiana, or timing at the worst possible moment, Ohio State’s offense sputtered when it mattered most.

And in a playoff built to reward depth, adaptability, and nerve, that hesitation proved fatal.

A night that changed the CFP conversation

Miami didn’t just win a game. They reshaped how we talk about playoff favorites, first-round byes, and the thin line between dominance and disaster.

On a night meant for countdowns and resolutions, the Hurricanes delivered a reminder college football never gets old: no spread is safe, no crown is permanent, and sometimes, the loudest statements come from the teams nobody expected to still be standing.

Sports

Caleb Williams Impresses, but the Bears’ Late-Game Decisions Raise Eyebrows

One impossible touchdown changed everything — but Chicago’s season may have been decided by what happened next

Published

on

By

Caleb Williams’ miracle touchdown gave the Bears hope — and a decision that will be debated for years

For one breathtaking moment, football stopped making sense.

With seconds left in a divisional-round playoff game, Caleb Williams launched a prayer — a 50-plus-yard, off-balance, back-foot moon shot — and somehow, impossibly, it found Cole Kmet in the end zone. It was the kind of touchdown that instantly joins NFL folklore, the sort of play fans remember for decades.

Suddenly, the Chicago Bears were one extra point away from tying the Los Angeles Rams — a scenario no one could have imagined just moments earlier.

And that’s when the question arrived, loud and unavoidable:

Why not go for two?

The dream-big argument

If Chicago converts the two-point try, the Rams are done. Season over. The Bears move one game away from the Super Bowl, potentially facing either a second-year quarterback or an injury replacement in the AFC. No matchup in the NFL is easy, but this was a window — and those windows don’t stay open long.

Ask Aaron Rodgers or Dan Marino how rare Super Bowl chances truly are. Between them, 38 seasons, one Super Bowl appearance each. Even greatness doesn’t guarantee multiple shots.

Momentum, belief, shock value — everything screamed end it now. One play. One decision. Push all the chips to the middle.

But football decisions aren’t made in the clouds. They’re made in film rooms.

Caleb Williams’ miracle touchdown gave the Bears hope — and a decision that will be debated for years


Why Chicago didn’t gamble

Offensive coordinator Ben Johnson didn’t flinch. Replays showed him calm, unmoved, almost indifferent to the miracle unfolding. He knew the touchdown created options — but also responsibility.

Because miracles don’t stack.

Just minutes earlier, Chicago had first-and-goal at the Rams’ 5-yard line. Three ineffective runs by De’Andre Swift and a failed fourth-down pass told Johnson everything he needed to know about his short-yardage confidence.

After the game, Johnson explained it plainly.

“Our goal-to-go situations hadn’t gone very cleanly,” he said. “Our inside-the-5 plan hadn’t worked out like we hoped. I just felt better about taking our chances in overtime.”

There was also time left — 13 seconds and two Rams timeouts. One explosive play, maybe a penalty, and Los Angeles could still have stolen it with a field goal even after a failed conversion.

So Chicago chose survival over glory.

How it unraveled anyway

The Bears lived to fight in overtime — and then watched their season collapse anyway. A brutal interception. A defensive breakdown. Game over.

And just like that, Williams-to-Kmet joined a heartbreaking fraternity: iconic plays that didn’t change the ending. Think Kurt Warner to Larry Fitzgerald in Super Bowl XLIII. Think Julio Jones and that impossible toe-tap in Super Bowl LI.

Legendary moments — frozen in time — attached to losses.

So… was it the wrong call?

Emotionally? Maybe.

Strategically? Probably not.

Coaches don’t get paid to chase vibes. They get paid to trust evidence. And Chicago’s evidence said a single, all-or-nothing snap wasn’t the best bet.

That doesn’t make it satisfying. It just makes it honest.

Caleb Williams’ miracle touchdown gave the Bears hope — and a decision that will be debated for years


What this moment really means for Chicago

The Bears don’t leave this game empty-handed. They leave with something rarer than a win: belief.

You can’t build a franchise on miracle throws — but you can build a culture on refusing to quit. This team fought until the very last second, and that matters more than fans often admit.

Williams will be just 24 entering the 2026 season. Think about what he might look like at 27, 28, 29. There are no guarantees — Rodgers and Marino taught us that — but this is as good a foundation as any team could ask for.

Years from now, if Chicago is lucky, Williams-to-Kmet won’t be remembered as a cruel “what if.”

It will be remembered as the beginning.

Continue Reading

Sports

A Strong Night for Caleb Williams Ends With Doubts About the Bears’ Late Decisions

One impossible touchdown changed everything — but Chicago’s season may have been decided by what happened next

Published

on

By

Caleb Williams’ miracle touchdown gave the Bears hope — and a decision that will be debated for years

For one breathtaking moment, football stopped making sense.

With seconds left in a divisional-round playoff game, Caleb Williams launched a prayer — a 50-plus-yard, off-balance, back-foot moon shot — and somehow, impossibly, it found Cole Kmet in the end zone. It was the kind of touchdown that instantly joins NFL folklore, the sort of play fans remember for decades.

Suddenly, the Chicago Bears were one extra point away from tying the Los Angeles Rams — a scenario no one could have imagined just moments earlier.

And that’s when the question arrived, loud and unavoidable:

Why not go for two?

The dream-big argument

If Chicago converts the two-point try, the Rams are done. Season over. The Bears move one game away from the Super Bowl, potentially facing either a second-year quarterback or an injury replacement in the AFC. No matchup in the NFL is easy, but this was a window — and those windows don’t stay open long.

Ask Aaron Rodgers or Dan Marino how rare Super Bowl chances truly are. Between them, 38 seasons, one Super Bowl appearance each. Even greatness doesn’t guarantee multiple shots.

Momentum, belief, shock value — everything screamed end it now. One play. One decision. Push all the chips to the middle.

But football decisions aren’t made in the clouds. They’re made in film rooms.

Caleb Williams’ miracle touchdown gave the Bears hope — and a decision that will be debated for years


Why Chicago didn’t gamble

Offensive coordinator Ben Johnson didn’t flinch. Replays showed him calm, unmoved, almost indifferent to the miracle unfolding. He knew the touchdown created options — but also responsibility.

Because miracles don’t stack.

Just minutes earlier, Chicago had first-and-goal at the Rams’ 5-yard line. Three ineffective runs by De’Andre Swift and a failed fourth-down pass told Johnson everything he needed to know about his short-yardage confidence.

After the game, Johnson explained it plainly.

“Our goal-to-go situations hadn’t gone very cleanly,” he said. “Our inside-the-5 plan hadn’t worked out like we hoped. I just felt better about taking our chances in overtime.”

There was also time left — 13 seconds and two Rams timeouts. One explosive play, maybe a penalty, and Los Angeles could still have stolen it with a field goal even after a failed conversion.

So Chicago chose survival over glory.

How it unraveled anyway

The Bears lived to fight in overtime — and then watched their season collapse anyway. A brutal interception. A defensive breakdown. Game over.

And just like that, Williams-to-Kmet joined a heartbreaking fraternity: iconic plays that didn’t change the ending. Think Kurt Warner to Larry Fitzgerald in Super Bowl XLIII. Think Julio Jones and that impossible toe-tap in Super Bowl LI.

Legendary moments — frozen in time — attached to losses.

So… was it the wrong call?

Emotionally? Maybe.

Strategically? Probably not.

Coaches don’t get paid to chase vibes. They get paid to trust evidence. And Chicago’s evidence said a single, all-or-nothing snap wasn’t the best bet.

That doesn’t make it satisfying. It just makes it honest.

Caleb Williams’ miracle touchdown gave the Bears hope — and a decision that will be debated for years


What this moment really means for Chicago

The Bears don’t leave this game empty-handed. They leave with something rarer than a win: belief.

You can’t build a franchise on miracle throws — but you can build a culture on refusing to quit. This team fought until the very last second, and that matters more than fans often admit.

Williams will be just 24 entering the 2026 season. Think about what he might look like at 27, 28, 29. There are no guarantees — Rodgers and Marino taught us that — but this is as good a foundation as any team could ask for.

Years from now, if Chicago is lucky, Williams-to-Kmet won’t be remembered as a cruel “what if.”

It will be remembered as the beginning.

Continue Reading

Sports

Caleb Williams Did His Part But Did the Bears Overthink the Finish

One impossible touchdown changed everything — but Chicago’s season may have been decided by what happened next

Published

on

By

Caleb Williams’ miracle touchdown gave the Bears hope — and a decision that will be debated for years

For one breathtaking moment, football stopped making sense.

With seconds left in a divisional-round playoff game, Caleb Williams launched a prayer — a 50-plus-yard, off-balance, back-foot moon shot — and somehow, impossibly, it found Cole Kmet in the end zone. It was the kind of touchdown that instantly joins NFL folklore, the sort of play fans remember for decades.

Suddenly, the Chicago Bears were one extra point away from tying the Los Angeles Rams — a scenario no one could have imagined just moments earlier.

And that’s when the question arrived, loud and unavoidable:

Why not go for two?

The dream-big argument

If Chicago converts the two-point try, the Rams are done. Season over. The Bears move one game away from the Super Bowl, potentially facing either a second-year quarterback or an injury replacement in the AFC. No matchup in the NFL is easy, but this was a window — and those windows don’t stay open long.

Ask Aaron Rodgers or Dan Marino how rare Super Bowl chances truly are. Between them, 38 seasons, one Super Bowl appearance each. Even greatness doesn’t guarantee multiple shots.

Momentum, belief, shock value — everything screamed end it now. One play. One decision. Push all the chips to the middle.

But football decisions aren’t made in the clouds. They’re made in film rooms.

Caleb Williams’ miracle touchdown gave the Bears hope — and a decision that will be debated for years


Why Chicago didn’t gamble

Offensive coordinator Ben Johnson didn’t flinch. Replays showed him calm, unmoved, almost indifferent to the miracle unfolding. He knew the touchdown created options — but also responsibility.

Because miracles don’t stack.

Just minutes earlier, Chicago had first-and-goal at the Rams’ 5-yard line. Three ineffective runs by De’Andre Swift and a failed fourth-down pass told Johnson everything he needed to know about his short-yardage confidence.

After the game, Johnson explained it plainly.

“Our goal-to-go situations hadn’t gone very cleanly,” he said. “Our inside-the-5 plan hadn’t worked out like we hoped. I just felt better about taking our chances in overtime.”

There was also time left — 13 seconds and two Rams timeouts. One explosive play, maybe a penalty, and Los Angeles could still have stolen it with a field goal even after a failed conversion.

So Chicago chose survival over glory.

How it unraveled anyway

The Bears lived to fight in overtime — and then watched their season collapse anyway. A brutal interception. A defensive breakdown. Game over.

And just like that, Williams-to-Kmet joined a heartbreaking fraternity: iconic plays that didn’t change the ending. Think Kurt Warner to Larry Fitzgerald in Super Bowl XLIII. Think Julio Jones and that impossible toe-tap in Super Bowl LI.

Legendary moments — frozen in time — attached to losses.

So… was it the wrong call?

Emotionally? Maybe.

Strategically? Probably not.

Coaches don’t get paid to chase vibes. They get paid to trust evidence. And Chicago’s evidence said a single, all-or-nothing snap wasn’t the best bet.

That doesn’t make it satisfying. It just makes it honest.

Caleb Williams’ miracle touchdown gave the Bears hope — and a decision that will be debated for years


What this moment really means for Chicago

The Bears don’t leave this game empty-handed. They leave with something rarer than a win: belief.

You can’t build a franchise on miracle throws — but you can build a culture on refusing to quit. This team fought until the very last second, and that matters more than fans often admit.

Williams will be just 24 entering the 2026 season. Think about what he might look like at 27, 28, 29. There are no guarantees — Rodgers and Marino taught us that — but this is as good a foundation as any team could ask for.

Years from now, if Chicago is lucky, Williams-to-Kmet won’t be remembered as a cruel “what if.”

It will be remembered as the beginning.

Continue Reading
Advertisement

Trending